My Talent’s Name Is Generator - Chapter 1157
Chapter 1157: The Goruns
The ancient doorway closed behind us with a dull rumble that echoed across the barren wasteland.
The library disappeared without the slightest trace, replaced by a sky the color of dying ash. Dark clouds hung low above us, swirling endlessly around a crimson sun that seemed far too close to the world below. The air carried the scent of scorched earth and old blood, while violent winds swept across an endless plain littered with shattered mountains, dried riverbeds and craters so immense that entire cities could have disappeared inside them.
This place had witnessed war. The land itself bore their scars.
Broken weapons larger than castles protruded from the earth like forgotten monuments, while enormous skeletons lay half buried beneath drifting sand, their species impossible to identify after the passage of so much time.
Nobody spoke.
“This…”
Gerald muttered quietly.
“…Isn’t natural.”
Before anyone could respond, the familiar sound of polished shoes echoed behind us.
Macaco stepped through the doorway carrying a small notebook tucked beneath one arm as though he were beginning another ordinary workday.
“Oh, excellent.”
He adjusted his spectacles before smiling broadly.
“Everyone arrived safely.”
He glanced around the wasteland with obvious satisfaction.
“I’ve always been rather fond of this trial.”
He casually climbed onto a nearby broken pillar, cleared his throat dramatically and spread both arms toward the endless horizon.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen…to the Second Trial.”
His smile somehow became even brighter.
“This trial bears a wonderfully uncomplicated name.”
He paused just long enough for everyone’s attention to settle upon him.
“Survival.”
The single word drifted across the battlefield before disappearing into the endless wind.
Macaco turned and pointed toward the distant horizon.
“Allow me to introduce your opponents.”
For several seconds nothing happened.
Then the earth trembled. At first the vibration was so faint it could easily have been mistaken for the wind.
It steadily grew stronger.
Pebbles danced across the cracked ground. Ancient weapons buried beneath the sand rattled against one another.
Finally…
The horizon darkened.
An army was approaching.
It stretched farther than the eye could follow, covering the wasteland from one end of the world to the other.
Bronze-skinned warriors marched in perfect silence, their movements so synchronized that they resembled a single living organism rather than countless individual soldiers.
Each stood between seven and ten feet tall, with broad shoulders, four powerful wings folded neatly against their backs and three eyes watching the world with terrifying stillness. Two resembled those of ordinary humanoids, while a third remained vertically embedded within the center of the forehead, glowing with pale white light.
Every warrior carried the same curved spear.
The same rectangular shield.
The same expressionless face.
Above the endless sea of soldiers drifted dozens of towering figures whose spiritual pressure instantly eclipsed everyone beneath them.
Saints.
My perception continued counting until it became meaningless.
There were simply too many. Macaco waited patiently until everyone had fully absorbed the sight before continuing.
“They are called the Goruns.”
He spoke their name with surprising respect.
“Long before your civilizations were born, they conquered one universe after another beneath banners that never once knew defeat. Kingdoms disappeared beneath their march. Entire species vanished before their armies, and for countless ages they believed themselves destined to rule every corner of existence.”
He paused, looking toward the silent army stretching beyond the horizon.
“That destiny never came to pass.”
His smile quietly returned.
“What stands before you today isn’t the Gorun Empire itself.”
He adjusted his spectacles.
“Only echoes.”
Nobody looked relieved. If these were merely echoes…
What had the real civilization been capable of?
Macaco quietly closed his notebook before tucking it beneath one arm. His cheerful smile never left his face as he looked across every member of the expedition.
“The Goruns aren’t your enemy,” he said calmly. “They’re simply the obstacle standing between you and the next trial. Whether you cut your way through them, evade them entirely, hide beneath the earth or spend the next twenty-four hours running for your lives is of absolutely no concern to me.”
His gaze swept toward the endless bronze army stretching across the horizon before returning to us.
“Victory isn’t measured by how many Goruns you kill, nor will anyone congratulate you for defeating one of their commanders. When this trial comes to an end, the only question I shall ask is wonderfully simple.”
His smile deepened ever so slightly.
“Who is still alive?”
Almost on cue, the heavens split apart.
An enormous bronze clock descended from the crimson sky, its pendulum stretching across the battlefield like a bridge between worlds. Every rotation of its ancient gears echoed throughout the wasteland before the single hand upon its face began its relentless march.
Tick…
Tock…
“One day,” Macaco said pleasantly. “That is all you need to survive.”
He gave us a cheerful bow.
“When the clock completes its circuit those still alive shall pass.”
With that, he disappeared. The doorway vanished behind him.
For several heartbeats, no one moved. The endless Gorun army remained motionless on the horizon, waiting with impossible discipline.
Then Kaelra laughed.
It wasn’t her usual amused chuckle.
It was the exhilarated laughter of a warrior who had finally found a battlefield worthy of her strength.
“Now this…”
She stepped forward.
“…Is what I’ve been waiting for.”
Silver Soul Force erupted around her like an exploding star.
Her body expanded with terrifying speed as scales spread across her skin in shimmering waves. Her bones cracked and reshaped themselves, while powerful limbs replaced human arms and a colossal tail burst through the storm of Soul Force behind her. Vast wings unfolded with a thunderous roar, each beat scattering hurricane-force winds across the battlefield.
Within moments, the woman was gone.
In her place stood a magnificent silver dragon nearly two hundred meters long. Every scale gleamed like polished moonlight, her horns curved elegantly backward like ancient crowns, and streams of pale blue flame escaped between rows of enormous fangs each time she exhaled.
She threw back her head.
The dragon’s roar shook the heavens.
Then, with a single mighty beat of her wings, Kaelra launched herself forward like a silver comet, charging directly toward the endless ranks of the Goruns as the first wave finally began marching to meet her.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!