Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Chapter 491: • Every Scale Earned

She let out a mock roar and lunged at him, her talons clicking against the ground.

Alister stepped back just in time, laughing as she swiped playfully at his cloak, missing it by inches. Her tail lashed with exaggerated menace, her posture all drama and no real threat.

“Take it back!” she demanded, grinning now.

“I take it back,” he said, holding his hands up again, still grinning. “You look… decent.”

She narrowed her eyes again.

“Fine, fine,” he relented. “You look incredible. Honestly. You did it.”

Her teasing faded for a second, a flush rising faintly to her cheeks as the gravity of his words hit. She looked down at her hands—her claws—then back up at him, a quiet smile blooming in place of her earlier smirk.

“Thanks,” she said, softer this time.

He nodded. “You earned it, Miyu. Every scale.”

They stood in silence for a beat, just the wind whispering through the trees, carrying the scent of moss and moonlight. For the first time in what felt like forever, Miyu didn’t feel like she was chasing shadows.

She felt like she was finally catching up to them.

While Miyu remained absorbed in admiring her transformation—twisting her tail this way and that, tracing the jagged patterns of her new scales with wide-eyed wonder—Alister’s gaze drifted toward the corner of his vision.

⫷『Your House Mythos has slightly decreased.』⫸

⫷『Reason: Escalating rumors and conflicting reports regarding the incident at Megacity I.』⫸

Alister let out a quiet sigh.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a message like this—and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Ever since this conflict with House Oboros had begun, these system notifications had started appearing more frequently.

They were called “House Mythos,” a strange classification he hadn’t known existed until that war began. From what he’d gathered, it wasn’t a skill, a stat, or even a traditional power. It was subtler. Stranger.

It was reputation—refined and twisted into something metaphysical.

At first, he’d dismissed it as fluff—another flashy label the system liked to throw around.

But then he began noticing something: the more his House Mythos grew, the stronger his presence felt in the city.

The more weight his name carried. Some called it charisma, others called it influence.

But as his reputation increased, so did the baseline strength of his abilities and that of his dragons.

But when Oboros began striking, creating human puppets like that one from the press conference to attempt spreading rumors about him, he began to understand what they were.

Mythos, as it turned out, wasn’t just how people thought of you. It was how the world itself recorded you.

It was your legend, coded into the system of reality like some divine metadata.

It was what determined if one’s law would be prioritized over another.

Yes.

Alister came to learn that part of the reason his father was driven to such a state was the fact his law was disregarded and turned on itself—something that shouldn’t have been possible, since all laws were statements by the Celestials. But that masked woman called it Frame of Reference.

That was only part of the truth.

The rest had to do with the vastly different ranks of their Mythos.

And the more people believed in your greatness—or your monstrosity—the more the system acknowledged and empowered that idea.

It was how beings like that masked woman could match his father despite him being far stronger than her.

And now, with stories spreading like wildfire in the wake of the Megacity I incident, even the tiniest ripple of doubt—of fear—could be weaponized.

Because having no reputation was better than having one that downplayed the strength of your House.

Rumors didn’t just tarnish—it redefined.

To the world, to the system, to the fundamental forces that weighed Mythos like currency and divine law. Even if the people whispering were powerless, their voices still stacked like grains of sand against a scale. And the scale always listened.

It was part of the reason the dragons were nearly wiped out from existence by the darkness… House Oboros in the past.

Because the dragon god’s fall already depicted dragons as weak against it.

And when that narrative took root—when the cosmos and the other beings that once feared the dragon god began to believe it—it became truth. Not metaphorically. Literally.

And their repeated fall only solidified it.

Even the strongest dragons, whose flames could scorch through void-beasts and whose roars shattered mountains, found their power waning, stuttering under the weight of belief.

Because Oboros’ law was prioritized over theirs.

Because belief, once acknowledged by the system, could overwrite essence.

And now, Alister stood at the cusp of that same cycle.

The fall of one dragon god had rewritten an entire species.

It was part of the reason he had taken an interest in that mention of Re-Evolution magic that Quinton made, because only by being something else and shedding away their current limitations would they finally win this war.

But before that, they couldn’t let Oboros use this as a way to weaken them before the battle.

One might wonder why, despite being far more powerful, the head of House Oboros hadn’t wiped them out for so long.

Well, them being alive was still necessary for the final part of his plan.

They still haven’t gotten their blood, after all.

Alister clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing slightly as he closed the notification.

He wouldn’t let Oboros twist perception to such a degree again.

“Miyu,” he called gently.

She looked up from admiring her reflection in a pool of still water—startled, blinking. “Huh?”

“Let’s get moving. I want to be back at the guild before daybreak. I need to make an announcement.”

She tilted her head, a playful glint still in her eyes. “Aw, and here I thought you were enjoying the break.”

“I was,” he admitted, starting toward the worn stone path. “But breaks don’t last. Not for us.”

Miyu fell into step beside him, her tail swinging behind her, the faint shimmer of her scales catching the light.

Miyu glanced sideways at him, her claws tapping a light rhythm on her hip as they walked. “So,” she asked, her voice light with curiosity, “what’s this big announcement you’re planning, oh fearless leader?”

Alister smiled, eyes fixed ahead. “We’re going to reveal our identities,” he said simply. “As the children of the Union President.”

Miyu blinked. Then a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face. “Ohhhh? So it’s finally time for us to show off, huh? Guess you got tired of being treated like some public guild officer and are now gunning to be treated like a king.”

Alister let out a dry chuckle, giving her a sidelong glance. “You know,” he said, “sometimes I really wonder if we’re actually the same age.”

She puffed up indignantly. “Hey! I was in a hospital bed for years, thank you very much. Forgive me if I don’t possess the same level of social intelligence as a certain show-off dragon summoner.”

Alister gave her a look—somewhere between amusement and affection. “Fair enough,” he said. “But just so you know, I’m not doing this for status. It’s about control. Oboros is building a myth… and if we don’t counter it with a stronger one, we’ll lose before the real battle even starts.”

Miyu’s smile softened, her joking tone fading into something more serious. “Then let’s make sure they remember who we are.”

He nodded. “Exactly. It’s time the world knew whose children we really are.”

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