My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 223: Unyielding Light

The moment I landed, the battlefield turned still for a split second. Dust scattered beneath my boots. Five Holts and a beast. All frozen in that breath before chaos. Their eyes widened, hands reaching for weapons, but I was already moving.

Light surged through me—fluid, pure, absolute. My fingers clenched. My Essence, already aligned with the light element, responded without resistance. I didn’t need spells. I didn’t need chants.

I raised my hand.

A flash.

A beam of concentrated light slammed into the snarling beast before it could react, boring through its skull and erupting out the back in a spray of gore. The creature collapsed, twitching violently, then lay still.

One down.

The Holts recovered quickly, weapons drawn, Essence flaring in a chorus of colors—fire, metal, wind, and earth. But my light drowned them all.

The closest man lunged toward me, blade humming with wind.

I sidestepped, twisted my fingers, and a needle-thin strand of light sliced across his chest. The man’s armor held for half a second before the beam punched through, carving a sizzling line that tore into flesh and bone.

His scream rang out, raw and broken, before I followed up with a palm to the head—light flaring on impact, exploding his skull like fruit under pressure. A hot spray of blood and brain matter splashed across my chest, but I didn’t flinch.

The others charged, thinking numbers would help.

“Fools.”

Two more came at once, one swinging a flaming axe, the other forming a shell of earth around his body.

I raised both hands, crossed my forearms, and whispered the command: “Shield.”

A shimmering dome of light surged into existence around me, solid and humming with energy.

The axe struck first—metal met the barrier with a loud crack, and the force of the impact hurled the attacker backward.

Before he could so much as groan, I extended my hand and fired a thin, concentrated beam of light. It punched through his throat, exiting in a red-hot burst.

The earth-clad warrior barreled toward me next, thinking brute strength would crack the dome. I let him hit it. The moment his body collided with the barrier, I clenched my fists and the shield responded. The light began to compress, folding inward in a controlled collapse.

He was caught inside as the dome constricted, light turning razor-sharp along its edges. His screams rose instantly, armor melting, flesh bubbling, tendons snapping under the pressure of radiant force.

The shield-turned-prison carved through him mercilessly, layer by layer, until all that remained was a smoking pile of ash and bloodied steel.

The light flickered once, then stabilized, waiting for my next command.

Only one remained now besides the leader.

He tried to run.

[Seismic Burst]

Boom!

Ground exploded beneath my boots.

I vanished in a flicker of light, reappearing in front of him. My hand clamped over his face, fingers digging into his cheeks as I forced his head upward.

“Die.”

Light burst from my palm like a concentrated spear, drilling through his mouth and erupting out the back of his skull in a flash of heat and violence.

His scream was severed instantly. Blood sprayed upward in a wide arc, chunks of brain and bone splattering across my arm and the ground behind him.

He twitched once, then crumpled, lifeless—his body collapsing in a pool of red, steam rising from the scorched wound.

Blood soaked the riverside. The silence that followed was almost reverent.

Only the leader remained.

He stood frozen, clad in his armor, a spear gripped tightly in his hands as lightning coiled around its shaft. His body trembled—not from tension, but from fear.

His level 143 meant nothing to me and he knew it.

He roared and lunged, thrusting his spear with practiced precision. I stepped forward and caught the shaft cleanly in my palm. Lightning surged along its length, arcing across my body, but it did nothing—if anything, it only fed my core, generating more Essence for me to use.

With my other hand, I raised a finger.

A concentrated beam of light burst forth, severing his arm from the shoulder in a single, clean shot.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

His scream tore through the air as the severed limb and spear fell to the ground, blood gushing violently from the stump.

His entire body shook, not from pain alone but from terror.

He turned and bolted toward the river, panic overriding discipline.

I didn’t chase him.

I stood there, drenched in Holt blood, and watched the light element flicker in my palm—calm, cold, and focused.

As I stared at the light dancing in my palm, something clicked.

It wasn’t just an element, it was also a principle.

Light pierced everything. Shadows, armor, flesh, it made no distinction. It never hesitated, never faltered. It simply moved, faster than anything else, unchallenged in its advance, unstoppable in its reach.

That was its nature. Unrelenting. Unquestioned.

I felt my pulse slow as that truth sank in. My will didn’t just control light, it aligned with it. I didn’t force it forward. I gave it direction, and it obeyed, because we were the same.

Fast. Direct. Absolute.

The glow in my palm pulsed once, sharp and clean.

And just like that, my understanding deepened.

[Minor Law of Absolute: 20% -> 40%]

I was pulled from my thoughts by the notification. The leader was nearly at the river’s edge—I knew he planned to dive in and escape.

I pointed a finger forward, and with a sharp whoosh, a beam of concentrated light tore through the air, slicing his leg just below the knee. He screamed, crashing hard onto the ground.

I approached him slowly, stepping over the bloodied earth, and stood above him. His body thrashed in pain, but even more in the grim realization that today would be his last.

I looked him in the eyes. “Tell me where the other Holts are.”

He glared back, gritting his teeth, refusing to speak.

Without hesitation, I fired another beam of light, this one slicing clean through his thigh. “If you want to suffer more, keep playing tough.”

He gasped, struggling for breath before he finally whispered, “East.”

I nodded. That matched what the other group had told me—everyone was searching toward the East, following a trail of clues.

I pressed further. “Do you know where they’re keeping the Ferans? Who holds the token to access them?”

His eyes widened, panic flaring. He stammered, “I’ve only heard rumors… I don’t know. Honestly, I have no idea.”

I fixed my gaze on him and slowly pointed a finger toward his head.

“Wait—don’t kill me! I can—”

Before he finished, a concentrated beam, nearly four inches thick, gathered at my fingertip and pierced through his skull, obliterating him completely.

I exhaled and scanned the area. The bodies of the Holts lay strewn around me; the ground soaked with blood and gore.

Raising my hand, flames roared to life, engulfing the corpses of both the Holts and the beast. Within moments, nothing remained but ash.

Turning toward the river, I commanded the surrounding Essence. Blue Essence surged, and the river water obeyed, rising in a wave that washed away all blood and residue, carrying it back into the depths.

I wanted anyone who came searching to believe the East was the right path—following the river’s flow, just as I intended.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!