My Talent's Name Is Generator

Saleos did not speak at once.

He studied Ragnar the way a commander studied terrain before committing troops, slow, deliberate, letting the silence stretch. Ragnar stood easily with his club planted on the floor, relaxed but grounded, like a mountain that did not need to announce its weight.

After a few breaths, Saleos spoke.

“Do you understand what it means to stand at my right?” he asked.

Ragnar considered the question. “It means you put me where things go wrong first,” he said. “Where pressure gathers. Where decisions matter.”

Saleos nodded slightly. “And where deaths are counted.”

Ragnar met his gaze. “That too.”

Saleos stepped closer. His presence pressed down, hot and sharp, the weight of countless battles behind it. Ragnar did not shift.

“My right commander does not chase glory,” Saleos said. “He does not abandon positions for a good fight. He does not burn everything just because he can.”

Ragnar’s expression turned thoughtful instead of defensive. “That’s fine,” he said. “Killing is easy. Anyone can do that if they’re strong enough.”

Saleos raised an eyebrow.

“What matters,” Ragnar continued, “is knowing when not to kill. Knowing how long to hold a line so others can move. Knowing when to stand still even when every part of you wants to charge.”

Saleos watched him carefully now. “So tell me,” he said, “do you only know how to destroy… or do you know how to protect as well?”

Ragnar shifted his grip on the club. “I protect what I’m told to protect,” he said evenly. “People. Positions. Retreat paths. If you put something behind me, it stays there unless you order otherwise.”

A long silence followed.

“And who do you answer to?” Saleos asked.

“Billion,” Ragnar replied without pause. “On the battlefield, you.”

Saleos exhaled slowly. “If those orders ever clash?”

“Billion,” Ragnar said.

Saleos turned away at last. “Stand where I tell you,” he said. “Protect what needs protecting. Thats all I will ask for now. If you falter then I will send you back.”

Ragnar smiled faintly.

Saleos turned toward me. “Send me the list of those you have noticed,” he said, his tone steady again. “I will share my plan with you through Ragnar.”

I nodded once.

He then faced the others. “Mazikeen, you stay with the Order. The rest of you, follow me back.”

There was no hesitation. He gave me one final nod and then vanished in a flash of fire and space. Dravon, Korvath, and the remaining demon followed him immediately, their movements just as sharp and disciplined.

The room grew quiet.

Only us… and Mazikeen.

For a heartbeat, no one spoke.

“That went well,” Aurora said cheerfully, breaking the silence as she walked over to Mazikeen and gently took her hand between her palms.

Mazikeen blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Aurora continued with a bright smile. “I’ll take very good care of you. If anyone bullies you in the group, you just let me know.” She leaned in slightly and lowered her voice, whispering, “Just stay away from Lyrate. She’s a bit—” Aurora tapped the side of her head meaningfully.

“Aurora,” Lyrate said flatly, staring at her.

Aurora paused mid-gesture and turned her head just enough to look back. “Yes?”

“I can hear you,” Lyrate finished calmly.

Aurora nodded, as if that explained everything. “That means your pointy ears are working properly,” she said in approval.

Lyrate’s eye twitched.

“Why does it look like you want my attention?” she said flatly.

“Hm?” Aurora tilted her head, genuinely confused.

“You’re clearly trying to make me jealous by clinging to that demon,” Lyrate continued, her tone sharp and precise. “Are you into women, Aurora? Let me be very clear, not in a million years will I ever say yes to you.”

Aurora stared at her for a second. Then another.

“What are you even talking about?” she asked, baffled.

Lyrate clicked her tongue. “Looks like your mushy brain isn’t working properly.”

With that, her body dispersed into crimson mist, dissolving into the air as she left the hall without another word.

“Hey!! get back here!” Aurora shouted.

The next instant, her body cracked into a bolt of lightning and shot after Lyrate, leaving a faint echo behind.

The hall fell silent again.

I slowly turned my head toward Knight.

He was already looking at me.

Neither of us blinked.

After a long moment, Knight sighed.

“Fine,” he said tiredly. “So now I’m a babysitter too.”

Shadows folded around him, and he vanished.

I stood there alone, staring at the empty hall, listening to the distant crackle of lightning and the fading ripple of crimson mist.

I exhaled.

This war was complicated.

But this… this was somehow worse.

Mazikeen chuckled softly, the sound breaking the silence.

“How did you even form your group?” she asked, her gaze fixed on me, curiosity slipping past her usual composure.

I glanced at her and smiled. “Oh? Are you interested in joining?”

“No,” she said immediately, flat and firm.

I sighed theatrically. “That’s a shame. You know Steve likes you.”

Her head snapped toward me. “What?”

“Yeah,” I continued casually. “I heard him mutter your name in his sleep.”

She stared at me like I had finally lost my mind.

“I don’t have time for this,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. Her expression hardened, eyes sharpening. “I have a mission to fulfill.”

I raised an eyebrow. “All this… what, exactly?”

“All this stupid nonsense,” she replied. “Jokes. Teasing. Distractions.”

I shrugged, completely unfazed. “When did I say you had to do anything? I’m just sharing information. Whether you care or not is up to you.”

She clicked her tongue but didn’t respond.

I turned away and stretched slightly. “Come on. Steve already compiled the list of the traitors.”

Then I glanced back at her, smiled, and gave a quick wink.

With a casual wave of my hand, space folded.

The world shifted.

And we vanished toward the third layer.

The moment we arrived, the tone shifted.

The residence was quiet, sealed tight against the distant noise of the battlefield. The heavy hum of Essence outside was muted here, like thunder heard through thick stone. In the hall, Primus and Steve sat cross-legged on the floor, both deep in meditation. Their breathing was steady, controlled. They didn’t open their eyes when we appeared, but I knew they had sensed us.

North wasn’t there.

Mazikeen stepped aside without a word as I moved forward. I waited a few seconds. Steve was the first to finish. He exhaled slowly, opened his eyes, and stood up. Primus followed right after, waving a high toward Mazikeen.

“Everything go well?” Steve asked.

“Well enough,” I replied. “Can you handover me the list?”

He nodded and reached into his storage ring, pulling out a stack of papers.

I took it from him. The moment my fingers closed around it, I scanned it entirely once and sent it.

Through the mind link, the information flowed cleanly and fast, every name, every detail transferred directly to Ragnar. I felt his acknowledgment a second later.

I looked at the group. “First phase is simple. We remove the traitors. Quietly. Cleanly. No noise that reaches the Eternal’s side.”