My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 740: The Wilderness

The shift into Dragos's untamed territory arrived without gates or fanfares. No lines divided it like those in polished realms. Instead, the alteration revealed itself in the air, the heaviness, the ground's blunt disregard for whether you lived or died.

Uneven heat shimmered upward from shattered obsidian fields that extended endlessly. Sluggish magma streams etched radiant channels across the earth, casting light on sharp contours of rock and remains.

The heavens glowed a fiercer crimson in this place, laden clouds of soot and flickering bits floating like unquenched coals. The atmosphere bore a thickness, saturated with fiery Essence that bore down on the flesh rather than drifting softly past it.

Distant settlements dotted the view. Thick packs of harsh buildings climbed beside lava peaks, spires melded straight into charred stone, spans arching over molten streams without barriers.

Life pulsed within them, vibrant and raucous even from a distance, yet they differed sharply from Dragos's ordered portion. The former embodied control in shape. These embodied excess.

Demons roamed the expanse unbound, some in armor, others shirtless, many with arms in hand. No outsiders tread these paths. This region of Dragos was demons' alone, and even residents of the tame side ventured here often, casting off ranks and duties the instant their feet met the burned soil.

"This is where we come to breathe," Zerathul remarked as we dropped toward a lesser ridge. "No councils. No chains. Just survival and appetite."

He appeared more relaxed here than in the vast chamber. His stance eased, shoulders easing as though a hidden burden had lifted. Lana remained near him, face impassive, gaze sharp, absorbing the surroundings fully.

Primus strode next to me, quiet, his stare unwavering. We had left everyone else behind at the feast.

We touched down in one of the settlements and began to wander. I extended my senses through and beyond the urban sprawl. We moved past exposed edifices hewn from rock, wall-less taverns where demons swigged fizzing elixirs in hefty mugs. Laughter boomed freely, coarse and unchecked, broken by yells and the sporadic smash of chairs splintering from wild vigor.

Close by, a pit arena sunk into a natural depression shimmered with warmth, demons battling inside as spectators lined the edge, wagering boldly, roaring without restraint.

Further away, past the illumination, bands of demons clustered at the borders of flame-hardened woods where fire-suited creatures stalked. Some came back hauling still-jerking kills, blood hissing on contact with the soil. Others set out solo, tools draped loosely across backs, driven to demonstrate prowess to empty air.

Zerathul swept his arm wide. "If the civilized side is where demons recall law," he stated, "this is where we recall instinct."

We took a spot by a lava protrusion offering warmth and shelter, near enough to catch the bustle's sounds, distant enough for privacy. Provisions arrived plainly, chunks of flesh seared right over flames, beverages served in abundance. Zerathul chatted freely, sharing tales of former pursuits, initial forays, instants where life balanced on moments of ferocity over plans.

Primus absorbed it all wordlessly. Lana contributed little to the talk.

Darkness grew thicker, but on Dragos, that just meant the sky shading deeper and the magma's shine standing out more.

As the blaze steadied into a constant flicker and chatter turned to easy murmur, I voiced my words softly.

"There’s a child back home," I mentioned offhand, like picking up a prior thread. "Alone."

Zerathul shot me a look, face even. Lana kept her eyes elsewhere.

"She needs her mother," I went on. Then I turned to Lana. "You should come with us."

A silence hung for an instant.

Lana's grip firmed a touch on her mug. "I don’t think that’s your decision to make," she replied, voice airy, nearly playful.

Primus shifted ahead slightly to speak clearly. "It shouldn’t have been," he noted. "But you made it one when you left."

Zerathul exhaled softly via his nostrils, a subtle grin curving his mouth as he faced Primus. "You’re still clinging to that?" he queried. "This is Dragos. We don’t drag people backward here."

"I’m not asking her to come back for me," Primus countered. "I’m asking her to come back for our daughter."

The grin held, but narrowed.

Lana shook her head deliberately. "You’re twisting things. She’s fine. You made sure of that."

"That’s not the same thing," Primus insisted.

Zerathul raised his cup for a leisurely swallow. "You don’t get to walk into this place and reopen old wounds," he observed calmly. "She made her choice. On her own. Why are you trying to force something she’s already moved past?"

"Yes," I interjected, "but sometimes choices come with consequences. This is one of them. She just wasn’t thorough enough in thinking hers through."

His gaze snapped to me, keen yet restrained. "And you think you’re the one to administer those consequences."

I held for a moment.

"I believe I can, if it comes to that," I stated. "Executing judgments is something I’m specializing in."

The atmosphere thickened.

Zerathul placed his cup down with excess force. "That’s enough."

He faced Lana, his palm settling softly at her back. "You’re not going anywhere," he assured, voice soft, comforting. "No one here is taking you from me."

Then he regarded us again.

"You should enjoy the night," he suggested smoothly. "It’s a long one. No need to spoil it with things that should’ve stayed buried."

For a split second, a scheming glint flashed in his eyes. Then it faded, swapped for poised assurance.

"The wilderness has a way of settling matters," he tacked on. "Let’s not rush it."

He reclined, conversation over for him.

I observed how the darknesses danced outside the fire's reach, how far-off motions aligned a bit too precisely for chance.

The night stretched on.

And Zerathul had already plotted its close.

I spotted numerous demons altering their routes and tasks. I saw them circling to encircle us.

Primus caught it as well. His fingers clenched a fraction on his weapon's grip, but he kept it sheathed.

"He’s moving," he murmured.

I nodded.

Zerathul departed with an apology, abandoning the three of us by the fire.

Consume problems.

I observed the gloom extend, the hunters edge nearer, and held my tongue.

The wild side of Dragos held no observers.

And by dawn, it would claim one fewer commander.