My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 734: The Demon HQ - Dragos

Silently slicing through the emptiness, our vessel trailed right after the demon general's deep crimson ship. Through the observation window, the world of Dragos gradually appeared before us.

No one could overlook it.

The world was ablaze.

Not with ruin, but with raw vitality. Enormous expanses of its crust shimmered with fiery channels, streams of magma etching luminous wounds over charred terrain. Towering volcanoes commanded the skyline, a few inactive while others erupted flames and soot high into the sky. Even from afar, the sensation hit me. The principles of fire on this world were thick, fierce, pulsating. They assaulted my perceptions right as we slipped into its orbital path, like a savage greeting from the planet itself.

Three satellites orbited the world. One bore fractures and emitted a soft inner light. The next was shadowy, seemingly devouring illumination. The last smoldered in a muted red tone, mirroring Dragos's fiery face like a vigilant observer.

Saleos remained at my side, his arms folded, eyes locked on the world below.

"This is Dragos," he murmured softly. "The demon headquarters. Our home."

As the armada reduced speed to veer toward the more illuminated portion of the planet, organized illuminations created designs on the ground. Enormous urban centers were forged straight into peaks and lava-formed ledges, featuring sharp and stark building styles. Towers of ebony metal and rock ascended next to cascading molten flows.

Saleos went on, his tone firm. "The planet splits into two parts. The civilized sector and the free sector."

I shot him a quick look.

"The civilized half houses the Demon Monarch," he clarified. "Administration, military command, research, industry. Order. Structure. Laws."

"And the other half?" Steve inquired from our rear, smooshing his features against the observation window.

Saleos's lips quirked just a bit. "Chaos. Freedom. Survival of the strongest. Anyone can exist there as they please. Fight. Hunt. Build. Destroy. No meddling unless it endangers the entire planet."

"That sounds... fun," Ragnar grumbled.

"It maintains equilibrium," Saleos responded. "Despite how it looks, demons stand united. When the Eternal endangers us, Dragos responds together."

He hesitated, then included, "Ninety percent of the forces you fought beside to close the rift came from this planet."

Silence followed that revelation.

The vessels dropped toward the civilized sector, slipping past stacked protective shields that flickered momentarily before granting passage. The warmth grew sharper, then suddenly evened out as Essence fields adapted to our presence. The metropolis underneath sprawled hugely, etched into a chain of mountains extending well past the visible edge.

The general's craft landed first. Ours came down right behind.

As soon as the entryway parted, scorching gusts flooded inside. The surface under my feet vibrated subtly with heated Essence.

The veteran general exited before us, his bulky armor rattling lightly. He motioned ahead.

"This way."

We traversed broad ledges and rising trails hewn right into the mountain face. Various demons crossed our path. Some halted to gawk. Others dipped their heads in respect. The rumors were already circulating.

As we climbed further, our objective appeared. It perched atop a summit, isolated from the primary palace yet near enough for the gigantic core peak to tower in the distance like a quiet ruler overseeing all beneath it.

Dark rock formed the building, its style refined yet subdued. Expansive terraces gazed over seas of mist and valleys illuminated by lava far down. Essence shields throbbed gently, maintaining a steady atmosphere.

Before departing, the general halted and pivoted to face us, his substantial armor creaking as he regarded me squarely.

"This will be your residence," he stated, indicating the edifice. "Servants have been notified. All within is at your disposal. Rest, recover, and ready yourselves. A feast occurs this evening."

I dipped my head a touch. "We appreciate the hospitality."

He examined me a bit more, then acknowledged with a nod.

"You achieved beyond sealing a rift today," he remarked. "You brought Dragos a sensation it hasn't known for ages. Relief." His tone dropped. "And momentum."

I held his stare. "We didn’t do it for gratitude."

A subtle grin etched his rugged features. "Good. Gratitude fades. Results do not."

He drew himself up.

"I’ll spread the news myself," he proceeded. "The Demon Monarch will learn of this shortly. For now, treat this spot as neutral territory. No politics. Just rest."

I nodded. "That’s all we want for now."

The general offered a last nod, then spun and started departing, his guards aligning with him prior to vanishing in bursts of scarlet glow.

Tension lifted only once they had vanished.

For an instant, silence reigned.

Then Steve let out a heavy breath. "Wow. Demons really know how to pick vacation spots."

"Vacation?" Knight uttered tonelessly.

"Workcation," Steve amended.

Ragnar extended his limbs and chuckled. "I like this place. Feels alive."

Silver appeared weary yet content. "I just want a bed."

Aurora had ventured to the balcony's rim, gazing at the skyline, faint sparks dancing around her fingertips.

Lyrate cocked her head, surveying the peaks with her eyes. "The land itself is aggressive. I like it."

Mazikeen folded her arms, her face inscrutable.

Servants showed up shortly, prompt and quiet, leading us to our individual chambers. The guest house's insides felt cozy, a stark contrast to the external blaze.

While we scattered, Lyrate drew near me, wearing a sly grin.

"Steve won’t be joining you tonight," she mentioned.

I arched a brow. "Oh?"

She peered along the corridor. "He’s with Mazikeen."

From further within the guest house, Steve's words resounded. "I swear I didn’t mean it like that—"

A sharp bang came next.

Lyrate chuckled lightly.

I shook my head and made for my designated chamber. North awaited inside, positioned at the pane, observing the erupting skyline.

The entrance closed with a gentle buzz behind us, blocking out Dragos's remote noises. Briefly, we stayed wordless. External radiance poured via the high panes, casting her outline in wavering crimson and amber shades.

I approached and encircled her with my arms from the rear, placing my chin gently by her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" I inquired.

She released a brief giggle and reclined into me, utterly relaxed. "More than okay."

"That doesn’t sound like someone who just walked out of a rift war."

She shifted a little within my hold, sufficient to glimpse me sideways. "I’m excited," she confessed frankly. "For the first time, it doesn’t feel like I will be left behind. I can feel it. My body, my skills. I’m progressing."

I grinned. "Ranking up?"

She affirmed with a nod, her gaze sparkling. "Yeah. Transcendent. When I was in Vaythos the best I wanted was Grandmaster."

I stroked my thumb down her limb. "I did too."

She turned ahead once more, placing her palms atop mine. "Also," she tossed in offhandedly, "I kind of like our small group. It’s fun to be around everyone."

I let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah. A weird bunch for sure."

She giggled once more, airy and free. And as I gazed into the crimson radiance, my mind wandered to the prospects ahead for us. Optimism filled me.