Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Chapter 463: • The Portal’s Breach

The afternoon air outside the Crimson Red Gate in Sector IV buzzed, the portal’s crimson glow casting bloodlight across the cordoned-off street.

Reporters huddled behind barricades, their cameras flashing—click-click—while drones whirred overhead—bzzz—capturing the gate’s hypnotic shimmer. Civilians were still present today as well, pressed against the barriers, those same signs in their hands—”CLOSE THE GATES,” “SAVE OUR CITY.”

Members of the Red Phoenix Guild stood vigilant in their white and red uniforms, their faces taut, hands resting on weapons.

Naomi stood, arms folded, and stared at the portal with a scowl, while Elias, with his grim expression, scanned the crowd, his fingers twitching near his sword hilt.

The portal pulsed suddenly—WHMMM—its crimson surface rippling violently, and a sharp SCRAAAAPE echoed, like claws raking stone.

Jagged black claws split the gate’s center, glowing with a strange golden voidlight, as if something were prying it open from within.

The crowd gasped, civilians stumbling back, reporters shouting into mics—”It’s happening!”—as the drones veered wildly—bzzzzt. Naomi’s hand snapped to her blade, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“Weapons up!” she barked, the guild members drawing swords and guns—clank-shick—forming a defensive line.

Elias’s face paled, his voice dropped low. “No way… Claws? If monsters are coming out… Did the guildmaster and his team fail? Fuck! The dungeon’s breaking.”

Before Naomi could respond, a massive shockwave erupted from the portal—BOOOOM—a deafening roar of mana that shattered nearby windows—CRASH—and sent a gust of wind tearing through the street, kicking up dust and debris—WHOOSH.

Civilians screamed, shielding their faces; reporters ducked, cameras toppling—thud; guild members braced, their uniforms flapping wildly.

Naomi squinted against the blinding light, her blade raised, while Elias gripped his sword, muttering,

“Damn it, not again…” The portal’s tear widened—RIIIIP—and figures staggered out, silhouetted against the crimson gate’s glow.

The crowd froze, breaths hitched, as the dust settled, revealing Arden and his team—battered but alive. Arden slowly stepped forward, shielding his face from the blinding sunlight, his scavenged blade dragging against the asphalt.

Blood and dirt crusted his face. Behind him, his teammates emerged: Gina, her eyes wide; Marcus, scanning the crowd; Jarek, a bit tense; Logan, standing tall… with a bit of a smug smile though.

Warner, relieved, and Rainer, moving freely. They looked weary, but whole—kinda strange for a team that had gone into an SS-ranked gate, but they were okay, and that was what mattered.

The crowd erupted—gasps, cheers, reporters scrambling to their feet, shouting questions—”They’re back!” “They survived!”—as drones swooped in—bzzz.

Naomi lowered her blade, her jaw dropping. “Guildmaster…?” she whispered, disbelief and shock softening her sharp expression.

Elias exhaled, a shaky laugh escaping him. “Son of a… they did it?”

But then another figure stepped through the portal—THUD—his long black coat billowing under the bloodlight.

Alister. His golden eyes gleamed, reptilian slits narrowing as he surveyed the chaos.

The portal snapped shut behind him—SHHHK—its crimson light fading, leaving only silence and the weight of his presence.

The crowd fell hushed, civilians staring, reporters hesitating, their cameras trained on the Dragon Lord.

Guild members exchanged confused glances. How did a member of the White Comets come out of a dungeon with their guildmaster and his team? they all thought, hands still on their weapons but less tense now.

Naomi’s eyes flicked between Arden and Alister, her voice low. “Arden… you made it?”

Elias exhaled, a grin breaking through. “Hell yeah, guildmaster! But what is the Dragon Lord doing here?”

Civilians gaped, signs drooping. Reporters froze, then exploded into chatter—”The Dragon Lord!” “He was inside?”—cameras swiveling.

Guild members exchanged shocked glances, weapons lowering. Naomi’s jaw tightened, her voice low. “Alister… the dragon summoner was with them?”

Elias whistled softly. “Didn’t see that coming… how did that even happen?”

Arden met Naomi’s gaze, nodding wearily. “He got us out,” he said, loud enough for the guild to hear, his voice raw but steady.

The crowd buzzed—”Dragon Lord?” “Saved them?”—as reporters surged, mics thrusting forward.

Gina muttered, “Great, a circus,” while Marcus smirked, eyeing Alister.

Alister sighed as he looked at the tired Arden. “Enough,” he said. “Since you and your team are back… guildmaster. The dungeon will be handled…” He paused, his smirk fading.

“Now that this is done, I’m on my way. Got a boss to deal with.”

Before anyone could react, he turned back to the sealed portal, flexing his scaled hands—crackle. “Void Rend,” he murmured, claws slashing the air—SCRAAAAPE. The gate tore open again—RIIIIP—a voidlit gash forming instantly.

He stepped through without looking back, the portal snapping shut—SHHHK—behind him, leaving a stunned void in his wake.

The crowd went silent, then exploded.

Reporters shouted into mics—”Did he say deal with the boss?” “He went back inside?”—cameras panning wildly. Civilians whispered, awestruck—”Dragon Lord’s fighting it?” “By himself?” Guild members gaped, Naomi muttering, “If the boss is still alive… they walked out of an uncleared dungeon?”

Elias shook his head, incredulous. “That’s… impossible.”

A reporter’s voice cut through, breathless: “If Alister, the Dragon Lord, is facing the boss alone, does that mean Arden’s team survived an SS-ranked dungeon before it was cleared? This could rewrite everything we know about Gates!”

Warner sighed, rubbing his neck, looking drained. “Fuck, guildmaster, you’re gonna have a lot of explaining to do.”

Arden sighed, his shoulders slumping as he glanced at his team, then the frenzied crowd. “You want that for all of us?” he muttered, voice dry but heavy, the weight of their survival—and Alister’s shadow—pressing harder as reporters closed in, questions flying like arrows.

A reporter shoved forward, her red mic trembling. “Guildmaster Arden! You walked out of an SS-ranked dungeon before it was cleared—how? And the Dragon Lord—did he save you? Is he fighting the boss alone?”

Arden’s jaw tightened, his green eyes flicking to his team. He raised a hand, trying to stem the tide. “We’re alive,” he said, voice hoarse but firm, cutting through the noise. “That’s what matters. The rest… we’ll sort out later.”

The reporter pressed closer. “But Alister—the Dragon Lord—said the boss is still alive! How did you escape? What happened in there?”

Gina muttered under her breath, “Persistent, aren’t they?” as she stepped closer to Arden, her eyes narrowing at the crowd. Marcus snorted, folding his arms. “They smell a story. Good luck shutting ’em up, boss.”

Naomi pushed through the guild line, her voice sharp. “Back off!” she snapped, glaring at the reporters. “Give them space—they just crawled out of hell.” The reporters hesitated, but their cameras kept rolling, drones hovering closer—bzzz.

Elias joined her, his gruff tone softer as he addressed Arden. “You okay, guildmaster? Look like you’ve been through a war.”

“Feel like it too,” Arden said, managing a faint, tired smirk. “But we’re here. Thanks to… him.” His eyes drifted to where the portal had been, Alister’s scaled armor and slitted gaze lingering in his mind.

The crowd buzzed louder, civilians chanting—”Dragon Lord! Dragon Lord!”—their awe for Alister drowning out the guild’s return. A civilian shouted, “He’s gonna kill that boss, right? He’s gotta!” Another waved a sign: “ALISTER SAVES US ALL.”

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