My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 737: Lana And Zerathul

I let my perception narrow again, filtering the noise without shutting it out. The hall was still alive around us, laughter rolling in waves, heat rising and falling with the music, but the image Primus had shown me on Armus came back to my mind.

That was how I noticed her.

She stood on the far side of the hall, partially obscured by a cluster of demons and a tall Naga. Lana didn’t look directly at us. She didn’t want to. Her eyes slid sideways instead, brief and cautious, tracking Primus from the edge of her vision.

She had seen us the moment we entered. Everyone had.

Her hand was linked with another demon’s, fingers laced with practiced ease. He stood half a head taller than most around him, posture relaxed, presence contained but dense. There was a grin on his face as he talked with the people around him.

I scanned him and he was similar in strength to Saleos. An Upper Transcendent.

I exhaled slowly.

"Oh," I said under my breath. "They’re here."

North followed my gaze without turning her head. "Where?"

I shifted my eyes just enough, angling them toward the outer ring of the hall. "Near that Naga. See the group just past the obsidian column."

She tracked it, then stiffened almost imperceptibly. "That’s her?"

"Yes."

"And the demon with her?"

"I’m guessing Zerathul."

North was quiet for a moment. "Should we tell Primus?"

I hesitated. "Whatever you think."

She glanced at me. "We should. But I don’t want a scene."

"Neither do I," I said. "This isn’t the place."

She nodded once. "Still, he deserves to know. Let him decide."

I considered it, then gave a small nod. "Alright."

I reached out silently, sending the message directly to Primus.

"Lana is here. Across the hall. With someone."

There was a pause.

Then Primus’s presence shifted, just slightly.

We walked back toward his group at an easy pace, letting ourselves be absorbed into the flow of the celebration. I stopped to exchange a few words with a passing Feran. North accepted a drink she didn’t intend to finish.

Steve spotted us first. "What were you two up to?" he asked, already halfway through something that smoked faintly in his hand.

"Scouting ex wife," I said.

Primus looked at me.

"Where?" he asked, voice level.

I inclined my head, mirroring the direction I’d shown North earlier. "Near the outer ring. Past the column. She’s trying not to look obvious."

Primus followed the line of sight, then went still.

"Of course she is," he muttered.

Steve blinked. "Wait. Who?"

"Lana," Primus said flatly.

Steve swore under his breath.

Primus exhaled, then straightened. "Alright. Let’s go talk to her."

I frowned slightly. "You sure? This is our first time here. Causing drama wouldn’t help anyone."

He glanced at me, expression steady. "I won’t cause drama."

North looked between us. "We’ll keep it casual."

I studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I trust you."

We didn’t go straight to them.

Instead, we drifted. Stopped. Exchanged words. Let the hall carry us in a wide arc. When we finally approached, it felt incidental, like any other convergence in a crowded room.

By the time we reached them, the group had grown.

Zerathul stood at the center, Lana at his side. Two other demons flanked them, their expressions polite. The Naga female remained nearby, arms crossed loosely.

Zerathul noticed us first.

His gaze flicked to me, then sharpened with recognition. He stepped forward smoothly and extended his hand.

"Mr. Billion Ironhart," he said, voice calm, measured. "It’s an absolute honor to finally meet you. I’ve read the reports. What you did at the rift... Dragos owes you thanks."

I took his hand.

"No worries," I replied. "I did what I thought was right."

His smile widened just a fraction.

Then Primus spoke.

"Hi, Lana," he said. "How are you doing?"

The change was immediate.

Zerathul turned, surprise flashing across his face before he masked it. He looked between them. "You know each other?"

"Oh," Primus said mildly. "Yes. I’m her ex-husband."

The smile vanished from Zerathul’s face. It didn’t crack or distort. It simply disappeared.

A heartbeat passed. Then he smiled back. "I see. You must be Primus Bloodreaver."

Primus nodded. They shook hands. The exchange was brief, formal, loaded with unspoken context.

"If you don’t mind," Primus said evenly, "I’d like to speak with Lana for a moment."

Zerathul glanced at her.

Lana swallowed, then nodded quickly. "Yes. That’s fine. We should talk."

They stepped away together, moving toward a quieter corner near the edge of the hall.

Zerathul turned back to me. "So," he said, composure restored. "How are you finding Dragos?"

I answered automatically, keeping my attention split. "Lively."

As we spoke, I let my perception track Primus and Lana.

"You’re coming back with me," Primus said without preamble.

Lana let out a sharp breath. "What? What do you mean I’m coming back with you?"

"Lara is alone," he replied. "She needs her mother."

Silence.

Then, brittle laughter. "Are you out of your mind? I’m not coming back with you, Primus."

"Of course not," he said calmly. "Why would you? You’ve been doing quite well for yourself."

Her voice hardened. "Don’t."

"You must be," he continued evenly, "going around stealing fortunes from demons. Look at them. Important. Powerful. This hall alone could fund you for decades."

That made me pause.

Stealing fortunes.

Lana’s head snapped up, eyes flashing. "Oh?" she said, a sharp edge creeping into her voice. "Is that a threat now? Are you planning to expose me, Primus? Is that what this is?"

Primus didn’t react. Not a flicker of irritation. Not a hint of surprise.

"No," he said. "I’m telling you you’re coming back."

Her lips curled. "You don’t get to decide that anymore."

"I already have," he replied calmly.

She laughed, but it was hollow. "You think you can just walk in here and drag me away? After everything? You have any idea what I gave up to be here?"

"You gave up Lara," Primus said. His voice didn’t rise. "You didn’t leave her. You abandoned her."

Lana stiffened. "Don’t you dare say her name."

"You conspired to kill me," he continued, unbothered by the interruption. "You planned it carefully. Cleanly. Because you wanted this."

She took a step closer, eyes burning. "I wanted power. I wanted freedom. I wanted to stop being small."

"So you stole," Primus said. "You bent luck. You skimmed fortune. You latched onto demons with resources. You are a disgusting leech."

Her smile turned sharp. Proud. "And it worked."

"It did," he agreed. "And now it’s over."

She shook her head slowly. "You really think you can force me? In this place?"

"Yes," Primus said without hesitation. "Whether you want to come back or not."

Silence stretched between them.

"I will see how you do that," she whispered and then walked back with a smile.

Her expression was composed again, mask settled neatly back into place, but the tension clung to her shoulders. She rejoined Zerathul without a word, slipping her hand back into his arm as if nothing had happened. Zerathul didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. His eyes flicked once toward Primus, sharp, calculating, then away.

A moment later, Primus came back to us.

Steve opened his mouth, thought better of it, and went back to arguing with a Feran about spice ratios. North didn’t ask. Neither did I.

The night moved on.

Time slipped in uneven stretches, marked by conversations rather than minutes. We spoke with Ferans about border skirmishes. A Naga envoy questioned me politely about my origin directly and spoke far more than she listened.

Everywhere we went, the same undercurrent followed us. Recognition. Calculation. Interest.

This wasn’t celebration anymore.

It was positioning.

At some point, Saleos appeared at my side.

"Walk with me, the General wants to discuss something," he said quietly. "Just you."

I nodded without hesitation.

North looked at me. I gave a small shake of my head. "Stay here."

I followed him as he moved away from the noise, the heat, the witnesses, leaving the celebration behind and going to the adjacent room.