My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 262: My Presence Makes Them Crazy

I found myself back inside the pocket space with Lily, who looked like she had been waiting for me. Her massive head lowered slightly as her golden eyes locked onto mine.

“You have grown stronger,” she said, her voice deep and calm.

I nodded. “I just wanted to be as prepared as possible.”

She tilted her head slightly, considering my words. “Are you ready?”

“I am,” I replied with quiet certainty.

“Alright then,” she said. “I wish you luck.”

Lily turned her long, serpentine body toward the large door behind her. I stepped aside to give her space. Two narrow beams of light shot out from her eyes, hitting the sealed doors directly. A network of glowing runes lit up on the surface of the stone, coming alive one by one like the gears of a massive clock slowly turning.

Click by click, the runes unraveled.

With a low groan, the ancient doors began to open, the sound echoing through the chamber like grinding stone.

“Hurry,” Lily said firmly. “I won’t open it completely.”

I took a steady breath and activated my skill.

“[Essence Engine].”

“[Psynapse Fracture].”

Essence surged through me in an instant. I felt the pressure build inside my body as another fracture bloomed across my Psynapse, enhancing it even further. Every nerve in my body lit up with clarity and focus.

Without hesitation, I stepped forward and crossed the threshold. The moment I passed through, the heavy doors groaned again, and began closing behind me.

A final glance back showed Lily watching silently, her expression unreadable.

Then the doors sealed shut.

My perception spread out across the area, revealing a corrupted forest stretching endlessly in all directions.

The trees were twisted and rotten, their bark faded to a lifeless gray. Cracks split the ground beneath my feet, and a thick layer of brittle, dried leaves muffled every step.

There was no sky—only a vast, oppressive darkness hanging overhead. No stars. No moon. Just a ceiling of black. The entire place felt abandoned by time, like it had decayed for centuries without end. An endless forest, silent and dead.

Finding no trace of Azalea or any sign of the Phantom’s soul, I decided to explore the rest of the corrupted forest.

With a single flap of my crimson wings, I shot into the air, rising above the withered treetops. The shimmering door I came through shrank behind me as I flew farther and farther away, scanning the area below.

It didn’t take long. After just a few seconds, my perception picked up something ahead—a massive wall of Deathmist.

I slowed down and hovered midair, eyes fixed on the swirling black fog. The mist rolled and churned like a living thing, dark waves of smoke curling off the wall’s surface and spreading into the forest below.

“Damn, that looks nasty,” I muttered.

There was no doubt in my mind. Whatever I was here to face, whatever corrupted soul I had come to confront—it was behind that wall.

I hovered in place, debating my approach. Should I force my way through the mist and face whatever was waiting? Or should I just directly attack the wall?

Before I could decide, the Deathmist moved. It twisted violently, and a vortex formed in the center of the wall. A second later, a black spear burst out, flying straight at me with brutal speed.

I reacted instantly.

“[Spatial Shield].”

Space shimmered before me, and a glowing square barrier snapped into existence. The spear hit it with a sharp crack, pressing into the shield before breaking apart and dissolving back into mist. My barrier held.

The vortex vanished. The wall of Deathmist began to churn again—harder, faster. Something was coming through.

Then I saw it.

A figure stepped out from the black wall, tall and towering.

The Phantom.

It wasn’t a physical body, just a soul form. But even like this, it radiated overwhelming pressure.

It stood over twenty feet tall, its entire form made of that swirling Deathmist. Plates of thick, shadowy armor clung to its body, formed from the same black energy.

With each step it took, the cracked ground splintered further beneath its feet. Mist rolled off its frame in slow, heavy waves, spreading out like a creeping plague.

Its face had no features—just a smooth, dark surface with two glowing red eyes. No mouth, no nose, no ears. Just those eyes, burning like twin embers in a storm of black smoke.

It walked forward slowly, each step shaking the cracked ground beneath it. Then it stopped. Its head lifted slightly, and its gaze locked onto mine.

We stared at each other in complete silence.

I whispered, “Absolute Domain.”

In the next instant, my domain exploded outward.

A pulse of force radiated from my body, silent but immense, and the air around me shifted.

The deathmist rippled as my domain spread across the space, swallowing everything within reach—including the Phantom. Violet particles flickered faintly around me as the domain took hold, adjusting the rules of reality to my will.

I couldn’t afford to give this thing even a single advantage.

I already knew what I was dealing with. Deathmist—an anti-Essence substance.

It devoured energy, corroded structure, and twisted nature itself. If I let it dominate the fight, I’d be forced to fight on its terms. That wasn’t an option.

It wasn’t just about power. It was about control. Between me and the Phantom, only one of us could dictate the flow of battle. That was the rule here—winner takes control. And I wasn’t planning to lose.

I raised my right hand and called for my weapon.

In a flash of light and Essence, my staff appeared, the long shaft solid and cold in my grip. The weight felt familiar. Comforting.

There was a reason every combat manual warned about fighting Phantoms unarmed. Their very presence resisted Essence. Their armor was forged by corrupted laws, designed to counter and reflect Essence-based attacks. Even the strongest blast of pure Essence would be deflected if it wasn’t properly focused.

That left two options—either bring more Essence than they could consume, or use a weapon that could carry it for you. A weapon that could strike through the resistance and reach what mattered.

I had both.

There was one more thing I needed to test—Silver.

Since he had been born from a corrupted soul, I wanted to see how the Deathmist would react to him, or if it would affect him at all. Understanding that could give me a valuable edge in this place.

So, I summoned him.

Crimson mist poured out from my core, swirling through the air like smoke caught in a storm. Then, with a sharp, piercing screech, Silver emerged.

His wings unfurled wide, cutting through the air with ease as he hovered beside me, staring at the Phantom.

His levels had increased to Level 144.

My eyes narrowed as I watched the Phantom. It remained still, saying nothing, making no move—just standing there while waves of thick mist rolled off its body. The only thing it did was lock its glowing red eyes on me.

But then, without warning, a sudden tremor surged through my generator core.

An unfamiliar aura erupted from deep within, bursting out of my body and flooding the entire domain in an instant.

And the Phantom… it lost control.

A sharp, ear-splitting scream tore through the air, echoing violently across the domain. The sound rattled through my bones as the creature thrashed, its composure shattered in an instant.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!