My Talent's Name Is Generator

Finished with the bones, I finally let my focus drift back to the notifications echoing in my head.

[Minor Law of Time – Level 1]

[Level Up]

[Minor Law of Time – Level 2]

[Level Up]

[Minor Law of Time – Level 3]

[Level Up]

[Minor Law of Time – Level 4]

The glowing text faded, leaving a faint ringing in my mind. I couldn't help but smile.

"I'll need to create some new skills," I muttered to myself. "And upgrade the old ones while I'm at it."

Raising my hand, I commanded the bones.

They floated up from the air around me, spinning slowly as faint ripples of time flickered across their surface.

With a flick of my wrist, they shot downward, smashing into the ruined cemetery.

Each piece buried itself into the shattered ground with a sharp crack, scattering faint waves of temporal energy. To anyone sensitive enough, they would seem like whispers of time calling out from the rubble.

I stepped once and reappeared atop the castle wall, where Knight still stood.

Looking at him, I said, "So I'm assuming the demon is fast. That must be why Roland chose him. I'll leave him to you. If he's smart enough to sense the bones himself, that's good. If not…" I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Just make sure he finds them."

Knight gave a low hum in response.

I stretched my perception outward, letting it sweep through the tunnel beyond the flame wall and across the whole Lamp Fort. I was waiting for Roland and his new hire to arrive.

Beside me, Lyrate muttered under her breath. "Again, no fight for me."

I chuckled softly. "Don't worry. All of you will get your fights. Most likely today itself."

She didn't reply right away. After a moment of silence, she simply flashed back to her throne, clearly uninterested in waiting on the wall.

I stayed where I was with Silver and Knight, watching over the fort. Ragnar still sat in the middle of the ruined cemetery, his eyes closed, posture steady, like some silent monk lost in meditation. The air around him didn't even stir.

Then, the teleportation circle deep in the fort flared to life. Three figures appeared in the light—Roland, Primus, and Lara.

But this time, the girl wasn't with her father. Roland held her hand, keeping her close as she walked beside him. A faint smile played on his lips, but his grip was tight, controlling.

The three of them crossed the fort grounds and stopped in front of the staff. Primus crouched, reaching out to touch the staff. His fingers traced the runes etched across its length, his eyes narrowing with focus as he studied it.

Roland spoke sharply. "I'll explain one more time. Do not fight. They're too strong, they'll crush you like a bug. Just run in, grab anything that looks precious, and get out."

Primus straightened and gave a small nod. "I understand. If something can make you tremble like this, then it must be the real deal."

Roland scoffed, though his lips tightened. "Just make it fast. I'll keep a watch on Lara."

Primus turned toward his daughter. For a moment, the cold, dangerous look in his eyes softened. He bent slightly, meeting her gaze. "I'll be back soon, alright? Then we'll go back to our home."

"Yes, Father," Lara said, her small voice steady despite the chains of the moment. "I'll wait for you."

Primus smiled faintly and gave her a firm nod before turning back toward the path through the flames.

From the castle wall, I lifted my hand, subtly bending Essence and space to blur my presence. My figure dimmed, like a shadow fading into the stone, as I continued to watch.

Primus threw off the cloak he'd been wearing. Now he stood bare-chested, only in his pants.

The faint flames dancing across his body grew brighter, hotter, bursting like sparks from an engine revving up. The tattoos across his skin pulsed with crimson glow, and even the horns on his forehead shimmered red, glowing hotter with every breath he took.

He bent forward slightly, muscles coiled tight, fire erupting around him in short bursts. Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished into the flames.

The moment Primus vanished, the flames rippled like water struck by a stone. I extended my perception to follow him.

He was fast, much faster than I expected. His body flickered between fire and flesh, a blur tearing through the air.

One heartbeat he was solid, the next a streak of flame slipping past the resistance of the tunnel. Each shift let him break through the drag of space itself, making him cut forward like a burning arrow.

His speed wasn't elegant, but it was raw, explosive. Every flicker carried him several steps ahead, leaving only afterimages of fire twisting in the air behind. I could almost feel the ground itself groan under the pressure of his bursts.

In less than a breath, he cleared the flame wall and crossed into the Lamp Castle grounds. His instincts were sharp, too sharp. The instant he entered the cemetery, he adjusted his path, skirting wide instead of charging through the center. He didn't dare go near Ragnar.

I watched as his figure darted around broken graves and collapsed stone, his flames dimming slightly as he suppressed his presence. Even with chains in his past and exhaustion written in his body, his movements were that of a predator who knew how to survive.

"Smart," I thought, lips curling faintly.

He didn't stop to think, didn't pause to measure his surroundings. He ran straight toward the deeper ruins, searching for what Roland wanted him to find, treasure.

But maybe he wasn't that smart after all. He completely ignored the scattered graves and the bones I had laid out and rushed straight for the castle wall.

From his movements, I understood, he was planning to break into the castle itself, hoping the treasure was hidden inside.

Unfortunately for him, there was nothing for him to find there, and more importantly, I couldn't allow him to cross those walls.

I narrowed my eyes, locked my perception onto his blurring figure, and raised my hand.

In the blink of an eye, Primus's body jerked as though he had slammed into an invisible barrier. His fiery form flickered, snapping back into solid flesh mid-stride. His crimson eyes widened in shock a second before his body was hurled backward.

He smashed through broken stone and shattered graves, tumbling across the cemetery before finally skidding to a stop near the ruined wall. Dust and bone fragments rained around him.

But the demon didn't stay down.

The instant his body stilled, he roared low in his throat, his frame blurring again. Fire burst from his skin as he shifted back into that flickering state, and before the dust had even settled, he launched forward once more, faster, sharper, like a beast refusing to be caged.