My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 729: Runic Inscription

The upper levels of the tower were nothing like the depths below.

Where the lower floors had been heavy, suffocating, and crushing, the upper structure felt sharp and alert, like a watchful mind that had not yet realized its heart was already dead. Corridors branched endlessly and open void gaps that looked out into the war-torn sky beyond the core layer.

Steve moved at the front, sword resting casually on his shoulder as if this were a stroll instead of an enemy stronghold.

“So,” he said while turning a corner at full speed, “anyone want to bet on how long before we accidentally blow up something important?”

Mazikeen snorted. “You already are something important. Unfortunately.”

Knight said nothing. His body flashed in and out of various chambers trying to locate the runic inscription and instructions for the anchors.

They were not sneaking around.

They were hunting.

Phantoms emerged from the corridors. The first one barely finished arriving before Steve moved.

Lightning snapped along his blade as he stepped forward and slashed.

The phantom split cleanly down the middle, its body unraveling into black mist before hitting the ground.

“Still warm,” Steve muttered. “Anyone else?”

Three more rushed in. Grandmasters.

Mazikeen laughed.

Fire exploded from her palm, compressed and vicious. The flames curved as if alive, biting into one phantom’s torso and burning straight through it. She spun, horned silhouette cutting through the air, and slammed her elbow into another phantom’s face. Fire surged from the impact, turning its head into ash.

The third never reached them.

Knight appeared behind it.

His claws passed through its chest, shadows swallowing the phantom whole before it could even react. He vanished again.

Steve whistled. “You know, for someone who doesn’t talk much, you’re really rude.”

Knight’s tail flicked once before he answered, voice calm and even. “Babysitting requires patience. I am practicing.”

Steve placed a hand over his chest dramatically. “Ouch. That hurts.” He grinned a second later. “Then again, maybe that’s why I keep getting these insane quests. Isn’t it because I’m always sticking around your husband?”

Knight paused mid-step.

Mazikeen stopped as well, both of them turning their heads at the same time.

“Husband?” Mazikeen repeated.

“Yeah,” Steve said casually. “He stick to Billion like his shadow.”

For a moment, Knight said nothing. Then he shook his head once, slow and deliberate, as if deciding this conversation was beneath his attention. His body dissolved into shadows and vanished without another word.

Mazikeen clicked her tongue and smacked Steve lightly on the back of the head. “Focus, idiot. If we get buried in this tower, I’m blaming you.”

Steve laughed, rubbing his head as he followed after them.

They moved on.

Floor after floor blurred past as they searched. Storage halls filled with broken constructs. Observation rooms shattered by earlier shockwaves. Command chambers that had already been abandoned. Whatever they were looking for was not meant to be easily found.

“This tower’s thinking,” Mazikeen said quietly as she burned another phantom out of existence. “It’s redirecting us.”

Steve glanced around. “Great. I hate smart buildings.”

They reached a corridor that felt wrong.

The air was colder. Still. The Essence flow here was smooth to the point of artificiality, like a calm surface hiding something deep underneath.

Knight stopped first.

He raised a claw slightly.

“There,” Steve said, nodding. “See? Even the quiet one agrees.”

Mazikeen stepped forward and placed her hand against the wall.

Runes flared faintly, reacting to her presence.

Her eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t storage,” she said. “It’s memory containment.”

Steve blinked. “That sounds… expensive.”

They pushed through.

The chamber beyond was circular, sealed on all sides by translucent barriers of layered laws. Floating at its center were dozens of crystals, each one faceted and glowing faintly from within. Images flickered inside them. Symbols. Patterns. Runes folding into runes.

Mazikeen sucked in a breath.

“Memory crystals,” she said immediately. “High-grade.”

Steve stepped closer, curiosity winning over caution. He reached out and touched one.

The moment his fingers made contact, his body stiffened.

A notification flashed across his vision.

He grinned.

“Oh,” he said slowly. “Yeah. This is it.”

Mazikeen turned sharply. “You’re sure?”

Steve nodded and pulled his hand back. “Instructions. Procedures. Implantation methods. Safeguards. Countermeasures. It’s all in there.”

Knight shifted closer, shadows tightening around the chamber.

Steve opened his storage ring and swept his hand through the air.

The crystals vanished one by one, pulled cleanly into the ring.

The chamber reacted instantly.

Alarms screamed without sound. Runes flared red. Space twisted.

“Time to go,” Steve said cheerfully.

Deathmist beams fired from all around the room. Thick and heavy. Phantom partition stepped out one by one. Puppets.

Mazikeen stepped forward, fire roaring around her as she met the first wave head-on. Flames tore through phantom ranks, but more replaced them instantly.

Steve moved beside her, sword blazing with lightning as he cut paths through the enemy, his strikes clean and efficient. Each swing carried intent, lightning and shadow weaving together as he adapted to the flow of battle.

Knight disappeared entirely.

Phantoms began falling apart from the inside, shadows erupting from their cores as he struck again and again, never in the same place twice. The battlefield tilted in their favor instantly.

Still, the tower fought back.

The ceiling cracked. Gravity shifted. Entire sections of the corridor folded inward.

Mazikeen snarled and unleashed a wave of fire so intense it melted the floor into glowing slag, clearing space around them.

“Steve,” she shouted. “If you’re done shopping—”

“Already paid,” Steve replied, flashing her a grin.

Knight appeared between them.

“Exit,” he said simply.

They moved.

Knight tore open a shadow fold, space bending just enough for them to slip through. The chamber behind them collapsed as sealing laws failed, crushing phantoms and memory constructs alike.

They emerged onto an open platform near the top of the tower, the void stretching wide beyond it. Below them, the war still raged, but something had changed.

The tower was dying.

Steve looked at the storage ring and exhaled.

“Quest complete,” he said quietly.

Mazikeen glanced at him. “Kids these days.”

He smiled anyway.

“Worth it.”

Knight turned toward the edge, already preparing to move.

Steve followed, sword resting on his shoulder once more.

“Hey,” he said as they stepped into the shadows. “Next time, I won’t allow you to babysit.”

Mazikeen laughed as the tower trembled behind them.