My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 267: Meeting Azalea Nag

The soft glow of life force continued to flow from the trees into Azalea’s massive, scaled body.

The last traces of corruption hissed as they peeled away, revealing gleaming sapphire-blue scales underneath.

I stood nearby, watching quietly, my wings folded behind me, Silver resting just a few paces away. The clearing pulsed with warmth and restoration—life reclaiming what had been twisted by death.

Her body shivered once more, stronger this time.

Then, her tail shifted.

The earth trembled slightly beneath her massive form as her long, serpentine body coiled ever so slightly. I took a cautious step back as her head lifted from the ground, her eyes—slit and glowing with a deep ocean blue—fluttered open.

She was awake.

Azalea rose, majestic and towering. Her serpent form stretched nearly a hundred feet, regal and imposing, yet there was no aggression in her eyes. Only confusion, and a trace of exhaustion.

Her voice echoed in my mind, deep and ancient.

“Who are you?”

I bowed slightly, respectful. “My name is Billion Ironhart. I came here because Lily asked me to. She said your soul had been split… and that you were fighting with the Phantom’s soul here.”

She blinked, her eyes narrowing at the mention of Lily. “Lily…”

Her massive body shimmered, glowing softly. Then, without warning, her form began to shift. The massive serpent dissolved into threads of blue light, swirling in the air before condensing into a humanoid shape.

A tall woman now stood before me, barefoot on the grass.

Her skin was pale with a faint glow, her long blue hair flowed down till her hips. Her eyes—still slitted like a serpent’s—gleamed with depth and quiet authority. Her robes were made of translucent soul-light, trailing behind her as if they floated on water.

Azalea, in her humanoid form.

She raised one hand with effortless grace, and the world around us shifted instantly. Space folded—and with a gentle pulse—we were standing in the great wooden hall once again, beside the closed gates where Lily’s waited.

Lily opened her eyes slowly, smiling with relief.

“You did it,” she whispered. “You brought her back.”

Azalea turned her head, her expression softening.

“Lily, it has been so long.”

Lily nodded, stepping away from the door. Her wooden body began to glow from within, and a stream of blue soul-light emerged from her chest. The light drifted toward Azalea, pulsing with familiarity, and without resistance, it merged with her.

Azalea closed her eyes as the soul fragment became whole again—memories, power, and purpose flowing into her. She stood still for a long moment. Then she exhaled slowly, her aura pulsing outward with grace.

She lifted her hand and stretched her senses outward—beyond the hall, beyond the clearing, through the entire realm. Her brows furrowed as what remained of her domain fed her the truth.

“This place… it’s changed so much.”

Her eyes opened slowly, locking onto mine. Calm, sharp, and ancient. She didn’t look confused—only focused. Memories clearly already stirring behind her gaze.

“I understand now,” she said softly. “Lily showed me everything.”

She continued.

“The Ferans… they’ve taken control. Manipulating the Holts from the shadows, using them to continue the experiments I left behind.”

She took a step forward, her form still radiating that soft soul-light.

Her voice dipped, turning heavier.

“Iris and Rose… are gone. Their fragments lost. Consumed by that thing.” Her eyes darkened.

“Only Lily and Dahlia remain.”

A beat of silence passed before she lifted her head again. “But I saw through Lily what you did. You’ve found a way… to conquer that abomination. To conquer the corrupted soul.”

Her tone held no disbelief—only quiet awe.

I let out a breath and gave a small nod.

Azalea looked at me for a long moment.

Her lips curled into a faint smile.

“Then let me offer something in return.”

She extended her hand to the side, and the ground outside the hall shimmered, revealing an overview of the entire realm.

The base where the prison was, the lush forest and the mountain range.

“This realm… I offer it to you, Billion Ironhart. A gift. It once answered to me. Now it shall answer to you.”

I blinked. “You’re giving me your realm?”

“I no longer wish to hold it,” she said quietly. “And Lily already promised it to you. That promise stands. My body is gone, and with it, my chance to ever progress further in rank or power. There’s nothing left for me here—except to pass it on.”

She stepped closer, the soft glow of her soul-form illuminating the space between us.

“I also offer something more: an alliance. Between my kind—the Naga—and your world. When the time comes, I will help you build the bridge between us.”

I hesitated for a second, then nodded.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

But she wasn’t finished.

“There are still three fragments of the Phantom’s soul out there, aren’t there?”

“Yes,” I said. “One on this island. One somewhere in the mountain range. And the last… with Dahlia.”

She gave a solemn nod.

“Then I ask one more thing of you. Hunt them. Destroy them. Cleanse what’s left of that wretched soul. Only then will I be truly free.”

I nodded again, slower this time.

Even if she hadn’t asked, I would’ve done it anyway. No way was I leaving a summon like that incomplete.

I turned to her and asked, “Will you come with me for the battle?”

She nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

I glanced around the large hall we stood in, the wood-carved walls glowing faintly with soul-light.

“But… Lily told me that if she ever left this place, the floating island would fall out of the sky.”

Azalea smiled faintly and raised her hand.

“Now it won’t.”

I blinked. Nothing seemed different. The walls still looked the same. The air still held the same quiet pressure.

“What did you do?” I asked, a bit confused.

She turned slightly, her expression unreadable. “I’ll show you later.”

Then, with a wave of her hand, the entire hall vanished. Just like that. I barely had time to register the shift before I realized we were standing back on the island—specifically, within the broken ruins where all of this had started.

Azalea exhaled, her gaze drifting over the shattered structures and worn-out stones. The wind tugged gently at the ends of her long, glowing hair.

“I spent most of my life in this place,” she said softly.

“Chasing a dream that probably never wanted me. Maybe I should’ve stopped at some point. Just… let go.”

I felt like I should say something, so I did.

“You’re only able to say that because things didn’t go the way you hoped. If they had… you’d be celebrating that you never gave up.”

She looked at me, then let out a quiet chuckle.

“Maybe. Who knows?”

The moment was short-lived. A deep tremor shook the island beneath our feet. I looked up sharply.

The Deathmist had returned.

A dense wall of smoke surged in from the distance, writhing like a living wave, black and purple tendrils stretching into the sky.

I turned quickly to Azalea.

“Can you do something to hide this place? If the Holts notice this much activity on the island, they’ll definitely come investigate.”

She gave a calm nod. “No problem.”

She lifted her hand again—and just like that, the world shifted once more.

I found myself floating in another space entirely. The atmosphere was thicker, more muffled, like sound itself had been wrapped in cloth. Azalea hovered beside me, serene as ever. And the Deathmist was here too, surging like an ocean storm, massive and relentless.

“This is a sealed pocket space,” she said. “I’ve anchored it outside the flow of the main island. On the outside, everything will appear quiet—motionless. But inside… we can do what we need to.”

I nodded slowly, staring at the monstrous tide of black mist gathering before us.

“Alright,” I said, gripping my staff tightly. “Let’s get started.”

Creation is hard, cheer me up!