My Talent's Name Is Generator
Chapter 278: The Attack Is Still Ongoing

Chapter 278: The Attack Is Still Ongoing

Azalea stretched both arms forward, her palms facing the incoming Phantom. Her expression was cold, focused, and her voice came out in a low murmur.

“Black Thorn.”

The air in front of her shimmered, warping like heat on metal. Then, without warning, a massive black thorn burst into existence right in front of her hands. It was jagged, twisted, made from wood and almost as large as the Phantom itself.

The thorn shot forward like a spear.

It slammed into the Phantom’s back with a loud crack, halting its motion in mid-air for a split second—then launching it forward again with even more force, as if it had been punted straight out of the sky.

I didn’t wait.

I spun my staff once in my hand, tightened my grip, and charged after it, aiming to strike it again before it could recover. But just as I closed the distance, the Phantom’s body began to unravel.

Right before my eyes, it dispersed into thick strands of Deathmist, slipping through my strike like smoke.

It plunged toward the ground as a swirling mass of black mist.

The Phantom slammed into the earth below like a crashing wave. The force of the impact shook the sky itself. Then something strange happened. The Deathmist didn’t just settle—it surged outward, like water pouring from a broken dam.

It pulled in the leftover mist from the castle’s destruction—the haze still clinging to the sky, the vaporized bodies of the army we had just slaughtered—and all of it rushed toward the ground. The crumbling ruins of the castle, still falling apart, gave off trails of mist that also got swept into the storm below.

Then the churning mass began to rise.

The mist twisted, turned, and took shape—bigger and darker than ever before. It started with two enormous legs forming from the swirling fog. Then the torso rose, and finally, a massive head crowned with wild hair made of twisting shadows.

It still held the shape of a woman.

In one of its hands was a massive sword. The Deathmist had become so dense, so black, that it looked less like mist and more like a hole in the world—a silhouette cut from the void itself.

It stood nearly fifty meters tall, towering over the battlefield like a living nightmare.

My grip on the staff tightened.

“I guess I know now how it created the finger,” I muttered, eyes locked on the towering figure ahead.

Azalea floated closer, her voice calm but firm. “As I said, it has evolved. Its grasp over the Law of Creation has grown even further.”

I gave her a short nod, already thinking through my options. The situation had changed, and fast.

But we didn’t get time to plan.

The giant Phantom raised its massive sword and swung it at us with terrifying speed. The blade tore through the sky, cleaving the air apart. Waves of Deathmist spiraled off it in all directions, turning the swing into a tidal wave of destruction.

Essence rushed into my wings as I activated [Seismic Burst]. With a loud crack, I launched myself straight upward, narrowly dodging the slash.

Azalea dove below the blade, her timing perfect—but the Phantom wasn’t done. With its other hand, it hurled a swirling black sphere right at her.

The sphere looked like a meteor—dark, dense, and blazing through the sky with extreme force. Before she could dodge, it smashed into her.

Azalea was sent flying like a ragdoll, streaking through the air before crashing into the ground with a deafening impact. The sphere didn’t stop—it latched onto her, then began to unravel.

Chains made of thick Deathmist burst out from it, wrapping around her limbs, her waist, her neck—locking her in place.

Then the Phantom screamed.

The sound split the sky and hammered into my eardrums. My head throbbed from the sheer pressure of it.

And then I saw it.

Azalea’s body was rising—lifted into the air by invisible force, dragged straight toward the giant Phantom’s head.

Her voice came out fast and sharp.

“It’s trying to consume my soul!”

“Fuck!” I yelled.

Without another thought, I shot toward her, Essence flaring behind me.

I took a deep breath and focused my mind.

One of my Psynapse fractures lit up, locking onto the Phantom’s pull on Azalea. I forced it into a casting state and activated a skill.

“[Space Lock].”

The air around Azalea shimmered, and space itself seemed to freeze. The pull dragging her toward the Phantom stopped instantly, like she’d been trapped inside an invisible cage. Her body floated mid-air, unmoving but safe—for now.

At the same time, my other Psynapse fracture focused inward, on my body.

I activated Node 2.

The second glowing rune lit up across my spine, and I felt a fresh wave of power surge through me. My muscles tightened, senses sharpened, and my strength multiplied.

I gripped my staff firmly, holding it at the center. My body twisted, essence surging into my right arm as I pulled it back, like a javelin thrower preparing to strike.

I locked my eyes on the Phantom’s head.

Then, with a roar, I hurled the staff.

BOOM!!

It tore through the sky, leaving a sonic boom in its wake. The force cracked the air behind it, and in the next instant—

BOOM!!

The staff smashed into the side of the Phantom’s head. The impact was brutal. Deathmist burst outward like an explosion, flames of black mist curling around its face as if its entire head had caught fire.

I didn’t waste time.

I raced down toward Azalea, stopping beside her just as the mist chains were starting to tighten again. I placed my hand on them and channeled Essence straight into their structure.

The chains hissed, trembled, and then snapped apart, the mist dissolving under my will.

I turned to her and spoke quickly.

“You need to be more careful from now on. Just focus on support—I’ll handle the front.”

She gave a quick nod.

I raised my hand, fingers open.

A second later, my staff flew back through the air, cutting a clean path before landing neatly in my palm with a solid thunk.

I turned my gaze back to the Phantom.

“Deactivate.”

The Phantom let out another guttural screech, and I felt the air shift violently. Its massive arm pulled back again, and from its open palm, another black sphere began to form—dense, swirling, and full of pressure like a collapsing star.

But it didn’t stop at one.

The giant’s entire arm began pulsing, and within seconds, dozens of those Deathmist orbs formed—each one glowing like a dark meteor. With a snarl, the Phantom flung them all at once, a storm of black comets streaking through the sky, each one aimed directly at us.

“Watch out!” I shouted.

Essence flared through my veins. I brought my staff forward and pointed it at the incoming orbs. One by one, I blasted the incoming orbs, each strike firing a compressed violet sphere of Essence. The sky lit up with constant flashes—Essence beams colliding with Deathmist, explosions ringing out with every impact.

Azalea defended herself too.

She summoned a ring of spears around her with a single motion—sleek, black-tipped weapons formed of wood thrumming with life force. With a wave, she launched them forward like a volley of arrows. They collided with the incoming meteor-balls, detonating them mid-air in bursts of shadow and wind.

We moved in sync, defending the sky. The last orb exploded right before reaching Azalea, vaporized by a clean strike from my staff.

But just as I exhaled, my perception flickered.

The Phantom’s massive fist came swooping down from above like a hammer. I looked up—its fist stretched wide, casting a massive shadow over me.

Before I could react, the hand struck me full-force.

CRACK!

My body flew downward like a falling star, the world spinning as I crashed into the earth below.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!