My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 815 The Sword

Without pausing, I soared directly to the summit. Every advance narrowed the distance to the top, making the dark blade more distinct against the shadowy heavens. Upon reaching the crest, I settled lightly onto a leveled stone area formed by nature into a round dais. Another crimson ring sat at its heart. The sword was thrust straight into that ring.

Just a couple of inches of the edge protruded above the rock, with the remainder sunk deep into the mountain's core. The edge gleamed black, dull and non-reflective, save for one silver streak slicing neatly down its middle from point to hilt. The grip was bound securely in shadowy cord, slender yet sturdy, coiled evenly for a solid hold. The crossguard stayed simple and functional, free of any flair. The weapon bore no embellishments.

I advanced and grasped the hilt with my palm.

The instant my digits wrapped around it, a wave of mortality engulfed me.

This wasn't some assault.

It felt like inevitability.

A powerful urge roared inside that unless I yanked my hand back right away, death would claim me right there. My form responded ahead of any reasoning, limbs coiling, pulse racing, perceptions sharpening. It seemed total, like the blade had sealed my doom already.

For the briefest instant, the drive to withdraw surged fiercely.

I stayed put.

Rather, my energy burst forth explosively.

Vital force erupted from my being in a fierce torrent, radiating over the summit and further. The suspended chunk quaked beneath the power while my essence swelled, countering the smothering sense of doom. The force ramped up at once as a reply, bearing down fiercer on my thoughts, my center, my spirit.

It sought to penetrate.

It breached beyond the outer layers of cognition and delved into the profound depths of my existence, striving to imprint a conclusion straight into my inner realm. I allowed its entry.

My essence quivered from the blow.

The mirage was intense. A sight of conclusion. Of obliteration.

Next, a wave coursed through my essence.

The consolidation of all my achievements. Each chamber. Each clash. Each merging. Each spirit taken in.

The mirage fractured.

It burst apart. The assurance of demise splintered beneath the weight of my resolve. The force lingered, yet it ebbed sufficiently for me to concentrate. I clenched tighter and tugged.

The sword remained immobile.

Not a single bit.

I squinted and channeled extra power into my limb. My sinews bunched, vessels bulging as I applied might. The rock under my stance fissured slightly from the strain.

The edge budged.

Hardly.

Two inches.

That proved my limit. The opposition was vast. It seemed the peak itself clutched the edge from underneath, denying its ascent. My limb quivered from the exertion, yet I kept my hold.

I breathed out steadily.

This had nothing to do with skill.

It centered on power.

I triggered my bodily skill right away, essence redistribution, and shifted 20% of my Psynapse toward my might. The shift happened instantly, and the impact was huge. Power coursed through my frame, sinews firming with fresh vigor.

I tugged once more.

The edge lifted by one more inch.

The peak quaked fiercely now, fissures extending from the crimson ring under my soles. The blade's force grew stronger, but I stayed firm, pressing onward.

Bit by bit, I compelled it higher. Every inch took toil. Every shift extracted further from my reserves.

The silver streak on the edge grew clearer as it surfaced, the ebony metal unveiling itself bit by bit. My limb vibrated, yet I persisted. My energy blazed anew, bolstering my form as I kept drawing.

Yet another inch.

Followed by one more.

The opposition held firm, as did I. At last, with a supreme burst of power, I wrenched the sword loose. The peak convulsed wildly as the edge fully exited the rock. The crimson ring below me fractured and divided. For an instant, all fell quiet.

I remained upright, respiration even, the sword completely within my grasp. For a short while, nothing stirred. The peak stayed steady under my feet, and quiet expanded in all directions.

Then the floating mass shook.

It started with a faint hum, soft yet clear, rippling from the crest down via the rock underfoot. The crimson ring, split when I drew the edge out, now broke more, slender cracks veining across the level top. The shaking built swiftly, spreading beyond the crest to the whole form.

An energy wave rushed out. As soon as it swept the emptiness, grazing my awareness, I knew it without doubt.

Amun.

It came weakly, not his complete essence, yet clearly his. That same serene profundity, that same veiled might lurking under poise. The energy pulsed broadly outward, sweeping the nearby void before receding.

The quakes turned fierce.

Fissures started etching the peak's face, from the top racing down in rough paths. The rock parted with crisp sounds echoing through the emptiness. Whole parts of the crest moved as gaps broadened, ripping the once-solid form.

I didn't linger.

I retreated and vanished from the crest, shifting hundreds of meters into the open. There, I observed.

The peak rumbled as a huge split cleaved it from crown to bottom. The face caved in then burst out, flinging rock pieces adrift.

The fissures hit the base.

The wrecked settlement, formerly concealed under the peak's foundation, now lay bare as the form disintegrated. Paths divided. Structures toppled as their base crumbled. Spires, ruined for eras, now fell completely, breaking into bits that plunged into the void.

Yet another shake pulsed through the chunk.

A profound split ripped the peak's middle, splitting it into twin enormous sections. The divide grew gradually first, rock scraping rock, then abruptly tore wide as the inner frame collapsed.

The floating mass detonated.

Not with flames, but through savage breakup. The peak shattered into myriad shards, big plates fracturing into tinier ones as they floated away. The wrecked settlement turned to rubble in moments, its pieces mingling with the sundered rock.

The whole enduring suspended form now lingered solely as shards gliding in hushed void.

I hung in place afar, blade clutched, eyeing the wreckage drift leisurely outward.

No crimson ring remained. No chambers. Just broken rock adrift in the emptiness. The ordeal concluded, and multiple system alerts sounded in my mind.