My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 509: I Have Devoured Abilities

A storm of thoughts tore through my head as I combed every corner of my domain, searching for an answer.

I pushed my Psynapse harder, scanning for runes, marks, distortions, anything that could have allowed the phantom to teleport me straight into its grasp. But there was nothing. No trace, no ripple left behind.

That only left the truth I didn’t want to admit. It wasn’t a trick of its domain at all, it was another talent. One of the three it had devoured.

And what a monstrous talent it was. To bend space this way, to twist the rules so casually... if it could do this, what else was it capable of?

The phantom didn’t give me time to wonder. It raised its massive palm, larger than my whole face, and leveled it at my head.

The air thickened. A circular black vortex bloomed just inches away from me, spinning with a hunger that made my skin crawl.

”Now,” it rasped, voice trembling with glee, ”let me devour your talent and see what it is.”

For a moment, I almost laughed. The sheer arrogance of it, thinking I had already lost, thinking I was nothing more than prey to be harvested. My lips curled into a grin despite the sword still buried in my gut.

”Not so fast, tin can,” I muttered.

If it could steal talents, then I could also take abilities from my summons. That was my edge. My gaze fixed on the glowing horizontal lines across its face as I called on the gift I had taken from Ragnar.

”Colossus Frame.”

I hadn’t expected what came next.

The Essence and deathmist raging inside me suddenly froze as if held in place. Then the runes carved across my body lit up, burning with violent light. Essence was ripped out of me with such force that my entire frame convulsed.

The pain was brutal.

A roar tore out of my throat, raw and unplanned, as my body swelled and stretched against my will. I could feel my muscles tearing and rebuilding, bones groaning as they expanded. Even the generator core inside me wasn’t spared—its reserves of Essence were sucked dry to fuel the change.

A shockwave burst out from me, kicking up dust and loose stones. The phantom, skill still active, was blasted off its feet and sent sliding backward. Meanwhile, I kept growing, my hands ballooning, my shoulders widening, my very skin threatening to split.

”Damn it,” I growled through gritted teeth. I had no choice. I forced one of my psynapse fractures to focus on the change, blocking the stream of Essence. The runes fought against me, hungry for more, but starved, they began to dim.

Only then did the growth halt. My body trembled under its own weight, steam rising off my skin as the violent transformation was cut short.

I looked down at myself, breath coming in ragged bursts. The transformation had not stopped completely. Even with the Essence cut off, the damage or changes were done.

My body had swollen to almost twenty feet tall, a hulking frame of coiled muscle that felt too tight for my skin.

My arms were thick, veins bulging and pulsing with residual Essence. My chest heaved like a forge bellows, each inhale dragging in more air than before. Even my bones felt heavier, denser, as though they had been reforged to hold this monstrous shape.

Then my eyes fell to the gash across my gut, the wound from the phantom’s sword.

The blade itself had vanished with the phantom when I blasted it back, but the damage remained. A deep, ugly slash cut through my ribs, bleeding sluggishly. The deathmist and corruption in the air made the injury burn like fire, slowing its natural healing.

”Verdant Extraction.” I whispered.

I felt the skill pull at the world around me, dragging in any trace of vitality it could find. But there was so little. The corruption had drained this place dry, choking out life itself.

Still, the ability clawed at whatever scraps remained. A patch of brittle grass blackened and crumbled to dust. A few scattered roots hidden under the cracked ground shriveled and died. Their life force bled into me, trickling into the wound.

It wasn’t enough.

I forced the skill harder, pushing my Psynapse to widen the draw. Even faint traces of vitality from the air itself, from the thin layer of fungus on distant stones, were stolen. They rushed into my body, weaving into flesh and knitting torn muscle together.

The pain was sharp and raw as tissue regrew under my skin, the wound pulling itself shut thread by thread. Slowly, agonizingly, the burning faded to a dull throb.

I exhaled, steam curling from my mouth, every breath heavy like smoke from a furnace. My body still towered close to twenty feet, muscles drawn so tight I felt I might split apart if I lost focus for even a second.

Finally, I lifted my head and met the phantom’s gaze.

”What are you?” it asked, its voice low, edged with curiosity.

I had no answer. No words came, only the burning in my chest.

With a single thought, my staff shot back into my grip, humming as it grew larger, reshaping to match my size. Essence poured into it, making the weapon heavy, perfect for me in this form.

”It’s my turn again,” I muttered, my voice rumbling deeper than before.

I took a single step forward then exploded into motion. The ground behind me cracked and split apart under the force, dust and shards of stone flying into the air as I appeared right in front of the phantom.

My staff swept across with all my weight behind it, a strike meant to crush its entire body.

The phantom reacted instantly. Its sword flashed up in defense, and the deathmist churned violently, forming wall after wall in front of it.

BOOM!

The first wall shattered like glass.

BOOM!

The next collapsed, ripped apart by the sheer force of my swing.

One after another they fell, until my staff slammed into the phantom’s blade.

The impact tore through the air, a shockwave blasting outward. The phantom’s body was hurled back like a ragdoll, flying almost a kilometer away as it ripped through the air.

I bent my knees and launched myself after it, the ground beneath me caving in under the force of my jump. The wind howled past as I closed the distance in a blink.

Essence flared violently along my staff, coating it in a blinding glow. I raised it high above my head and brought it down with all the force my giant body could muster, aiming straight for the phantom’s midsection.

BOOM!

The strike connected, and its body was driven into the earth with brutal force, smashing into the ground like a falling star. The impact shook the land, dust and debris bursting upward in a wave.