My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 624: A Lady?

Herald didn’t even get a chance to speak.

The ancestor’s fist slammed straight into his stomach.

A wet choking sound tore out of him as he folded instantly, dropping to his knees, both hands clutching his abdomen. His breath came out in short, broken gasps.

"Useless," the old demon growled. "One job. You had one fucking job."

Herald tried to lift his head.

He didn’t get far.

The ancestor grabbed him by the horns and yanked him upright then brought his knee up hard.

CRACK.

Herald flew backward, smashing into the stone wall with enough force to leave a dent. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth as he struggled to stand, legs shaking under him.

The ancestor didn’t move. He just stared at his son with an expression that was somewhere between disgust and disappointment.

"I trained you," he said slowly, voice low and controlled. "Fed you. Protected you. Prepared you. And still you cannot do even the simplest thing without fumbling like a blind child."

Herald wiped the blood from his face, staring at the ground, saying nothing.

The ancestor snorted.

"Look at you. Pathetic. And this is the person Lana trusts to relay information? No wonder everything takes longer than it should."

Herald’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t lift his eyes.

The ancestor waved a hand dismissively.

"Get out."

Herald staggered to his feet, swaying.

"And Herald," the old demon added without looking back, "let me know exactly when I am meant to move tomorrow."

He paused.

"If you mess this up..." His voice became pure ice. "I will personally kill you. Lana can find herself another idiot to replace you."

Herald stiffened, bowed shakily, and limped out of the room.

I watched as the ancestor sat back down, picked up his book again...and began reading as if nothing at all had happened.

I followed Herald out.

He staggered down the corridor, wiping the blood from his chin. But the moment he thought he was alone, his expression twisted—rage, humiliation, and something darker bubbling beneath.

His fist clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.

"Old bastard..." he muttered under his breath. "One day... you’ll see who’s useless."

He reached the end of the hall where another demon guard waited. Herald grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Call a meeting," he snapped. "Now. Tell the others we gather in the west hall. Immediately."

The guard nodded and hurried off.

Herald didn’t follow. He simply stood there for a few seconds, breathing hard, fighting the urge to punch the wall. Then he turned sharply and walked away, still shaking with anger.

I ignored all of it.

His plans weren’t my concern.

I returned to the hidden chamber beneath the building, the one with the three teleportation circles. I stood before the three circles again and stared.

One circle had brought me here, to the Del Reys.

Two remained.

"Let’s see where you lead," I muttered.

I stepped onto the left circle.

The runes lit up instantly, humming with power as I infused Essence into them.

I vanished.

And reappeared inside another underground chamber, right in front of a demon sitting cross-legged in meditation.

Before his eyes even opened, I hid myself into the fold of space, slipping sideways until not a single breath of my existence remained.

A heartbeat later, the demon’s eyes snapped open.

A deep, crushing pressure exploded out of him, filling the entire chamber like a storm compressed into stone walls. The floor vibrated. Dust drifted down from the ceiling.

I didn’t move.

His aura washed through the air, violent and sharp.

And I recognized him.

The envoy.

The only Transcendent stationed in Armus’s capital.

So this teleportation circle... was directly connected to the capital.

The demon rose slowly to his feet, his expression darkening as he turned his head, scanning the room with narrow eyes.

Then he vanished.

A blur.

He reappeared right beside the teleportation circle I had come from, crouching low, his fingers brushing the glowing runes. He rubbed his fingertips together, feeling the faint residue of Essence.

"A visitor..." he muttered.

His tone held suspicion.

He straightened and released another wave of energy, this time a focused ripple of Essence that shot outward like an expanding ring.

The ripple slammed into the chamber walls.

Cracks spider-webbed instantly through the stone.

But when it reached me, I simply absorbed it.

I simply watched it pass through the fold of space, brushing against me like a soft breeze.

He did not sense me.

Even Transcendents could not easily detect where I hid now, not with my perception, not with the violet essence flooding my body.

The envoy growled low in his throat, irritated.

He scanned the entire room, then the ceiling, then the cracks in the wall. His crimson eyes gleamed as he analyzed every inch.

I scanned the old demon.

[Gyros Trid – Level 310]

Gyros flicked his hand again. Three small flame-like wisps floated out from his palm and scattered across the room, searching for any trace of life or spatial disturbance.

I watched calmly as they drifted close to me... and passed through harmlessly.

Satisfied nothing was left behind, the envoy turned sharply and walked toward the chamber entrance.

Gyros strode out of the chamber with long, heavy steps, his aura still sharp and simmering.

The moment he stepped into the corridor, an attendant demoness was already waiting, bowing deeply, hands clasped behind her back.

"Lord Envoy," she said, voice steady despite the pressure rolling off him, "Dragos is requesting communication. They say it is urgent."

Gyros didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened, and a faint ember of fire flickered over his horns.

"...Very well," he said at last.

He walked down the hall, and I moved with him.

The envoy pushed open a heavy metal door and stepped into his private office, a large room lit by floating crimson spheres. In the center rested a thick desk carved from white stone.

Gyros sat down, leaned forward, and placed his palm over a circular imprint on the desk.

The air hummed.

A projection screen materialized in front of him, shimmering with runes.

My eyes narrowed the moment the image came into focus.

Lana Del Rey.

Again.

She sat on a throne-like chair on the other end of the connection, composed and calm, dressed in formal blood-red armor. Her expression softened, not much, but enough to show this wasn’t a casual call.

Gyros immediately stood and bowed.

"Lady Lana."

My eyebrows lifted.

Lady?

Lana was not just a daughter of a clan head. She was something more.

Something powerful enough to make a Transcendent envoy bow his head without hesitation.

She gave the envoy a small nod.

"Gyros," she said softly. "We have much to discuss."