Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Chapter 460: • Ashes of Defiance Part Two

He landed in a crouch, stone cracking beneath him, and sprang forward again, a comet of light aimed at the Emperor’s chest.

“Not so fast, reptile!” the Emperor roared, his free hand clawing the air. A wall of dark energy materialized, rippling with crimson runes, blocking Draven’s path.

Draven’s blade struck it—CLANG—lightning bursting in a violent BZZZAP, the impact shaking the air, cracks spiderwebbing across the barrier.

The Emperor laughed and flicked his staff, summoning a swarm of blood-daggers that shot forward like arrows, thousands of them with their tips glinting with poison.

Draven twisted, his speed a blur, weaving through the daggers with precise, fluid steps, each miss slicing the air with a WHIP. One grazed his helm—SCRAPE—leaving a thin scar, but he countered instantly, hurling Storm Cleaver in a spinning arc—WHIRRR. The blade tore through the remaining daggers—CRASH—and slammed into the barrier, shattering it into fragments of light—BOOM. Draven recalled the sword with a snap of his wrist—ZHHH—catching it mid-air and lunging, closing the gap in a heartbeat.

The Emperor’s eyes widened, and he thrust his staff upward, unleashing a torrent of crimson flames that engulfed the street in a blazing inferno.

Draven dove through it, lightning shielding him, his armor glowing white-hot as he emerged scorched but relentless. He swung Storm Cleaver down, aiming for the Emperor’s skull.

The Emperor parried with his staff, the clash sparking a shockwave—BOOM—that leveled a nearby building, stone collapsing in a cloud of dust.

They broke apart, Draven skidding back through blood and debris, his boots carving trenches in the earth.

The Emperor staggered, exoskeleton cracked, blood dripping from his maw, but his grin remained—manic and unyielding.

“You think you can end me?!” he bellowed, slamming his staff down again—BANG. The sky pulsed, and a massive crimson sigil formed overhead, raining spears of dark energy, each one splitting the ground with explosive force—BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.

Draven moved like a storm, lightning trailing him, dodging spears with impossible speed, their impacts cratering the city around him. He vaulted over one—WHIR—and flexed his empty hand, a bolt of lightning forming like a spear. He hurled it—ZHHHAP—and it struck the Emperor’s chest—CRACK BOOM—blackening the skull marking and forcing a pained grunt.

The Emperor retaliated instantly, conjuring a blood-whip that lashed out, wrapping Draven’s arm—SNAP.

It burned, his armor sizzling—HISS—but Draven roared, yanking the whip to pull the Emperor closer—WHOOSH.

Their blades met again—CLANG-CLANG-CLANG—a flurry of blows, Draven’s greatsword a streak of lightning, the Emperor’s staff a blur of crimson.

Each strike shook the earth—BOOM-BOOM—the ruins around them shattering, walls collapsing, blood and dust swirling in a chaotic haze.

Draven ducked a staff swing—SWOOSH—and countered with an uppercut slash—SHHHING—gashing the Emperor’s exoskeleton—CRUNCH—blood spurting.

The Emperor howled, summoning a blood-wave that crashed toward Draven, who sliced through it, lightning vaporizing the tide in a burst of steam—HISS.

They clashed again, center-stage in the ruined city—Draven’s speed against the Emperor’s relentless spells.

A crimson orb grazed Draven’s side—ZZZT—tearing a chunk of armor—SCRAPE—while Draven’s blade nicked the Emperor’s arm, severing a plate of chitin.

The Emperor laughed through the pain, his crown spinning wildly as he unleashed a stronger spell—a massive blood-serpent—ROOOOAR—lunging for Draven.

Draven met it head-on, lightning surging—CRACKLE—and dove through its maw, Storm Cleaver cleaving it apart—BOOM—before charging the Emperor once more.

…

Meanwhile.

The ruined city sprawled around Arden and his battered team members, a graveyard of shattered stone and twisted metal under a sky torn open by the reddish-black hole.

Dust and red mist hung thick in the air, mingling with the acrid stench of blood and scorched mana.

Arden limped forward, his cracked mask dangling uselessly, blood crusting his face as he gripped a scavenged blade for support. Behind him, his team struggled through the debris—Gina, her dislocated arm bound tightly, wincing with every step; Marcus, clutching his shattered ribs, his breaths ragged; Jarek, dragging his mangled leg, leaving a trail of blood; Logan, propped up by Rainer, his broken arm limp; Warner, his shards orbiting sluggishly, exhaustion etched into his face; and Rainer, hobbling, his fractured hip screaming with every movement.

The ground quaked intermittently—BOOM-BOOM—as flashes of purple lightning and crimson energy lit the horizon, the clash of Draven and the Mad Emperor echoing like a storm.

Buildings crumbled in the distance—CRUMBLE—their silhouettes collapsing into clouds of dust, the sheer force of the battle reshaping the entire ruined city.

Arden’s green eyes darted toward the chaos, awe and dread warring in his chest.

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“Alister’s summon…” Warner muttered, his voice hoarse as he stared at the streaks of lightning cutting through the sky.

His shards twitched, reflecting the violet glow. “That speed, that power… it’s unreal. The dragon is tearing through everything.”

Gina nodded, her cracked mask tilting as she winced. “Yeah, but look at the damage,” she said, gesturing at a collapsed tower whose stones scattered like bones.

“One swing from that sword, and whole streets are gone. How’s a guy like Alister control something that strong?”

Marcus coughed, blood flecking his lips, but managed a grim smirk. “Control? Bet he just points it and gives orders. Still… damn glad it’s on our side.”

Jarek grunted, leaning against a broken wall. “For now. But if that thing can’t kill the Emperor, what chance do we got out here? We may be immune now, but the mist’s still crawling up my skin.”

He scratched at his arm, the red itch visible even through his torn sleeve.

Logan wheezed a laugh, his head resting against Rainer’s shoulder.

“Chance? We’re alive ’cause of luck and that dragon knight. But surviving this?” He shook his head, eyes glassy. “Gonna need more than luck.”

Rainer’s blue eyes scanned the ruins, his voice low. “We need to keep moving. Find a way out before this place collapses.”

Another explosion—BOOM—punctuated his words, a burst of crimson light flaring in the distance.

Arden tightened his grip on the blade. “Stay together,” he said. “Draven’s buying us time. We don’t waste it. We should try and approach the dungeon entrance. Once he defeats the Mad Emperor and the gate opens, we exit immediately.”

They all agreed.

They pushed forward, weaving through jagged rubble—crunch-crunch—their boots slipping on blood-slicked stone. The battle’s din grew louder—CLANG-KRA-KOOM—Draven’s lightning clashing with the Emperor’s spells, each impact shaking the ground.

But then they encountered a monster that had survived the earlier raid. The creature stood before Warner and was about to attack—but they were all too wounded to fight back.

But then, in that instant…

CLANG-KRA-KOOM

Draven instantly appeared.

A horizontal slash.

The creature froze.

In the next instant, Draven was gone.

Warner paused, staring as a building beside the creature was also split apart from the sheer force of the slash.

Draven’s silhouette darted through the air like a comet.

“Gods, he’s fast,” Warner breathed, his shards trembling with awe. “Like he’s everywhere at once. Alister’s gotta be insane to summon something that wild.”

“Insane or a genius,” Rainer muttered, helping Logan over a broken beam—creak. “Either way, we’re alive because of it.”

As they rounded a shattered plaza, a voice suddenly spoke.

“You’re all still alive. Quite the story, isn’t it? Well, I’m glad Draven followed my orders.”

Arden’s head snapped up, his team freezing mid-step. Above them, perched on a jagged spire of stone, stood a man with black hair and glowing yellow eyes. His long black coat billowed in the wind.

“Alister?!”

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