My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 381: Against The Trio

Just as I was about to rush to Arkas, a voice echoed directly in my mind. Deep, rough and definitely made up.

”Come.”

Dante.

The others turned at the same time. All of us stared ahead as the air split open. A jagged line of violet light tore through space, Essence leaking out from its edges. A strange land was visible on the other side of the crack in space.

A portal opened.

We all straightened and looked ahead.

Cassian was the first to speak. ”Let’s move.”

One by one, the others stepped into the portal.

I paused just long enough to extend my perception, checking on Steve and North. They were fine.

Then I followed.

My boots hit cracked ground. No sky. No clouds. Just a glaring hot sun. The whole place felt broken.

A sealed pocket space, like the world itself had shattered and barely held together. The ground had deep cracks running everywhere, and the remains of giant stone pillars stood like the bones of a dead city.

Cilian let out a sharp curse.

Cassian stepped forward

”So this is where he dragged them.”

I looked ahead.

Three people stood on the other side of the field.

The first was huge, his body hard and polished like black stone. His arms looked like they were made of living crystal, with orange light glowing through the cracks in his skin.

The second was thinner, faster-looking. His skin was marked with silver tattoos that moved slightly as he breathed. He carried no weapon but moved like he didn’t need one.

The third wore long robes, a strange calm smile on his lips, and his body shimmered like light itself couldn’t hold onto him properly.

The three Grandmasters of the Holt family with talents. I named them Rocky, Speedy and Slippery.

And yet... they weren’t fighting Dante.

They were throwing attacks at the space around them.

”Where the hell is Dante?” Edgar muttered.

I narrowed my eyes. I couldn’t see him. But I felt him through my perception.

He was here. He was the one twisting the world like this. His presence flooded the space like pressure under our skin. The three Grandmasters were trying to escape, throwing attacks blindly at whatever they thought was holding them back. But they were trapped.

Then they turned and saw us.

Rocky pointed at us.

”More rats.”

The Slippery man smiled wider. ”Welcome. You’re just in time to die.”

Cassian scoffed. ”We’ll see about that.”

Behind us, Arkas coughed and slowly sat down, blood still trailing from his open cuts. His body trembled slightly from the strain.

”I’ll stay back,” he said quietly. ”Support from here. Don’t wait for me.”

Edgar gave a sharp nod, then stepped forward without a word. The others followed.

I stayed beside Arkas, close enough to watch everything but far enough not to get in their way. He rested his hand on the ground, small sparks of lightning flickering around his fingers. Even hurt, he was preparing to act.

The five Grandmasters spread out naturally, each one calm, focused. Cassian was the first to move. Golden light flared around his body, shining from his skin like a second sun. He waved his hand and summoned an axe. His axe glowed bright, and with one clean motion, he charged forward like a comet.

Rocky stepped in front of the others. His arms bulged, and the light around him warped as his skin turned a deep black with veins of burning orange. He slammed both fists into the earth, and a wall of solid crystal shot up in front of Cassian’s path.

But Cassian didn’t stop.

His axe came down with a roar, slicing through the stone like paper. The impact sent shockwaves across the ground. But just as he pushed through—

Speedy was there.

A blur of silver and air, he struck Cassian across the side before the golden warrior could adjust. A pulse of wind followed the hit, sending Cassian sliding back across the cracked earth. He twisted mid-slide, planting his axe to slow himself.

Cillian raised both hands, ice forming along his arms like armor. With a flick of his wrist, sharp spears of cold launched toward Speedy. The blur vanished, and Cillian’s attack passed through empty space. Then Speedy reappeared, already behind him.

But Edgar was waiting.

Shadows erupted from the ground like black vines, latching onto Speedy’s legs and arms. For a moment, he froze, pinned by Edgar’s grasp.

That was all Cassian needed. He shot forward again, a beam of sunlight trailing behind his weapon.

Slippery raised his hand.

Suddenly, Cassian stopped.

Or rather, he didn’t. We all saw him keep moving forward, axe raised. But at the same time, another version of Cassian appeared behind him—stumbling, confused, as if pulled from a dream.

A perfect illusion.

The real Cassian blinked in confusion, his footing awkward.

”Stay focused,” Edgar snapped. ”He’s twisting what you see!”

”Thanks for the tip,” Cassian muttered, tightening his grip.

Wind slammed into them again as Speedy broke free. The gusts pushed everyone back but Cillian dropped to a knee and froze the ground beneath them, locking it down with frost. Then he raised a wall of ice in front of Edgar to block the incoming blast.

Rocky roared and charged. His body glowed orange now, lines of heat running across his arms and chest. He slammed into the ice wall and shattered it, rushing at Cillian with fists like hammers.

Cassian moved to intercept, swinging his axe at Rocky’s shoulder, but a gust of wind knocked the blow off target. Speedy zipped in again, kicking Cassian away. At the same time, Slippery bent the light again, splitting the battlefield with more false images and mirrored movements.

It was coordinated. Smart. The three Holt Grandmasters fought like one body with three heads. When one attacked, the other blocked the counter. When one fell back, another stepped in to cover. Slippery kept creating confusion, Speedy struck the weak spots, and Rocky absorbed the brunt of the hits.

Cillian stayed calm. His breath fogged the air around him as he shifted his stance, drawing more cold from the air. A layer of thick frost coated the ground around his feet, spreading outward. Then he lifted his arms, and the sky itself dimmed. Snowflakes began to fall, slow and quiet.

With the air cooling fast, Speedy started to slow.

Edgar took the chance. His shadow moved again, twisting along the ground like a snake and grabbed Rocky’s leg. The earth-user growled and punched down, breaking the grip.

Cassian burst in from the side, this time fully glowing, his axe trailing golden fire. The swing forced Rocky to block with both arms, and even then, the impact sent cracks running up his crystallized forearms.

But Slippery struck again. This time, he didn’t just make illusions, he shifted the entire scene. For a second, it looked like the battlefield was gone and replaced by a forest. Trees, wind, birds—all fake, but the distraction was enough to throw off their rhythm.

I clenched my fists as I watched from beside Arkas. It was frustrating, not getting involved into the fight myself.. Our Grandmasters were stronger, more skilled—but the Holt trio fought with tight teamwork, each making up for the other’s weakness. They were in sync. And their goal was clear: hold the line, suppress our power, and wear us down.

Arkas suddenly lifted his hand.

A streak of lightning shot out from his palm and arced across the sky, slicing through Slippery’s illusion.

The fake trees shattered. The battlefield returned.

Arkas grinned faintly. ”You’re not the only one who can bend light.”

I stayed beside him, ready to help if he fell again. But he stayed seated, focusing only on his recovery.