My Talent's Name Is Generator

Lyrate chased after another man through the trees. He didn't turn to fight like the others. Maybe he was smart enough to know he was the weakest among them. But it didn't matter. His ending was the same.

She flowed behind him like a ghost, her body made of crimson mist. In seconds, the mist wrapped around him, spinning into a tight cyclone. Before he could even scream, the cyclone shifted direction and rushed away—leaving behind a clean pile of body parts. Arms, legs, and his head all stacked neatly, like someone had arranged them on purpose.

Lyrate reformed beside the pieces. Her feet touched the forest floor, but she stayed still. She didn't chase after anyone this time.

Her sword dissolved into the mist, and she brought her hands together, fingers curled in a quiet gesture—almost like a prayer. Her long red hair floated gently around her, glowing softly in the moonlight.

Then the mist around her stirred.

Three tendrils burst from her back. Long, whip-like, and alive—each made of the same thick crimson mist. They looked like tentacles, but moved more like roots, writhing and pulsing with power.

The tentacles slammed into the ground. Dirt exploded as they burrowed underground, disappearing in three different directions toward the running men.

One of them tripped over a root. Another looked back just once and made the mistake of slowing down. The third tried jumping up into the trees to escape.

It didn't work.

The ground beneath each of them cracked open, and the tentacles burst out. Each one grabbed a man around the waist, coiling tight like a snake. The air filled with screams and panicked shouts, but the tentacles were already dragging them back—pulling them through the forest floor like sacks of meat, crashing them into trees and boulders.

They fought, of course. One blasted a fireball. Another tried cutting the tentacle with his blade. But it was useless. Their attacks passed through the mist, and the tentacles just healed themselves as they pulled the men in.

Lyrate stood waiting.

The moment they reached her, the mist holding them flared bright, and all three men were slammed to the ground before her. Their weapons clattered away. They were still alive. Groaning, bleeding, faces pale with terror.

The tentacles dispersed into the mist and then she moved.

Her sword reformed in her hand as smoothly as breath. A single flash later, their screams were cut short.

Another three piles of neatly cut body parts lay behind Lyrate, blood pooling across the forest floor like ink spreading on paper.

I shook my head.

"No need to be that violent," I muttered.

She turned her head slowly, her glowing eyes locking onto the only two survivors—Bruno and Grey. They had both run far from her, trying to escape. I watched as they moved through the trees, almost at the edge of the mountain range.

And I decided to help.

With a quick mental command, I told Lyrate to go after Bruno. I'd take care of Grey myself.

I took a deep breath and then launched off the peak.

The bang from my launch echoed across the forest. My wings flared out behind me as I shot through the night sky like a missile. The wind howled past my ears, but I was already above Grey in an instant. The fool was still sprinting blindly through the trees, unaware of what was coming.

I grinned.

And dropped.

My body crashed into the ground right in front of him.

BOOM!

The earth split under my feet. A small crater formed where I landed. Dust and debris filled the air, swirling around us.

I straightened up slowly and stretched my shoulders.

"Long time no see, Grey."

With a wave of my hand, the dust cleared. We faced each other, eye to eye.

His face froze. His eyes went wide. He stumbled back a step, stunned.

I smiled and stared directly into his eyes.

"I hope you didn't forget me."

Grey was the one who had first come to escort or more accurately, kidnap us to this realm. He was close to Huge and King's cousin, too. That smug confidence he used to carry, it wasn't there anymore. Now, there was only fear, confusion, and growing anger.

His face shifted between emotions, until it settled into a scowl.

He growled, "Was this all your doing? Do you understand what you've done? This is war against the Holt family."

I nodded slowly, amused by how formal he still sounded.

Then I clapped. "Wow. I must say, you really know how to talk out of your ass."

His expression darkened.

"Kid," he spat through gritted teeth, "looks like living in the woods made you crazy."

I tilted my head, pretending to think about it.

"Crazy…" I shrugged. "Maybe. Doesn't matter. I'm here to take you, just like you took me back then."

He chuckled coldly and spat on the ground.

"I'll kill you—"

I didn't let him finish.

I exploded forward, my body closing the distance in a flash. The level gap between us was small now. Too small. He used to look down on me. Now, I could toss him around like a ragdoll.

And I did.

I ducked low and slammed my fist into his gut.

BANG!

His body flew back like a broken arrow, crashing through trees, dirt flying everywhere. I chased after him in a blur.

The moment his body hit the ground and stopped, I was already beside him.

My hand closed around his head.

With a snarl, I lifted him up and slammed him into the ground.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"Where's that Holt pride now?" I roared.

His limbs flopped. Blood leaked from his mouth, nose, and ears. Bones cracked.

He groaned weakly, trying to rise.

I placed my foot on his chest and pushed him down again.

"Nope," I whispered.

Then I pulled my fist back and slammed it into his face.

Once. Teeth flew.

Twice. His nose broke.

Three times. His face started swelling like dough under pressure.

Four. Five. Six.

I didn't stop until his face looked like a bruised fruit.

Finally, I stood up. My breath was steady, though my knuckles dripped with blood.

I looked down at Grey.

"The end is near, Grey," I said softly.

His swollen eyes cracked open. He looked like he wanted to speak, but the words never came. His head tilted to the side, and he passed out.

Suddenly, I raised an eyebrow and jumped back.

BOOM!!

Bruno's massive body came crashing down from the sky like a falling meteor and slammed into Grey, forming a wide crater beneath them. The ground cracked. Trees shook. Dirt flew up like an explosion.

I blinked.

Lyrate appeared on the other side of the crater, stepping out of the crimson mist like death herself.

Her glowing eyes met mine.

We didn't say a word.

I looked down at Bruno. The man was unrecognizable. His arms were completely gone. His chest was sunken, bones cracked inwards. His once heavy armor was torn like paper, and his face was swollen beyond belief. He wasn't dead but he was far from alive.

I could feel it—his breathing was weak, barely there.

Then I looked back at Lyrate.

She didn't speak. Just stood there, silent, emotionless, her mist gently swirling around her like a living shroud.

But her message was clear.

She was telling me: I'm better at this than you.

I chuckled under my breath.

"Show off," I muttered, and shook my head.

I was glad this crazy woman was on my side.