My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 517: Ferans And Nagas : A Space Odyssey

Somewhere in the Blue Spire Galaxy, a spaceship drifted through a dense asteroid belt. On its hull gleamed a crimson insignia, two claw marks slashed in the shape of an X. A silent warning to all who saw it: this vessel belonged to the Ferans, one of the strongest races in the galaxy.

[Vaelix Ranthor’s PoV]

I scrolled through the streams of data points, the faint glow of the holo-screen reflecting against my face. The reports came from the eastern quadrant of the front lines, skirmishes against the Eternals, casualty counts, energy expenditure, victory margins.

The numbers didn’t lie. We were holding, yes… but only barely.

I clenched my jaw. The Nagas were pulling ahead again, their warriors eclipsing ours. The best of their generation had already begun reaching heights that ours still struggled to touch. For all our ferocity, for all the Ferans’ power, we were lagging.

Not for long.

This trip, this gamble, might just shift the scales in our favor. My eyes narrowed as I recalled the intelligence our spies had risked everything to acquire.

Layers of deception, false trails, and carefully constructed diversions had been laid to ensure the Nagas, their allies, even the Eternals themselves, would remain unaware. The information we carried was too important, too delicate. If used well, it could change the balance in our favor.

My claws tapped slowly against the console, thinking, calculating… when suddenly an ear-splitting alarm shrieked through the ship. Red lights pulsed along the bulkheads.

The comms crackled.

“Commander… we have guests.”

I straightened, my tail flicking once behind me.

“Who?”

There was a pause, then the voice came back, heavy with unease.

“…The Nagas.”

My expression hardened, the low growl in my throat barely contained. Of all the cursed times…

I pushed away from the console and strode out, each step echoing along the steel corridor as I made my way to the control deck. The doors parted, revealing the wide viewing panel of the Feran warship.

And there it was.

A massive vessel hung in the void, dwarfing asteroids as if they were dust. Its hull bore a single, unmistakable emblem, an unblinking reptilian eye that seemed to stare directly into my soul.

The Nagas had arrived.

I walked to the viewing screen and planted my hands on the cold rim. My jaw was tight. The alarms still echoed faintly through the hull like a bad drumbeat. I didn’t want theater, I wanted answers.

“Connect me through,” I almost growled.

The console obeyed. The feed blinked, the light washed the deck, and the other ship’s bridge filled the screen.

A tall figure stepped forward in the glow, clothes cut from dark, scale-friendly fabric, a high collar, and the faint ridges of scales showing under the skin below his eyes. He wore authority like armor. And I knew him.

“Xebec,” I said. The name etched into my memories.

He laughed, a loose, easy sound that crawled under my skin. “Vaelix, finally I found you. I’ve missed you on the frontlines.”

The laugh kicked up memories I thought I’d buried.

Years of blade clashes, of being ground down by this man’s speed and cunning when I was nothing more than a master.

Now, after clawing my way to Transcendent, I still felt the same small ache, he was always one step ahead. Always. Those fights had left marks on me I couldn’t scrub clean: a dozen losses, a dozen lessons written on my bones.

I kept my voice even. “Why were you looking for me?”

“Looking for you?” His smile widened until it showed teeth. The sound that came after was another laugh, colder this time.

“I wasn’t looking for you, Vaelix. What makes you think that? I was only patrolling the sector. Too much killing was dulling my senses, so I pulled back from the front lines to clear my head. Imagine my surprise to find you here.” He shrugged as if he’d stumbled into me by accident.

I felt my blood heat. Every word slicked over like oil. Xebec always dressed his barbs as jokes. He was a snake from crown to tail. I wanted to shove a fist through the screen and see the scales crack under real metal. My knuckles clenched until the white line crawled under my skin.

Instead, I forced my tone flat. “Get to the point, Xebec.”

He lifted one shoulder, still smiling.

“Very well. Straight to the point then. Where are you headed?” I kept my face neutral, hiding the edge under my calm exterior.

So they had doubts. That wasn’t surprising. The Nagas were relentless across the front sector, rarely missing a single stray piece of information. Our efforts to stay hidden had been meticulous, but doubt alone didn’t bother me.

“And why would you care about that?” I scoffed. “I’m going to find a wife for myself.”

His eyes twitched at my answer, and I felt a small thrill at the reaction. A faint smile crept across my face.

“Oh? Is that so? Then you wouldn’t mind if I tagged along, would you? I mean… you’re about to get what—a seventh wife? That calls for a day of celebration. I’ll drink, dance, maybe sing a little. You know, proper festivities,” he replied almost immediately, the words dripping with his usual mockery.

I smirked slightly but shook my head.

“I would have taken you with me, Xebec, but my friend… you’re not invited. It’s a private occasion for very few people.”

He hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin as if weighing the situation. “All right, if you say so. I just have one more question, if you don’t mind me asking.” His tone carried that same cheeky, irritating lilt.

My stomach sank slightly at the sound. That smile told me he already knew more than he let on.

“Ask away,” I said, keeping my face carefully neutral, though every fiber of me braced for whatever he might throw next.

Xebec leaned closer to the camera, his scaled features glinting in the light. “Tell me, Vaelix… do you really think the Ferans can have it all for themselves? You don’t actually believe you can escape our gaze, do you?”

Creation is hard, cheer me up!