My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 512: Final Push


Crimson mist poured from my body as both of them appeared at my sides.

Their eyes widened slightly when they saw my battered state, but I didn't give them a chance to hesitate.

"No time. Attack!" I shouted.

Ragnar was the first to move.

A roar tore from his throat as he leapt forward. Mid-air, his body began to shift and expand, muscles bulging as his form transformed into a colossal ape. His bone club materialized in his massive hands, gleaming faintly as he swung it above his head, channeling his power.

"Titan's Verdict!" he bellowed.

The club glowed silver, humming with Force laws, before crashing down onto the phantom. The force sent a shockwave ripping across the battlefield, colliding with the dark mist swirling around it.

Lyrate appeared next, her body dispersing into particles before reforming high above the sky.

"Forest's Wrath," she whispered.

The ground between me and the phantom cracked violently as black-and-red roots erupted upward. Trees, twisted and monstrous, tore through the earth, roots thicker than my own body, racing toward the phantom like living spears.

"GET LOST!" the phantom shrieked, its voice cutting through the air like a blade. Its domain surged violently, black deathmist erupting from the ground, twisting into massive roots of its own to counter Lyrate's assault.

Steel met wood, and deathmist collided with raw Essence. The phantom swung its sword, and Ragnar's bone club met it with a shower of sparks, the impact sounding like a thunderclap across the battlefield.

Ragnar's body was thrown backward instantly, his limbs flailing as he hit the ground.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, and let my senses sweep through my domain. The phantom's second talent was unfair, chaotic, unpredictable, and impossible to track fully. I couldn't afford to react blindly. I needed to neutralize it, and I had to do it now.

I felt the weakness about to rise in my body and knew it was time to push my body to its limits. I activated my last physical ability.

[Apex Body – Transcendent (Passive)]:

Essence Redistribution: Up to 20% of any stat (Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Psynapse) can be transferred temporarily to another stat.

Without hesitation, I siphoned 20% of my Psynapse into my Strength. My muscles tensed, swelling with raw power. My fists throbbed with energy, almost eager to strike.

But the transfer came at a cost. My senses dulled slightly, the subtle ripples of Essence, the faint movements of air, even the tiny shifts in the phantom's presence were harder to catch.

The world felt heavier, slower in some ways, as if the extra strength weighed down my awareness. Still, the trade was worth it; I could feel my body screaming with lethal potential, primed to unleash everything at once.

I didn't waste a moment. Mentally, I reached out to Ragnar, Lyrate, and Knight. Words flowed silently between us. A faint surge of their acknowledgment reached me.

Then I moved. A flash of violet Essence, and I was above the phantom, staff raised high.

The world blurred as my senses extended, catching every tremor of the battlefield. True to my command, Knight brought Ragnar and Lyrate alongside me through his spatial skill.

We formed a triangle around the phantom, me and Ragnar hovering above, Lyrate on the ground, and Knight on one flank.

Now was the moment. I activated the Equivalence Clause.

Runes bloomed across my domain, each glowing in sharp violet hues, flowing in complex patterns that made my head spin.

I sacrificed the fluidity of space itself, the ability of space to bend, warp, or twist under any force. It was a delicate balance; I had to give up just enough to enforce absolute spatial stability without collapsing my command.

Immediately, the battlefield snapped into place. No trick, no displacement, nothing could bypass my will now.

I roared, driving every ounce of my Essence into my staff, making it unbearably heavy and thrumming with power.

The phantom roared back, deathmist flaring violently around it, and I saw the ripple of its talent strike outward.

But this time, it met nothing but an unyielding void.

My staff flared, the Minor Law of Polarity igniting along its length. An attraction field rippled outward, pulling the phantom slightly toward my strike.

At the same time, Ragnar's massive bone club glowed silver, his own polarity flaring to create a synchronized pull.

Lyrate's sword shimmered crimson as she appeared below, roots and spikes bursting from the ground. Knight's shadows surged violently, coiling around us to form a dark protective dome, making sure no escape was possible and fighting against the churning deathmist.

Seeing that its displacement failed, the phantom's aura surged violently. It swung its sword into a defensive stance, and a solid dome of thick, swirling deathmist erupted around it.

I didn't hesitate. In perfect sync, we drove our attacks downward.

BOOM!

The phantom's dome shuddered violently, deathmist spraying outward as roots erupted from the ground beneath Lyrate, writhing and coiling like snakes to trap its legs. Knight's shadows surged along the edges, cutting off stray blasts of deathmist that tried to reach us.

Then the dome shattered.

The phantom let out a roar of frustration and rage, but our combined assault had ripped through its defenses. Its body was hurled downward like a falling meteor, crashing into the roots and then slamming hard against the ground.

I seized the moment. I lunged forward and grabbed its head in a vice-like choke, forcing its neck back.

Ragnar's massive hands clamped around its legs, pulling with all his might. The phantom thrashed and roared, trying to twist free, but we were relentless.

Lyrate's crimson mist surged from below, forming sharp roots that coiled around its body restraining it further, while Knight's shadows pulsed to contain any bursts of deathmist.

I roared and with a final heave yanked its head violently from its shoulders, its scream cut short as the separation was complete. Its body collapsed, deathmist spilling out like dark water, writhing but powerless.

I tightened my grip on its head, my arms shaking from the raw effort. Ragnar released its legs, and the corpse slumped fully into the roots below.

Around us, the battlefield fell silent as the red glow of the horizontal lines on its head finally dimmed down completely.

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