My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 373: I Can Help Old Man

I stayed in the sky, still and floating, surrounded by clouds of my Essence, wings half-folded. My mind raced with thoughts of Dante. Where was that old man?

A whisper brushed my ear, carried through my domain like a ripple in still water.

”What are you doing there just floating, kid?”

My head snapped up.

”Go help them take down the Grandmasters. I won’t be able to hold off all three for long.”

My eyes widened a little in surprise.

The three Grandmasters with talents...the once I was told about, he was holding them back alone.

My body stiffened. That man was still buying us time.

My eyes narrowed as many thoughts rushed through my head. I had no idea how long he could hold, but I wouldn’t waste the time he’d given.

Scanning the battlefield through my perception, I turned toward the far northeast quadrant of the sky.

Edgar.

He was surrounded by a large, dark bat-shaped creature made from his own shadows. It moved with him, its wings spreading wide and sharp claws flashing in the light. Weapons formed from shadows appeared and vanished in his hands as he fought. The shadows around him twisted and danced like living things.

He was fighting a Holt Grandmaster wearing a long silver coat and holding a thin, curved sword that gave off a faint shimmer. The man also had a strange-looking moustache.

Each time he moved his sword, it cut through the air, leaving thin, almost invisible lines behind. Even Edgar, fast and powerful as he was, had to bend and twist his body in sharp ways just to dodge those deadly slashes.

I knew this wasn’t a fight I could dominate, this wasn’t my battle. But I could support.

I flew toward them, accelerating with one push of my wings. I activated my defense skill and vortexes shimmered around me, my Essence forming spinning violet spirals that flashed around my limbs and shoulders.

The moment I entered the fight, Edgar glanced at me through the corner of his vision. He didn’t say a word. Just gave a small nod, like he’d been expecting me.

The Grandmaster’s sword slashed toward Edgar again, fast and deadly. I raised my palm, and my domain stirred.

”[Revert].”

Several runic circles flared to life in the air ahead of me, glowing softly with violet light. As the sword slash passed through them, the energy inside my domain moved to meet it. Essence strands coiled and twisted, working to untangle the technique.

The slash didn’t stop but it weakened. The sharpness dulled slightly, its force reduced as the runes stripped away part of the skill’s structure. By the time it neared Edgar, it had lost maybe a third of its strength.

Edgar scoffed and swung his claw through the air. A shadowy, illusory claw shot out, colliding with the sword slash and breaking it apart.

Then he raised both hands, and the shadows around him twisted. They spun into a swirling vortex before launching giant shadow spears one after another, each flying toward the swordsman at incredible speed.

The silver-coated Grandmaster stepped lightly to the side. His curved blade danced, leaving silver arcs in the air. One, two, three spears shattered in mid-air, sliced before they even reached him. The fourth made it through, but he spun, blade dragging a clean line through the spear’s center, splitting it into vapor.

I narrowed my eyes.

Edgar’s face tightened. His vortex pulsed again. This time, a dozen spears shot out all at once, some slow, some angled, others curving unnaturally through the air. The swordsman’s expression sharpened. He raised his weapon and slashed in a wide, sweeping arc.

A ring of cutting force exploded from him. The air groaned. Half the spears were sliced apart instantly, but a few got close, close enough to graze his shoulder, his thigh.

In that moment, Edgar moved.

I heard him whisper.

”[Twisted Reality].”

His body blurred into the shadows, and multiple Edgars appeared from the darkness, each cloaked in black, their forms shifting like mist. They fanned out in a wide arc, surrounding the silver-coated Grandmaster from every side.

But through my domain, I could see the truth. I felt the flow of Essence, only one Edgar was real. The rest were crafted from bent light and warped shadow.

The illusions raised their hands at once and began to draw glowing black circles in the air. The circles pulsed with eerie light, their edges dripping with tendrils of dark mist. From within, I heard Edgar’s real voice echo softly across the battlefield.

”[Dark Touch].”

A moment later, dozens of small black palms shot out from each circle. They were ghostly and fast, rushing forward like a wave of grasping hands. The air grew heavy, the place dimmed as the hands flew in all directions, homing in on the Grandmaster.

The swordsman’s eyes widened. He sprang back, flying through the air with a burst of Essence. The pressure around him twisted as he spun twice mid-air, then shouted, voice laced with power.

”[Accurate Slash]!”

Essence churned around him, rising in sharp waves.

His eyes glowed bright blue, the veins on his face and arms lit up like threads of energy. His sword arm moved fast, too fast to follow fully. He slashed once, blue fire erupted from the blade. He slashed again, another wave exploded outward. One after another, he unleashed a rapid flurry of slashes, each strike launching a searing crescent of blue flame.

The slashes howled through the air, colliding with the incoming dark palms.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Each contact was like an explosion of light and shadow. Palms were burned away. Fire was snuffed out mid-air. The sky flickered with bursts of blue and black, the wind screaming from the pressure.

And that was when I acted again.

I held out my hand. A glowing violet rune spun into existence above my palm, three circles rotating in opposite directions. One crackled with fire, one sparked with lightning, and one shimmered faintly with folded space.

”[Thunderflame Dominion],” I said softly.