My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 947 Ruin Strike

[God Statue: Goldius]

[Statues dedicated to the Primary God Goldius, ruler of Orien. These structures are spread across the world and act as focal points of divine influence.

For Believers: These statues serve as a medium to communicate with their God. Under specific conditions, they can grant blessings, temporary enhancements, or divine protection.

Current Function: The statues are being actively used as summoning anchors. Through ritual offerings, they allow Goldius to deploy allied entities and forces into Orien to support the Believers in their war against the Defiers.

For Defiers: These statues act as high-value targets. Destroying them grants significant rewards in the form of experience, Combat Points (CP), and Influence Points (IP). They also weaken the presence and reach of Goldius in the surrounding region.

Additional Properties: Some God Statues contain sealed subspaces (Dungeons).

Clearing these grants:

→ High experience gains

→ Rare rewards

→ Large amounts of Influence Points

→ Possible access to unique skills or items

[Warning: Statues may be guarded or actively monitored by forces aligned with Goldius.]]

I dismissed the window and let my gaze sweep across the clearing once more, taking in the statue, the circle, the pillar, and the ground around it, but there was nothing else hidden in plain sight, no openings, no distortions, no signs of a sealed subspace that could hint at a dungeon. Whatever this place was meant to be, it wasn't that. Which meant the only immediate threat in front of me was the orc.

Level 10.

Three levels above me.

Under normal circumstances, I would have taken a different approach, but time wasn't something I could afford to waste here. The longer I delayed, the more of these things would appear, and the situation would only get worse.

So I moved.

Stepping out from behind the tree, I walked straight into the clearing, my grip tightening slightly around the sword as I closed the distance without hesitation.

The orc heard it immediately and turned.

Its eyes locked onto me the moment I came into view, and almost instantly, a wide, feral grin spread across its face.

"Well now… this must be my lucky day," it said, its voice rough as it dragged the axe up onto its shoulder. "I've just arrived, and fresh Defier meat is already walking toward me." A low laugh followed, building into something louder. "Hahahah…"

I let out a quiet chuckle in response.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I said, meeting its gaze without slowing. "I'll rub your face down in the dirt soon enough."

That only made it laugh harder.

"You talk funny, man," it said, shaking its head as it stepped forward, bringing the axe down into a ready position. "Best joke I've heard in years."

It stopped just a few feet away.

"Ready?" it asked, grinning.

"Let's go," I replied, matching it.

The moment the words settled, it moved. A single step forward, followed by the axe rising and coming down in a heavy arc, cutting through the air with a sharp whooshing sound as it descended straight toward me.

I didn't raise my sword given its condition. I was sure one hit would break it in multiple fragments.

Instead, I stepped back at the last possible moment, letting the blade pass just inches in front of me before it slammed into the ground with enough force to crack the surface beneath it.

I moved in immediately.

My sword came up, aiming straight for its neck, but the orc reacted faster than expected, bringing its forearm up to intercept. The blade cut through its skin cleanly, biting deeper until it met bone and stopped there. Blood spilled down its arm, but it didn't pull back.

I did.

Twisting the blade free, I stepped away before the counter came.

It came instantly.

The orc lifted the axe again as if the injury didn't matter and lunged forward, swinging horizontally this time, the motion wide and fast enough to catch me if I misjudged it.

I dropped low.

The axe passed over me, the air shifting from its force, and I drove forward at the same time, my left fist shooting straight into the center of its chest.

The impact landed solid. Its body lifted off the ground, thrown back a few feet before hitting the ground hard.

I didn't give it time. Closing the distance in a single burst, I moved over its fallen form and drove the sword down toward its heart.

It reacted even then. Coughing blood, it twisted just enough.

The blade missed the heart.

Instead, it pierced through its stomach.

It grinned.

Before I could pull back, its hand shot forward and grabbed the blade, holding it in place despite the damage.

"Got you," it muttered.

The axe came up again. I let go of the sword and jumped back just as it swung, the blade cutting through the space I had just occupied.

The orc began to stir, its movements ponderous yet unwavering, as though the gash in its belly were merely a trivial irritation. I remained still. My sword was still buried deep within its form, angled through its midsection. I watched as it grasped the hilt and commenced extracting the blade inch by agonizing inch, the grating sound of steel against flesh echoing in the secluded area.

Rather than advancing, I redirected my attention inward.

The instant I articulated its command—

[Ruin Strike]

A subtle shift occurred.

It was not an abrupt, violent outburst like the Overdrive, but rather a focused intensification. A peculiar pressure permeated my entire being, drawing upon my sinews, my breath, every iota of my remaining power. It coalesced with haste, narrowing to a singular point before surging towards my right fist, amassing there with a precarious, barely contained density.

I did not budge.

My gaze remained fixed upon the orc.

It finally wrenched the sword free, crimson flowing from the wound as it discarded the weapon without a second thought. Its wicked grin reappeared, broader this time despite the injury sustained.

"I shall carve a significantly larger aperture into your being," it declared, hoisting its ax once more as it stood to its full height.

"Give it your best effort," I responded without a moment's pause.

The orc bellowed and charged anew, covering the intervening distance in a few thunderous strides before unleashing the ax in a sweeping arc, intending to cleave me in twain this time.

I moved forward. Dropped into a low stance just as the weapon whistled overhead.

And propelled my fist onward.

"Ruin Strike."

For a fleeting instant, my fist blazed crimson, the concentrated power erupting simultaneously as it impacted the orc's chest, just above its vital organ.

The collision did not propel it backward immediately. Its frame tilted slightly forward, as though an internal mechanism had abruptly ceased functioning. Blood welled from its maw as it struggled for air, its grin persisting faintly but already fracturing.

Then, a beat later, a sharp, contained detonation reverberated through the clearing. A hole, fist-sized, erupted from its back, flesh and bone yielding from within as the force obliterated it entirely.

The orc's body went rigid. It then crumpled. Expired before it even met the ground.

The clearing was once again engulfed in silence. A notification materialized instantaneously.

[Level Up]

[Level 7 → 9]

[Combat Points +60]

[Influence Points +10]

[Skill Level Up]

[Combat Mastery I (Active)] → [Combat Mastery II (Active)]

An additional influx of knowledge concerning the skill flowed into my consciousness.

I exhaled gradually, lowering my hand as the residual power dissipated, though a sense of profound weariness settled upon me, as if every ounce of my vitality had been instantaneously extracted.