Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Chapter 482: • That Human Again

Alister let out a long sigh, his breath catching slightly in the cooling air. He shook his head with a hint of exhaustion, his gaze lingering on the crystal cube.

“What a fool,” he muttered, almost to himself.

A moment of silence followed—until a familiar voice echoed in his mind.

‘A fool… isint he… but then, aren’t you a bigger fool for humouring him though?’

Alameck’s voice teased. ‘But I guess it can’t be your fault, brother. Father like son, they say.’

Alister’s jaw tightened, but he offered no response. He simply closed his eyes for a moment, choosing silence over feeding his brother’s games.

Instead, his attention shifted to Terra, standing nearby.

“Keep trying,” Alister said calmly, his tone softer now. “Don’t stop just because they failed.”

Terra gave a sharp nod. “Understood, my lord.”

She adjusted her glasses, the light glinting off the lenses as she tapped her tablet. “Well, beyond that—speaking of humans, that one from a while ago, Quinton… he wishes to speak with you.”

Cinder narrowed her eyes, her lips curling downward into an irritated frown.

“You mean that human?” she said sharply. “The one who dared to make demands of Lord Alister?”

Terra didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

“Then we ignore him,” Cinder snapped immediately, folding her arms with a huff.

Alister chuckled softly, the sound low and amused. “I can’t do that, Cinder. Ignoring him would mean my words carry no weight. And as the Lord of Dragons, my word must always carry weight.”

Cinder sighed, her fiery gaze still smoldering. “I don’t like him. He’s far too arrogant… for a human.”

Alister smirked, turning slightly in her direction. “Then you can stay back here while I go meet him.”

Cinder huffed, clearly displeased with the situation. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice low but with disdain. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. That human reeks of schemes. I’d trust a pile of ash over him.”

Alister gave her a sideways glance, lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Your caution is appreciated, Cinder. But I’m not meeting him out of trust. I’m meeting him out of principle.”

She looked away, clearly irritated but unwilling to argue further.

Terra, adjusting her glasses again with a calm composure that contrasted Cinder’s fiery disposition, stepped closer. “Shall I escort you to him, my lord? He’s waiting just outside the city gates. He didn’t come alone.”

Alister raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Brought backup, did he?”

“A pair of cloaked companions,” Terra confirmed. “But they seem more like the humans he spoke to you about you protecting, although they may also be guards. He’s the only one who asked to speak with you directly.”

Alister paused for a moment, eyes narrowing in thought. Then, with a casual motion, he waved his hand. “Very well. Let’s not keep him waiting. Cinder, stay here, alright.”

Cinder interrupted with a snarl, “I’ll be watching, if he tries anything… burn them all.”

Alister chuckled again, though there was a subtle edge in his eyes—amused. “I doubt he woke want to act so arrogant while standing before a city filled with dragons.”

With a dramatic roll of her eyes and another disapproving sigh, Cinder turned her back, the long crimson coils of her hair whipping behind her as she stormed off.

Terra and Alister walked side by side through the stone corridors of the dragon castle. Warm sunlight poured in from the open arches, casting shifting patterns across the floor from the towering banners that hung proudly from the walls—each one depicting a different drwhin rowyl bloodline, each one stitched with gold and fire.

As they walked, Alister’s mind drifted back to the voice from earlier—Alameck’s voice. That mocking tone always struck a nerve, not just because of the words, but because of how true they were.

‘Aren’t you the bigger fool for humouring him, though? But I guess it’s not your fault, brother. Father like son, they say.’

He said nothing in return, even now. Letting Alameck’s words float in the back of his mind like smoke.

He had more important matters to deal with. Still… the words stung, because he actually cared for the man.

…

…

When they reached the city gate, Terra gestured forward. “He’s just ahead.”

Alister then knocked fur the gates to be opened.

And slowly they began to creak open.

Outside, the wind carried a whisper of tension—Quinton stood in the clearing, leaning against a carved stone post with his arms crossed.

The two cloaked figures flanked him, watching silently. One of them carried a greatsword across his back, the other bore faint magical runes etched into her exposed gloves.

Quinton looked up the moment Alister stepped through the arch. “Lord Alister,” he greeted, tone polite but not submissive. “I appreciate you agreeing to meet me.”

Alister studied him in silence for a moment, then stepped out slowly, arms at his sides, posture regal and measured, behind him stepped out a dozen dragon knights in black armour. “Most humans would’ve never attempted to meet me again after what they witnessed that night, after being scolded by one of my generals. You’re either brave, or very foolish.”

Quinton offered a faint smirk. “I’ve been called both, usually in the same breath. Besides, we he’d a deal no?”

“Mm,” Alister said, a single step away now. “You’ve made quite the impression.”

“Is that a compliment or a warning?”

Alister tilted his head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The two stared at one another in silence for a moment. The dragon lord’s gaze was piercing, testing. Quinton didn’t flinch. That alone said a lot.

Alister’s sharp eyes flicked over Quinton again—truly studied him this time.

The young man wore a sleek, close-fitted outfit of black and dark blue, almost military in its cut but far more stylish. A high-collared coat flared slightly at the ends, the deep black fabric offset by blue trim and silver clasps that glinted in the sun. On the back of the coat, clearly visible as the wind tugged at the fabric, was a silver emblem—a gear with a single eye etched into its center. It pulsed faintly, as though more than just symbolic.

His white gloves were pristine, fingers flexing slightly with a subconscious sort of readiness. There was precision in the way he stood, not like a warrior, but like someone used to commanding systems—someone used to controlling outcomes.

But what drew Alister’s attention next were the two figures flanking him.

At first glance, they seemed human—one tall, bearing a greatsword across his back, the other slimmer, fingers lined with faintly glowing magical runes. But as Alister’s gaze narrowed, he caught the subtle details: the slight hum of their bodies, the unnatural symmetry of their movements, and the faint gleam of synthetic joints beneath the high collars and armor plates.

‘Andriods,’ Alister thought, his brow furrowing slightly. Not summoned beasts, not golems—but highly advanced automatons, almost indistinguishable from humans unless scrutinized closely.

Terra remained near the gate, arms folded, eyes watching closely. She was curious, but not interfering. Quinton’s companions tensed slightly as Alister approached, but they didn’t draw weapons. Smart move.

Alister finally broke the silence. “What is it you want, Quinton?”

Quinton’s smirk faded slightly, replaced with a calm, measured seriousness. “The same thing I wanted before, Lord Alister. A partnership.”

Alister arched a brow. “You walked into my lands, demanded aid, and spoke as though you were my equal. That’s not how one forms a partnership.”

“No,” Quinton admitted. “But I wasn’t trying to flatter you, I was trying to be honest. I believe there’s something coming—something none of us can handle alone. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?”

Alister’s gaze narrowed, his eyes briefly flicking toward the sky. The wind shifted, carrying with it the faint scent of mana distortion—subtle, but present. Something unnatural stirred in the world.

“I’ve sensed… ripples,” Alister admitted. “But you’re still assuming much. Tell me, Quinton, what makes you think you’re the one worth allying with?”

Quinton gestured loosely behind him, toward his companions. “Because I’ve seen the future once. And in that future, the world burns. Not just human kingdoms, not just elf forests or dwarven holds—everything. Even your dragons were swept away.”

Quinton took a slow breath, then stepped forward. “I know a way to prevent that future. A path that gets me what I want… and gives you something you’ve always wanted too.”

Alister’s eyes narrowed slightly, not out of anger, but curiosity.

But then—suddenly—his aura exploded outward like a tidal wave of raw pressure.

The ground beneath them cracked. The wind howled. Quinton dropped to one knee instantly, the force slamming into him like a mountain of heat and weight.

Behind Alister, the dragon knights stepped forward, armor rattling as if resonating with their lord’s unleashed presence.

“I agreed to protect you and your people, Quinton,” Alister said coldly. “Don’t push your luck with me.”

Quinton coughed once, then chuckled breathlessly, his eyes glinting with amusement even as sweat beaded down his brow. “It’s not like that. I’m not trying to challenge you… I’m not being arrogant.”

He slowly rose to his feet. “This really is something that benefits us both. And honestly—only you are strong enough to even make it possible.”

Alister’s aura vanished, just like that. The suffocating pressure lifted. The dragon knights stepped back again, their discipline impeccable.

“…What is it?” Alister asked.

Quinton dusted off his coat, then gestured with two fingers as though conjuring an image in the air. “I need your help retrieving a relic—hidden in the Ruined Temple of a Dead God. It’s buried in the depths of the Hollow Scarlands, and trust me when I say, there’s nothing holy about what’s left in that place.”

Alister’s expression darkened. “I’ve heard of that temple. I have no interest in chasing myths through cursed ruins, Quinton.”

Quinton grinned. “Fair. But the temple doesn’t just hold the relic I need—it also holds a fragment of a weapon… one that you might find worth the trouble.”

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