My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 731: First Rift
Previously on My Talent's Name Is Generator...
I shut my eyes, allowing the abyss core to complete its task.
The final strands of laws got drawn inside, dismantled, purified, and integrated into the core framework of my Dawn Core. That fierce craving subsided, giving way to a profound, stable attraction, akin to a tide calming down after raging through a tempest.
Then, the Dawn Core transformed.
It wasn't abrupt. It felt destined.
Inside me, the void's inner realm awakened. Floating islands that had hovered in quiet equilibrium started to realign. Flows of essence reversed their course. The constant distant vibration grew more intense, turning denser and more anchored.
A fresh island emerged.
Substance materialized from emptiness, drawn by a rule that hadn't been part of my domain just moments earlier. The island expanded gradually at the start, then steadied, its terrain sleek and shadowy, marked by subtle lines that shimmered with silver light.
In its heart, the earth split open.
A volcano erupted upward.
No flames or molten rock burst from it. Instead, it harbored sealing power.
Silver radiance burst from the summit, sharp and exact, crafting rune-shaped designs that spun slowly overhead. Each throb from that volcano conveyed a feeling of conclusion. Finality. Division. The Law of Sealing had now embedded itself.
I grasped it on an intuitive level. Sufficiently to realize it belonged to me.
The Dawn Core reacted in kind around it.
The space volcano, already immense, swelled even more. Its island extended farther, borders honing to precision, the fabric of space curving with greater clarity nearby. Routes that had seemed jagged before now flowed seamlessly, responsive.
The elemental volcano reacted afterward. Its brilliance heightened, hues intensified, strata building upon strata. Flames, frost, thunder, waves, and powers defying easy labels swirled in enhanced unity.
Three shifts. One fresh law. Two bolstered bases.
I opened my eyes.
Beneath me, the battlefield looked utterly transformed.
Not a single phantom lingered.
No generals. No commanders. No structured opposition.
Just abominations scattered over the three levels, and they faced relentless pursuit.
The demons surged like freed predators. Fury suppressed for years at last broke loose. Whole units ripped into the survivors, swords gleaming, laws blazing, forms torn asunder without pity.
My summons matched their ferocity.
Ragnar barreled through groups of abominations with savage precision, chuckling while pulverizing them to dust. Aurora danced like embodied tempest, bolts of lightning striking repeatedly, obliterating any that attempted escape. Silver soared over the field, wings flapping as he ferried hordes of demons ahead, releasing them right into the densest clashes.
Knight slipped through invisibly, shadows darting as foes toppled inexplicably.
This wasn't combat any longer.
It was extermination.
I summoned my status panel to review it.
[Status]
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Name : Billion Ironhart
Race : Executor(Human)
Class : Primordial Executor – Transcendent (Mythic)
Laws:
- Level 3 : Major Law of Time, Major Law of Space
- Level 2 : Major Law of Elemental Convergence, Major Law of Devour, Major Law of Stormfire, Major Law of Froststorm, Major Law of Assimilation, Major Law of Polarity, Major Law of Resonance
- Level 1 : Major Law of Sealing
- Level 5 : Minor Law of Blood
Domain: Veritas Dominus
Awakened Weapon: Executor’s Staff
Rank: Transcendent
Level : 417
Talent :
- Generator Prime 3
- Essence : 100/1000
- Soul Shackle : 6
Attributes :
- Strength: Omega (7610)
- Constitution: Omega (7550)
- Dexterity: Omega (7800)
- Psynapse : Omega + (8600)
- Essence : ∞
Skills :
- Essence Engine (Innate) (Max)
- Psynapse Fracture (Max)(6)
- Fractured Unity Level 9
- Chrono-Severance Step Level 3
- Sovereign Reversal Level 9
- Essence Rebellion Level 2
- Hand of Convergence Level 3
- Sanctum of Judgement Level 10(Max)
- Runic Ascent Level 5(Max)
- Singularity Beam (Weapon Skill)
- Executor’s Halo (Passive)
- Equivalence Clause (Passive)
Abilities:
- Apex Body – Transcendent (Passive)
- Trait Acquisition
Rights:
- Right to Insight
- Right to Isolate
- Right to Anchor
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My Psynapse had advanced into a novel Omega + tier. And the other values neared it closely.
For almost two hours, the slaughter persisted. Not out of dire need, but because halting felt impossible. Each wail, each mangled corpse, each spill of dark ichor served as recompense for endless years of suffering.
At last, the pace ebbed.
The void hushed.
Weapons descended one after another. Auras softened. Breaths came labored.
Then came the moment.
A demon sank to his knees.
Followed by another.
Then scores more.
Some gazed into the emptiness, trembling. Others shielded their eyes. A handful emitted fractured noises scarcely resembling sobs.
The war raged on elsewhere. But in this rift, it concluded.
I sensed it sweep through the ranks, that delicate, brittle instant when fury exhausted its outlets and sorrow flooded the void.
My gaze located Saleos.
He hovered isolated, distanced from the group, form motionless, stance unyielding. His armor bore char and fractures, palms slick with viscous black gore that trickled lazily into the abyss.
He fixed his stare on them.
For an extended while, he remained still.
Then he shut his eyes.
In a measured, intentional gesture, he ripped the front of his attire. The cloth tore free, floating adrift, revealing the wounds, gashes, and sears underneath. He permitted the fragments to vanish into oblivion, like discarding a burden endured for ages.
He raised no yell.
He shed no tears.
Yet the quiver in his shoulders revealed all.
Nearby, Mazikeen at last gave way.
Her knees struck the nothingness, and she curled in on herself, palms clamped over her features as unrestrained wails escaped her. She made no effort to conceal them. No dignity remained to guard.
Steve lingered at her side.
He offered no words. He merely placed a hand upon her shoulder and remained.
Demons clustered around in quiet.
Some held one another close. Some chuckled faintly amid weeping. Some merely gaped, disbelieving their survival.
I lingered overhead amid it, the gravity of the scene embedding within me.
This rift had festered as an open gash.
Now it stood as a healed mark.
I regarded the fractured strata below, the floating wreckage and myriad ruined forms gradually dissolving into the void.
This marked but one rift. One field of strife.
Innumerable more dotted the Prime Universe.
My fist tightened.