My Talent's Name Is Generator

I exhaled slowly and linked myself with the world core. The process was smooth, almost natural this time.

In an instant, my senses expanded outward, and I could feel everything that lived and moved within Sukra. The pulse of its Essence, the flow of its skies, the shifting of its lands, all of it streamed into me like an endless river of awareness.

I filtered through the flood of information until I found what I wanted: the others. Just as I expected, they were having their kind of fun.

Ragnar and Lyrate were in the middle of chaos, each holding two unconscious grandmasters and still arguing over a third one who was trying to escape.

They weren't fighting the grandmasters anymore; they were fighting each other, as if the poor woman they chased was a trophy.

Knight, on the other hand, was far away on another continent, his black tendrils wrapped around three struggling grandmasters as he darted across the land like a storm.

Silver was even wilder, clashing with two grandmasters at once while clutching a third in his claws, his laughter echoing across the battlefield.

I couldn't help but grin. My focus shifted again until I found Dante, calm, composed, and moving through the emperor's palace like a shadow.

I scanned through the capital, letting my awareness sweep across every street, tower, and hall. The deeper I looked, the wider my smile grew.

There were twelve grandmasters gathered inside the city walls, including their emperor: [Odin Hatake – Level 293]. His aura was immense but still lacked the sharp pressure I had felt from the rulers of Peanu or Vaythos.

The others weren't much better, strong, yes, but not terrifying. Their control over Essence felt sloppy, stretched thin, like they had been powerful for too long without ever being challenged.

I brushed past them all. They weren't the reason I came here.

My perception kept moving, crossing seas and skies, leaping from continent to continent until it reached a land of eternal frost. The world there was white and silent.

In the middle of that frozen city, surrounded by tall ice towers, I sensed them, three distinct signatures, sharp and familiar, carrying that unmistakable Feran resonance.

A quiet chuckle escaped me, my fingers flexing with anticipation.

"Found you," I muttered.

I linked my consciousness with the world core once again, feeling the familiar surge of control spread through me. Then I bent the fabric of space between my location and the frozen continent, forming a corridor of folded layers.

The air trembled as I tore through it and stepped forward, three sharp jumps later, I emerged above the icy city.

From above, the city looked calm. Snow-covered streets glowed under the pale light, and only a few people wandered outside, bundled in thick fur, chatting idly or simply staring at the frozen sky. Everyone else stayed indoors, their faint life signatures scattered behind walls of ice and stone.

My eyes locked onto one particular building, a three-storied house standing at the edge of a silent street. That was where the Ferans were. Each of them occupied a different floor.

My perception expanded, filling the entire city in an instant. With a single step, I vanished and appeared on the roof of the house, silent as air.

I suppressed everything, my aura, talent, will, even the faint pulse of Essence inside my channels. Nothing leaked out.

The first Feran, on the ground floor, was sleeping soundly, broad shoulders, striped skin, and that distinct aura of the Tiger tribe.

The second, on the first floor, was meditating, his Essence circulating steadily through his body. Another Tiger tribesman.

And the third, sitting on the top floor, was reading a book titled 'Tonight We Do It Again.'

I blinked, a small sigh escaping me. "Tiger tribe again… huh."

It looked like they were the ones tangled up in this whole mess.

I ignored that thought for now and reached inward, calling upon my law of Froststorm.

Violet Essence surged through my channels, humming like a storm restrained beneath my skin. The natural Essence around me,cold, heavy, and abundant in this frozen land, answered immediately. The temperature dropped in an instant, frost crawling across the rooftop beneath my feet.

I took a slow step forward.

Before anyone inside could even blink, the entire building froze solid. The air cracked with the sound of expanding ice, and in the blink of an eye, a thick crystal block now stood where the house once was.

I landed lightly on the ground, the wind scattering snow around me as I walked toward it. My boots crunched against the frost-coated street.

The building was silent now, frozen in both sound and motion.

I stopped at the door or rather, what was once a door and lifted a finger. A thin ripple of Essence pulsed at my fingertip before I tapped.

Crack.

A spiderweb of fractures spread across the frozen frame, light refracting through the crystal lines. The ice shattered silently, and I stepped through the opening, entering the still, frozen interior.

I moved through the frozen hallway, boots whispering on glassy ice. The first floor lay ahead in blue shadows. I could see him Karo.

I reached out and tapped the ice on his cheek which dissolved the ice. The skin underneath was pale and stinging, but he woke instantly, eyes snapping open. He growled low in his throat, a sound that held equal parts anger and surprise.

I took a single step forward and slapped him hard across the face. The crack of the hit echoed in the frozen room. Two of his teeth flew from his mouth and skittered across the floor like small white stones.

He stared at the gap where his teeth had been, shock washing over him before rage flared back. Blood mixed with the frost on his lips. For a heartbeat he looked ready to attack, claws flexing, muscles coiling.

I leaned close, letting my voice drop so only he could hear. "Try that again," I said, steady and cold, "and you'll be the one flying away."

His nostrils flared. He spat a curse in his tongue, then froze, measuring me with a new light in his eyes,fear threaded through the fury. He swallowed, every movement slow, and for the moment at least, he kept his hands to himself.