My Talent's Name Is Generator
Chapter 277: The Attack Is Ongoing

Chapter 277: The Attack Is Ongoing

My entire body burst out from the thick clouds where the castle floated. The wind howled past me as I pivoted sharply in the air, then shot upward again.

I began channeling Essence into my staff, letting the power flow freely through it. As the Essence surged, the staff trembled in my grip—vibrating like it was alive—before suddenly growing in length, shooting upward like a spear of light.

I stopped the flow of Essence the moment the staff stretched longer than the castle’s width. My arms tensed and thickened, adapting instinctively to the sudden increase in weight. Muscles bulged, my bones braced, and I let out a roar as I swung it down with everything I had.

“Blitz Hakai!”

The air cracked apart as the staff tore through the sky. It pierced the mist still hanging from my earlier strike and slammed into the floating castle with a thunderous crash.

BOOM!!

A massive explosion of Essence erupted from the point of impact. The shockwave rippled through the air as the castle split cleanly in two, the strike cleaving it from top to bottom.

The clouds beneath were the first to scatter, torn apart by the force. The two halves of the castle hung in the air for a moment—then began to fall apart.

Chunks of mist created stone and blackened towers tumbled downward as the Deathmist bled from the structure like thick smoke, dropping in huge chunks toward the earth below.

“Deactivate,” I muttered.

With that, I ended Node 3. The strain on my body eased, and I retracted the Essence from the staff, letting it shrink back to its normal size. I floated in silence, watching the ruined castle collapse into the clouds beneath.

Azalea drifted over beside me.

“That’s a dangerous weapon you’ve got there,” she said, eyeing the staff.

I gave a low chuckle, still catching my breath.

“You’re not wrong.”

I pushed my Essence channels into overdrive, drawing in the scattered energy particles left behind from my last attack.

My body greedily absorbed them, working to recover the Essence I had spent. Bit by bit, the Essence flowed back into me, easing the strain.

At the same time, I expanded my perception, letting it stretch outward to wrap around the entire crumbling castle. Every falling piece, every shift in the Deathmist—I felt it all.

And then I found it.

The Phantom.

But what I saw caught me completely off guard.

I turned to glance at Azalea floating beside me, then looked back at the collapsing castle with a furrowed brow.

Amid the destruction, sitting calmly on a throne carved from swirling Deathmist, was the Phantom. It was a creature made entirely of that same black mist—featureless except for a pair of glowing red eyes that pierced through the smoke. Yet, somehow, even without a face, I recognized it.

It looked just like Azalea.

Same height. Same build. Same long hair drifting around its head like it was underwater. Even the way it sat—straight-backed and proud—matched her exactly.

It didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared forward in complete silence, letting the castle crumble around it.

Then came another explosion. Two of Azalea’s spears slammed into what remained of the castle’s defenses, ripping through stone and Deathmist alike. The blast tore away another massive chunk of the structure, and still the Phantom didn’t react.

Not until a few seconds later.

At last, it stirred. Slowly, it rose from the throne and stepped down the crumbling staircase. The mist swirled tighter around it as it moved, like it was drawing in power with every step.

Then it raised its right hand, and a sword appeared in its grip—a dark, misty blade about four feet long. Its body shimmered as more of the thick Deathmist coiled around it, forming a suit of armor that covered everything except the face. Its hair, still made of drifting mist, waved with a strange, ghostly grace.

It was like staring at another Azalea. A twin pulled from the shadows. Built from mist. Cold and silent.

The Phantom lifted its right arm high, then brought the sword slashing down through the air.

A wave of Deathmist erupted from the blade, cutting clean through the lingering fog and finally clearing the space between us. Now, there was nothing hiding it. Nothing blocking our view.

Azalea muttered beside me, her voice low with disbelief.

“Seriously?”

The Phantom took another slow step forward, then lifted off the crumbling castle floor and began floating upward toward us.

Its movements were smooth, weightless, like drifting smoke. It stopped only when it reached our height, hovering a short distance away. Below, the remains of the castle continued to collapse into the clouds.

We hovered there in silence—Azalea, the Phantom, and I—suspended in the sky, with the storm of destruction beneath us. The air was heavy with tension, the kind that presses down on your skin and makes your heartbeat louder than your thoughts.

Then it happened.

I felt a jolt in my core—a sudden tremor, as if something inside me had awakened. A presence shot out from within my body, powerful and sharp, like the moment before lightning strikes. My Psynapse flared. I didn’t need to be told what was coming. I already knew.

The Phantom twitched.

Then all of its calm, graceful poise shattered in an instant. It let out a high, distorted scream—raw and unhinged—and darted toward me. One second it was hovering, and the next, it was right in front of me. The speed was unreal.

Its sword came down toward my head in a sharp, merciless arc.

I managed to track the motion. I stepped back just in time, letting the blade slice down past my face—but there was more. As the sword cleaved through the air, it unleashed a wind blade. I didn’t see it—I felt it.

WHUMP.

It struck me right across the chest with brutal force.

Whooooshh—

The wind was knocked out of me as my body flew backward. Blood spurted from the fresh gash in my chest. I spun uncontrollably through the sky, limbs flailing.

I gritted my teeth, flapped my wings hard, and forced myself to stop mid-air. I hovered, chest heaving, blood dripping down my clothes, and eyes locked on the Phantom.

But it didn’t give me a second.

It appeared right beside me, silent and sudden, and swung its sword again—this time aimed straight at my neck.

I reacted on instinct.

I raised my staff, already coated in a dense layer of Essence, and caught the blade with a solid clang. There was no time to think—just act. The moment our weapons clashed, an explosion burst out between us as Essence and Deathmist collided violently.

BOOM!

The shockwave sent both of us flying backward. I steadied myself mid-air, boots skimming against the wind, as the smoke cleared.

My eyes narrowed.

The Phantom—this fake Azalea—was matching me. Not just in speed or strength. No. Stat for stat, it was holding its own against me.

This time, I took the initiative.

With a powerful flap of my wings, I shot forward, cutting through the air like a spear. In a blink, I was right in front of the Phantom. I thrust my staff straight at its chest, aiming to end the exchange before it could react.

But it did.

The Phantom raised its left hand, calm and smooth, and a swirling vortex of Deathmist formed between us. The mist twisted into a tight spiral, fast and dense. My staff struck it with a heavy bang, the force of the collision sending a shockwave through the air.

My eyes narrowed. I didn’t hesitate.

Essence surged through my arms and into the staff as I whispered under my breath, “[Havoc Sfera].”

The tip of the staff lit up with a sharp violet glow. Then, right at the point of contact with the vortex, a spinning sphere began to form—a dense orb of concentrated Essence, spinning faster and faster until the sound around it warped.

BOOM!!

The sphere exploded forward, tearing straight through the Deathmist vortex. A pure beam of Essence shot out like a cannon blast, slamming into the Phantom with violent force.

Its body was launched backward, limbs flailing, and before it could recover, Azalea was already there—arms outstretched, waiting.

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