Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Nightfall Over the City

Draven stood atop a towering skyscraper, the wind whipping against his obsidian armor as he observed the city beneath him.

Neon lights flickered across the vast urban sprawl, the streets below bustling with late-night movement—humans, unaware of the silent predators now watching over them.

A golden portal crackled open beside him, its light shimmering against the steel rooftop. From within, a group of Dragon Knights emerged, each clad in the same dark, gleaming armor as Draven.

Their armor had purple streaks of energy coursing through the engraved patterns, pulsing faintly like veins. Some among them were men, others women, but all carried themselves with the same dignified manner, stepping in synchronized steps.

As the last of them stepped forward, Draven narrowed his violet eyes, his helmet disappearing to reveal his face as he spoke.

"Control your aura," he ordered. "Unless you wish to rattle the fragile minds of the humans below."

Immediately, the gathered knights suppressed their presence, their immense power withdrawing like a tide receding from the shore. Their movements became ghostly silent, blending seamlessly with the night.

Then, as one, they dropped to a knee, lowering their heads.

"We pay our greetings to the current clan head," they said in unison.

Draven rested his gauntleted hands on the hilt of his greatsword, Storm Cleaver, its tip touching the rooftop.

"I don't recall ever fulfilling the Rite of Passage," he murmured.

A female knight, her black hair tied back in a tight braid, lifted her head slightly. "You were the first called by our lord," she said with quiet certainty. "He made you commander. That is recognition enough."

Draven placed a hand under his jaw, considering.

"Logical," he thought aloud. "Then so be it. I shall be the clan head."

The Dragon Knights each placed a fist over their chests as they spoke.

"Understood. We honor our clan head."

One of the male knights, his face partially shadowed beneath his helmet, shifted slightly.

"Clan Head," he spoke, his tone both respectful and curious. "I cannot help but notice that this is a city of humans. Does our lord desire conquest? Would he have us bring them to their knees?"

Draven exhaled, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"A tempting thought," he admitted. "But no."

His expression darkened slightly, and he let his gaze sweep over the city below, as if searching for something.

"Our lord has given us a mission. Due to our superior speed and precision, we are to watch over this city and report to him any strange sightings."

Another knight, a younger one with an eager gleam in his eyes, tilted his head.

"Strange how?"

Draven's eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.

"I am certain he means evil. Something with a foul presence, perhaps. If you sense anything unnatural, anything that unsettles your instincts, report it immediately."

A female knight, her voice laced with confidence, stepped forward slightly.

"But, Clan Head, wouldn't it be far more efficient if we simply dealt with whatever it is ourselves?"

Draven let out a short chuckle, his fingers tapping against Storm Cleaver's hilt.

"No. I believe our lord wishes to handle this matter personally."

A moment of silence passed before the Dragon Knights nodded in understanding.

"Understood."

"Good. Move out."

In a single instant, the knights vanished—darting across the cityscape with impossible speed, becoming nothing more than fleeting shadows against the neon-lit skyline.

....

....

Alister strode through the quiet corridors of the guild's medical wing as he approached the room where his team waited.

As he neared, voices could be heard through the partially open door.

"She hasn't moved at all," Beatrice said with worry. "Her vitals are stable, but she hasn't shown any signs of waking up."

Anzo exhaled sharply. "We should be out there hunting those things down, not standing around waiting," he said, a bit frustrated, but there was a small tremble in his voice—one that gave away his concern.

Blitz then spoke. "And do what? Pick fights with something we don't understand? You saw what happened to those union officers. If we rush in blind, we'll just end up in the same position."

Axel, leaning against the far wall, ran a hand through his hair before letting out a dry chuckle. "Still, sitting around like this feels like shit."

Miyu remained silent, standing near the bed where Lila lay. Her arms were crossed, her expression unreadable, but her golden eyes were locked on Lila's unconscious body.

Alister stepped inside, his presence instantly drawing their attention. The weight in the room shifted as the team straightened, their expressions ranging from relief to expectation.

Miyu turned her head slightly, acknowledging him first. "Took you long enough."

Alister's gaze moved past them, landing on Lila. The young healer lay motionless against the white sheets, her brown hair splayed across the pillow, her face pale. If not for the steady rise and fall of her chest, she could have been mistaken for—

He cut the thought off before it could take root.

"How is she?"

Beatrice shook her head. "Physically? Except for the bandages on her shoulder, there's nothing wrong. No wounds, no signs of infection. But…" She hesitated. "She won't wake up. I've tried everything. It's like she's trapped in something deeper."

Alister narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to the bed.

He stood over Lila, his sharp gaze taking in every detail—the slow rise and fall of her chest, the paleness of her skin, the way her fingers remained still against the sheets. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of brown hair from her face, his fingers barely grazing her skin. Cold.

A deep frown settled on his face.

Blitz shifted beside him, unable to stand the silence. "So what do we do, Alister?" Her voice was tight, frustration barely contained. "Because if you're gonna say 'wait and see,' I swear to god—"

"We're not waiting," Alister cut in, his voice firm.

Blitz exhaled sharply, but she nodded, some of the tension in her shoulders easing.

Anzo crossed his arms. "Then what's the plan?"

Alister spoke calmly. "The plan is that I'm going to heal her with my blood."

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then—

"What?!"