My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 807 Ironhart Lineage And Souls

"That," he uttered deliberately, "isn't an easy query to resolve." His eyes wandered beyond me for a moment, scanning the boundless sea as if the response lingered in recollections instead of language.

"Yet if your goal is to halt the Eternal assault," he went on, "you'll need to overcome him."

I fixed my gaze on him.

"Is he linked to the Eternals?"

Amun inclined his head.

He held back from explaining right away.

The mere affirmation stirred a wave in my mind. Each Eternal I'd confronted, every piece of their being I'd absorbed, every oddity tied to their aura—all converged on one source.

Not a species, but an individual.

"Why did he claim he eliminated all the Ironharts?" I inquired. "And how could he manipulate my blood?" I posed the puzzle that had nagged me since the start.

Amun hesitated.

The confection dangled midway from his fingers to his lips. For the initial time in our exchange, his demeanor shed its relaxed poise. He breathed out softly and placed the sweet back on the dish untouched.

His azure eyes met mine once more, and upon resuming speech, his tone shed its prior levity.

"During the conflict for the Empty Throne, the Ironharts opposed him," Amun stated evenly. "Thus, he pursued and eradicated them."

He presented it bluntly. He spared no gentleness for the fact. He conveyed it as one might recount the downfall of a realm or the implosion of a celestial body, as an unavoidable fate once the course was set.

"However, since you're here before me," he proceeded, eyes fixed steadfastly on mine, "you realize the result wasn't total. Certain ones endured. Beyond the Ironharts. Numerous bloodlines thriving in the Prime Universe today stem from my original world."

He reclined a bit, crossing his arms casually over his torso.

"The Ironharts weren't insignificant," he appended. "Your forebears didn't just persist. They dominated. Vast star systems yielded to their command. Their sway reached zones unknown to most societies."

His gaze sharpened subtly.

"I'd rank your heritage among the foremost five of that time regarding feats and reach. That by itself marked them for his wrath."

He halted for a beat.

"And your presence here, bearing that lineage, advancing this far… that's no trivial feat."

I weighed his statements with care. The Ironharts hadn't sprung from the Prime Universe. They hailed from elsewhere.

From his realm.

A realm that preceded all I'd encountered.

"Do the Eternals originate from your home world?" I questioned.

He affirmed promptly with a nod.

"Yes."

The verification clicked seamlessly, matching all I'd noted thus far. "How did he manage to command my blood?" I pressed.

Amun delayed his reply.

Rather, he selected another sweet and examined it pensively prior to responding.

"Because he comprehended it," he explained. "He had clashed with it previously."

He regarded me anew.

"Tell me," he prompted. "How many visions have you glimpsed from the book?"

"Two."

He acknowledged with a slight nod.

"Well done. The third vision will reveal his talent."

His manner grew weightier.

"And upon witnessing it, you'll grasp why your blood heeded him."

"Why are you adversaries?" I reiterated.

He grinned.

"I'm not revealing that."

The straightforward denial bordered on affront.

I curbed the sudden impulse to lunge over the table and strike that serene look from his features.

"Why did he assert you're intending to pass your role to me?" I queried alternatively.

Amun gave a nonchalant shrug, treating the matter as trivial.

"How should I know his motives for saying that?" he countered. "Inquire of him directly."

He grasped another sweet and nibbled it, utterly indifferent.

I regarded him wordlessly. Oddly, despite Theras's deeds and all he embodied, I found him simpler to handle than Amun. Theras was straightforward. Brutal. Forthright in his malice. Amun concealed all behind tranquil grins and offhand remarks, as if no aspect of reality weighed on him.

He let out a gentle laugh, evidently deciphering my mind from my face alone.

"Billion," he addressed, "recall when I mentioned knowing the location of your parents' souls?"

My features tightened at once.

I did recall.

In the chained domain, facing him unaware of his true nature, he'd uttered precisely that.

"You see," he elaborated, voice steady, "the Eternals can't ensnare Ironhart souls. They can shatter forms. They can slay them. But essences like yours… they remain beyond their grasp. Your parents' souls are secure. They persist in a place he can't touch."

He paused momentarily.

"And when you attain Saint," he declared, "I'll disclose the spot."

He rose from his seat and strolled several paces toward the infinite sea, hands clasped idly behind as he surveyed the tranquil expanse.

"The Theras you encountered wasn't the authentic one," he noted. "It was just a manifestation crafted from a lone droplet of his blood. Even in that constrained form, he overpowered you utterly."

No reproach colored his words.

Just stark reality.

"You ought to comprehend the implication," he added softly. "What awaits you ahead isn't that shard. It's the prime entity. And his might surpasses vastly what you beheld."

He lingered quiet briefly before pressing on.

"He's my foe because I thwarted his pursuit of what he deemed his due. I chose based on my conviction of necessity. I acted on what I held as just. Yet he views it differently."

His timbre eased a touch.

"He is my brother," he revealed. "But his loathing engulfs me entirely."

He pivoted back to face me.

"And he will arrive."

No doubt laced his statement.

"He will descend upon the Prime Universe. He will seek vengeance. He will target me."

His stare pinned to mine.

"And he will pursue you."

I held his gaze.

"You now bear the Executor authority," he stated. "And you hold Ironhart blood. To him, you symbolize the history he sought to obliterate and the destiny he can't dictate."

The burden of his declaration pressed deep inside me.

"The System lacks the strength to repel him," Amun went on. "Not upon his advent in full form."

"Thus, on that fateful day," he concluded, "the burden falls to you."

A hush extended between us.

I examined his countenance intently.

"Won't you confront him?" I asked.

He withheld an instant response.

Instead, he directed his sight to the unending ocean once more, stance composed, face inscrutable.

"I wish," he murmured.

And within that brief phrase, I detected an unforeseen element.

Regret.