My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 1081: Meeting The Council

The council immediately erupted into laughter.

Even several of the older Saints who had maintained stern expressions throughout my arrival failed to hide their amusement. Dean himself appeared entirely pleased with the reaction he had caused, leaning back in his chair as though he had just delivered a profound truth rather than a ridiculous statement.

Once the laughter gradually subsided, the attention of the chamber returned to me.

Curiosity had been present from the beginning, but now that introductions were finished nobody seemed interested in pretending otherwise.

An elderly woman with silver eyes was the first to speak.

"Since we’re all here, perhaps we should begin with the obvious question. Why exactly are you in the Null Realm?"

Several heads nodded. I had expected that one.

"I came here because I have a mission."

The answer only seemed to increase their interest.

"What kind of mission?" another council member asked.

"The kind that eventually involves removing Eternal control from the Prime Territory in the Null Realm."

A few eyebrows immediately rose.

Unlike Evelyn, however, none of them looked particularly shocked. Maybe even disappointed after hearing what I just said.

The questions continued.

How had I entered the Null Realm while still alive?

Who had helped me?

How had I bypassed the barriers separating the realms?

Had Amun truly sent me?

Were there other living descendants of the original bloodlines beyond the Prime Territory?

The discussion flowed naturally from one question to the next as the council attempted to piece together exactly what I was.

When the topic of my arrival surfaced again, I simply offered a vague answer.

"I had help from some very powerful people."

That response earned several dissatisfied looks.

Marcus looked particularly unconvinced.

"Powerful enough to send a living human into the Null Realm?"

"Yes."

"And that’s all you’re willing to say?"

"Pretty much."

A few council members exchanged knowing glances. I was not interested in telling them about what I did in the crimson realm and how I obtained the key.

Nobody pressed further.

If a secret was important enough to survive Verilux and cross the boundary between life and death, it was probably important enough not to discuss in a room full of people I had known for less than an hour.

Eventually the conversation drifted toward my family.

More specifically, toward the fact that an entire branch of Ironharts had somehow remained hidden from the resistance for generations.

One of the older Saints turned toward Dean.

"Actually, that raises another question. Why exactly did your lineage keep the existence of living Ironharts hidden for so long?"

He shrugged.

"How would I know?"

The council stared at him.

The old man looked genuinely confused.

"I don’t keep track of those things."

Several people groaned immediately.

Dean waved a dismissive hand.

"Somebody probably made a decision several hundred years ago and then forgot to tell everyone else. That’s usually how these things happen."

"You are the patriarch of your branch."

"And?"

The old man seemed completely unbothered.

"You say that like it means I handle paperwork."

More groans echoed through the chamber.

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I cannot believe this man is still allowed to vote."

"Jealousy isn’t attractive, Marcus."

The council erupted into another round of complaints while Dean looked entirely pleased with himself.

As the discussion continued, I gradually began noticing something else.

Most of the people present were curious.

Some were cautious.

A few seemed impressed.

But one man looked annoyed.

He appeared younger than most of the council members, though the Saint aura surrounding him placed him far beyond ordinary cultivators. Broad-shouldered and sharp-featured, he had remained silent for most of the meeting, watching me with increasingly obvious skepticism.

Eventually he rose from his seat.

The man descended the steps of the council platform and began walking toward the center of the room.

His eyes never left me.

"I’ve been listening to this conversation for quite some time."

His voice echoed through the chamber.

"Living Ironhart. Chosen by Amun. Sent into the Null Realm. And yet I still don’t understand what makes you so special."

The atmosphere subtly shifted. Several council members frowned.

The Saint continued forward.

"What exactly did Amun see in you that justified sending a mortal into the middle of a war that has consumed entire civilizations?"

As he spoke, his soul force slowly began spreading through the chamber. It wasn’t enough to threaten the council.

That wasn’t the target.

It was directed entirely at me.

The pressure rolled forward like an invisible tide, carrying the weight of a Saint’s authority. The stone beneath his feet cracked softly while the air itself seemed to grow heavier.

Most people below Saint rank would have been forced to their knees before they even understood what was happening.

The man clearly expected resistance, perhaps even humiliation, yet when I merely stood there looking back at him with a faint smile, a slight frown appeared on his face. The soul force pouring from him intensified, causing the air throughout the chamber to grow heavier while several council members shifted subtly in their seats, watching the exchange with growing interest.

Nobody intervened. They were curious. After all, a living Ironhart had arrived claiming to work directly under Amun, and this was likely the first opportunity they would have to measure exactly what that meant.

For a brief moment I almost laughed.

Slowly, I straightened my posture and met the Saint’s gaze directly. The pressure surrounding me hadn’t disappeared, nor had it weakened in any meaningful way. It simply stopped mattering.

The change in his expression was immediate.

Until now he had been testing me.

For the first time, he seemed to realize he might be the one being tested.

"You want to know what Amun saw?" I asked calmly.

Then I released a fraction of my own aura.

The effect was instantaneous. The soul force dominating the chamber shattered like glass struck by a hammer, and for a brief instant the entire council hall fell silent as every Saint present instinctively turned toward me.

The man standing before me didn’t even have time to react. His eyes widened, his body tensed, and then a violent shockwave exploded outward from my position. One moment he was standing a few meters away and the next he was hurtling backward through the air, crossing the entire chamber before slamming into the far wall with enough force to send cracks racing through the ancient stone.

The impact thundered throughout the dome.

When the dust finally began to settle, the Saint remained embedded within the stone looking just as stunned as everyone else.

I lowered my aura.

The overwhelming pressure vanished immediately, yet nobody spoke.