My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 906 The Plan

****** [Billion's PoV]

My gaze fixed on the vacant throne before me.

Elevated proudly, it embodied ages of dominance, heritage, and might. No soul in this grand chamber dared hinder my ascent of those stairs, my claim upon it, or my seizure of its power.

Yet, that seat held zero allure for me. The true prize lay realms beyond this one—the throne pursued by Amun and Theras, the one even the System mentioned with utmost caution. Only that position merited my ambition.

This was merely a shadow.

I pivoted from the dais.

A mere flick of my wrist unleashed violet Essence in a torrent behind me. It amassed swiftly, solidified, and molded into existence. From pure Essence, a throne emerged—sleek, edged, and shimmering with profound violet radiance.

Towering above the pedestal, surpassing even the Matriarch's seat, it ascended. Without pause, I claimed it, reclining as though it had been forged for me alone.

Then my eyes shifted forward, locking onto the Feran envoy. The Ranthor tribe's general.

"General," I stated with composure, "you were saying something?"

Tension gripped the man. A clear swallow echoed through the silence for all to hear.

"I… I just meant…" he stammered, words tumbling weakly.

"I heard you say," I pressed on, interrupting mildly, "that we just arrived yesterday."

My stare swept the assembly. Every figure remained upright, awaiting command before daring to sit.

Returning focus to him, I continued.

"I have made a decision, General," I declared steadily. "The Ranthor tribe is no longer qualified to lead the Feran race. From tomorrow onward, the Sharkas will take over your position."

Outrage erupted instantly. Disbelief streaked the Ranthor faces.

Fury ignited next. One of the trio flanking the general advanced boldly.

"Who are you to decide—"

Swish.

The whisper was faint.

Yet absolute.

His tiger head severed neatly from the torso, tumbling across the ground until it halted. The corpse lingered upright a heartbeat longer before crumpling.

The hall froze in dread.

"Do not raise your voice in front of the Lord," Lyrate's soft voice resounded, laced with eerie sweetness.

My attention stayed riveted on the general.

"Do you have something to say?" I inquired.

He remained rigid briefly, then shook his head gradually.

"We… accept your decision," he murmured, voice frail.

A subtle nod from me.

"Good," I responded. "That is a smart decision."

I eased back into the throne's embrace.

"And there is no need to wait for Griffon reinforcements," I remarked, a subtle smirk curling. "You don't actually believe they would be able to deal with the Order of Absolute… do you?"

The general's gaze darted, flicking from me to the summons arrayed at my back.

Another swallow escaped him.

"There is nothing like that, Lord Billion," he hastened to assure. "We are inhabitants of the Blue Spiral Galaxy. We have no ties to the Griffons."

"That's good to hear."

I tilted my head faintly.

"Ragnar."

He advanced promptly.

"Ragnar is the War Sovereign of the Order of Absolute," I announced. "He will visit Ferados tomorrow and oversee the transition. Make sure your arrangements are in order, General."

Swift compliance came with his nod.

"Yes… Lord Billion."

My hand gestured dismissively.

"You may all sit."

As though unshackled, motion rippled through the chamber. Chairs scraped, and representatives resumed their seats one after another.

Pin-drop quiet reigned, with many averting eyes from me entirely.

"Lord Billion, the Naga race is ready to follow the lead of the Order of Absolute." Xena broke the hush first, her firm tone projecting across the vast space.

A momentary pause gripped the air. Then affirmations cascaded—race by race, envoy by envoy. Independent factions too, like the Warlords of the Voids, joined without dissent or query on procedure. Consensus swept the hall like wildfire.

I inclined my head deliberately.

"I am glad," I expressed, settling deeper into the throne, "that all of you have such confidence in us."

My vision traversed the gathering.

"We will not let you down. This is only the beginning. What comes next will shape the future of this galaxy."

Rigid nods answered in kind.

"Aurora," I uttered serenely.

Reclining further, I yielded the stage to her.

Aurora advanced.

This time, her silver aura simmered steadily rather than exploding, yet its weighty presence underscored her authority to all. Halting mid-chamber, her eyes scanned every delegate.

"My name," she started, her tone steady and commanding, "is Aurora. Starting now, address me as the Storm Sovereign, for I serve as the strategist in this war and every war to come."

She lifted her hand before anyone could reply. In the middle of the hall, a huge, intricate hologram took shape. The Blue Spiral Galaxy materialized, spinning gradually, its layout sharply defined.

Next, it split apart. Seven distinct areas emerged throughout the galaxy, with each zone glowing on its own.

"The galaxy stands split into seven sectors," Aurora went on. "These sectors function on their own yet follow one central authority."

While she talked, avatars popped up in every sector.

My likeness. Together with those of my summons. One assigned to each sector.

"One of us takes charge of every sector," she declared. "Forces get allocated to match, serving the leader set for that area."

Everyone grasped the meaning instantly.

"Our initial goal," she pressed on, "involves wiping out every leftover Grade 3 rift completely."

The hologram adjusted, spotlighting numerous spots throughout the galaxy.

"Our personal forces tackle these directly."

The display shifted once more. Endless red dots scattered over various planets.

Nests of abominations.

Phantom operations.

Zones overrun by infestation.

"After sealing the rifts," she stated, her voice gaining an edge, "phase two begins."

Her gaze swept the chamber.

"Purge every abomination and phantom from all planets in this galaxy. For this stage," she emphasized, "it falls to you."

"No direct support comes from us in this period," she added. "Your troops act solo, but send regular updates on advances."

"We demand total success."

Silence hung for a moment.

"In just ten days."

Her hand came down.

"There's your strategy," she announced.

Once again, her eyes scanned the hall.

"Carry it out flawlessly. Any questions?"