My Talent's Name Is Generator - Chapter 690
Capítulo 690: Involvement
“Does this happen across all rifts?” I asked.
Dravon nodded. “Yes. Not just Grade 4, Grade 3 rifts show the same pattern. It’s as if they want to maintain the stalemate. For people like me, the reasons are unclear. We can only speculate. But I’m certain the Council knows.”
I nodded slowly.
Dravon’s gaze shifted, moving over all of us. “So… does your organization only have five members?”
“We have more,” I replied evenly. “They’ll arrive later.”
It was a lie, but a necessary one. There was no reason to reveal the my summoning capabilities.
“Oh?” Dravon said, mildly surprised. “Do you want me to assign someone here to receive them?”
“No,” I answered. “That won’t be necessary. We have our own methods.”
He didn’t press the issue. Instead, I asked, “Who’s leading the demon forces at this rift?”
Dravon’s expression sharpened slightly. “One of my relatives. Saleos Emberlord. He’s strong, disciplined, and capable. He’s already an Upper-Transcendent.”
Upper-Transcendent referred to anyone who crossed the 400th level threshold.
I nodded and stepped slightly to the side.
“Before we move on,” I said, “let me introduce my people properly.”
I gestured toward Primus first. “You already know Primus.”
Then toward Aurora. “And you’ve met Aurora as well.”
I turned to the two standing behind me. “This is Steve Harper and North Winter.”
Steve was exactly waiting for this moment, he stepped forward with a grin, took her hand smoothly, and brought it to his lips.
“It is my pleasure,” he said warmly. “Steve Harper. You make this void look far less empty.”
Mazikeen froze for half a second, clearly caught off guard. She blinked, confusion flickering across her face.
North let out a quiet sigh. Aurora laughed openly.
Steve, completely unfazed, straightened and continued as if nothing unusual had happened.
“I’ve heard about your strength from Aurora. You’re an inspiration to a Grandmaster like me. I enjoy battle quite a bit, if you don’t mind, maybe we can exchange a few pointers sometime.”
Mazikeen composed herself quickly, her expression settling back into calm professionalism. “Yes. We can do that.”
Steve’s grin widened. “Then I’ll be waiting.”
With that, he stepped back into place, looking entirely satisfied with himself.
I ignored the exchange, keeping my expression neutral, and turned to Dravon. “So how do we join the fight? Is there a procedure?”
Dravon hummed thoughtfully and began pacing. “There is. Mercenary organizations, training groups, even independent forces from other races, are allowed to participate for limited periods. Usually, they’re assigned under a commander and integrated into an existing unit.”
He stopped and looked at me, then at Aurora. “But you’re too strong to be placed under someone else.”
“I’d suggest letting us operate as an independent unit,” Aurora said immediately.
I nodded.
“Think of us as a specialized force. Like I said earlier, I want this rift to be the starting point of our reputation. That won’t happen if we’re restrained by battlefield protocols. We need freedom let loose.”
Dravon listened without interrupting. After a moment, he shook his head. “I can request independent status. That much is possible. But ‘letting loose’ that’s beyond my authority.”
His tone grew firmer. “This is a do-or-die battlefield. Everyone has a role. Orders come from Demon Headquarters. The only one who can adjust them is Commander Saleos and he’s strict. He won’t tolerate interference.”
“Then we replace him,” Aurora said casually and looked at me. “We replace him, and you take his place, boss.”
Dravon stared at Aurora for a long moment, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and concern. It was clear he couldn’t tell whether she was joking, serious, or simply testing how far she could push him.
“Replace him how?” Steve asked.
Aurora answered by casually drawing a finger across her throat, her expression completely relaxed, as if she were suggesting a change of seating arrangements rather than murder.
Steve blinked once, then let out a short laugh. “Wouldn’t that make us enemies of the demons?” He shrugged. “Not that I have a problem with that. Just pointing out the obvious.”
Dravon’s gaze moved slowly from Aurora to Steve, and finally to me. There was no hiding it anymore, he was very clearly wondering if aligning himself with us had been the biggest mistake of his long career.
“They’re messing with you,” I said, exhaling to ease the tension. “Mostly.”
I took a step forward. “But the truth is, we do need your commander on our side. Either that… or I enter the battlefield uninvited and start attacking the enemy forces directly.”
“Uninvited?” Dravon repeated.
For a moment, he almost looked tempted by the idea. Then he shook his head firmly. “That sounds good in theory, but it won’t work in practice.”
He raised one hand, counting on his fingers. “First, our forces are almost always engaged. If you charge in without coordination, you’ll hurt our allies as much as the enemy. Friendly fire in a void battlefield is not something you can simply shrug off.”
He lifted a second finger. “Second and this is far more important, if your goal is to close the rift, brute force and chaos won’t get you there. You need a planned strike. A surprise for the Eternals, not for us.”
Dravon let out a slow breath, his voice lowering. “I told you earlier. Even when we sent Saints as surprise forces, the Eternals were ready. They always responded with an equal presence. Every single time.”
His eyes hardened. “It’s been at least two decades since the demons successfully closed a rift. Two decades of constant loss. This isn’t an easy battlefield, no matter how strong you are.”
He looked at me directly. “And no offense but you’re not a Saint. That means we need planning. Precision. Cooperation.”
The words settled heavily in the room. Which was when North spoke.
“How about we kidnap him?”
Every head turned toward her.
Dravon coughed awkwardly. “That… won’t work.”
“We can kidnap him,” North said calmly, her tone steady and practical. “After that, we convince him.”
Dravon stared at her. “Convince him how?”
Instead of answering, North asked her own question. “How long has he been in charge of this rift?”
Dravon hesitated. “The commander before him died on the battlefield. Saleos took over after that. He’s been in charge for a very long time.”
North nodded slowly. “That’s good.”
Dravon frowned. “Good?”
“Yes,” she continued. “That means he’s seen the cost. The losses. The stalemate. He knows exactly how much the demons are bleeding to keep this rift contained.”
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!