My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 798 Broken Mural

I kept advancing through the hall's vast expanse, the soft echoes of my footsteps resounding under the lofty columns while murals revealed themselves in sequence along the walls. Every artwork portrayed a distinct entity positioned before the blade, their shapes rendered with meticulous precision, their essence captured eternally at the instant of facing off.

Soon, I arrived at the ultimate mural.

My pace began to slacken.

This particular one stood apart.

It illustrated a figure possessing wings.

Dark wings.

They stretched out broadly from his back, immense and undeniable, matching precisely the wings from the earlier vision. He positioned himself atop the mountain's summit, confronting the lodged sword. His stance showed no doubt, no awe, no yielding. He merely existed there, as if the sword and he shared the same plane of being.

A fissure sliced diagonally through the mural.

It started from the top edge and descended sharply, dividing both the winged form and the blade overhead. The break was aged, its borders eroded by years, yet it wasn't an element of the initial engraving.

I drew nearer.

As soon as I crossed before it, the fissure widened.

A subtle noise reverberated across the hall.

Stone grated.

Fine dust trickled in streams from the split, floating down through the atmosphere before landing on the ground.

The mural responded to my approach.

A gentle vibration pulsed underfoot.

Next, the floor in front quaked.

I halted.

A round portion of the floor right before the mural started to descend, its borders detaching smoothly from the adjacent framework. Time-forgotten devices, dormant for countless ages, sprang to life effortlessly. The rocky slab lowered gradually, uncovering a concealed staircase below.

Obscurity loomed in the depths. Something shifted inside. Before I could probe deeper with my senses, darkness welled up from the gap. It gathered swiftly, solidifying as it ascended, molding into a human-like shape that mounted the stairwell's rim. Unlike earlier shadows, this one bore no staff.

It gripped a sword.

The armament was flawlessly crafted, its blade keen and even, its framework bolstered by thick inner Essence production. The shadow wasted no time. It lunged.

Its sword swung.

A sword aura burst forth from the motion.

The cut bridged the gap between us in a flash, its velocity surpassing all forecasts and demanding an urgent dodge. My frame reacted instinctively, space warping under my command as I darted aside, just evading the strike that ripped through the spot I'd occupied moments before.

The cut pressed on.

It surged beyond me and gouged the far wall, cleaving aged rock like it was nothing.

A fresh cut was incoming.

The shadow's sword flowed once more, its action seamless and unrelenting, unleashing another sword slash that adapted to my relocated spot as if foreseeing my dodge.

Time waves emanated from my core. The approaching cut decelerated. Its blade warped under the press of temporal drag, granting me the slim opening to relocate further. I surged ahead and laterally, slipping past its course as it flew by.

The shadow showed no delay.

Its sword struck for the third time.

Yet another slash took shape.

Nearer.

Swifter.

This strike I confronted head-on.

My fist thrust out.

Power detonated from the blow, the blast wave shredding the oncoming sword aura and demolishing it utterly. The unleashed energy barreled onward undiminished, heading straight for the shadow.

It connected.

The shadow's frame cleaved neatly in half, sundered by the shockwave. For an instant, it lingered upright. Then its shape unraveled.

I squinted.

That felt far too simple.

The aura faded entirely. My Psynapse unfurled at once, probing the nearby area.

Empty.

Then—

Agony.

A blade stabbed from behind. I sensed the point penetrate, slice through tissue, through skeleton, and protrude from my front. My form locked up.

I glanced downward gradually. The end of a shadow-wrought sword jutted from my body, shadowy Essence coursing over its length.

The shadow loomed at my rear. Its aura dominated.

Its velocity—

Far beyond what I'd anticipated.

I let out a quiet laugh.

My frame scattered in a blink, fragmenting into myriad lightning motes as I invoked Absolute Elemental Shift. My solid body vanished from its usual state, dissolving into raw elemental flow. The motes burst along the easiest route, streaming right through the shadow's sword and into its core before it could pull back the weapon.

Then they united.

BOOM!

The blast ripped across the hall, the blast's might hurling the shadow's frame rearward. It smashed hard into a huge column, the collision fracturing the old pillar and showering stone shards all around.

My shape reformed nearby, lightning coalescing back to solidity. The gash in my chest was gone. Essence circulated freely through mended pathways, mending the harm fully as if the impalement never happened.

Yet my attention wasn't on my healing.

It fixed on the shadow.

Or more precisely—

On its feat.

Its quickness wasn't typical motion. It hadn't traversed space like my flashes. It hadn't warped time via Chronostep. No intermediate warp. No traceable change.

It just materialized at my back.

And impaled me.

The shadow's frame, pinned to the pillar, started to break down, its makeup melting into swirling gloom. It vanished quickly, disintegrating into void until nothing lingered.

My Psynapse spread wide right away, scouring the whole hall, examining each stratum of space, each variation, each potential oddity.

Void.

No Essence stir.

No space warp.

No time undulation.

No aura.

And still—

My threat sense ignited.

All senses blared together. I didn't waver. My frame scattered anew, reverting to lightning before thought could catch up. In the following moment, a sword sliced through the precise spot my throat had filled.

The edge sliced empty space, its path smooth and hushed, its direction unyielding. Lightning motes dispersed around its line as my scattered state narrowly escaped total ruin.

I reshaped a few meters off, my gaze sharpening. The shadow was present once more. Its sword protruded from the finished swing.

It hadn't risen.

It hadn't shaped.

It simply was.

My senses clamped onto it fully, dissecting every facet of its being. And just one explanation fit.

It wasn't traversing space. It was navigating sequence. It didn't journey from spot to spot. It occupied the subsequent spot outright. Thus, standard forecasting proved worthless.

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