Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Chapter 121: Sudden Change Of Plans



Chapter 121: Sudden Change Of Plans

Chapter 121: Sudden Change Of Plans

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Now, Hazerion was thrust into a battle for the throne against his beloved brother because his people believed in him. He couldn't abandon them without disgracing his father's legacy. He had hoped that once the duel between the generals concluded, he could lose his match to his brother and die with the least disgrace possible.

He was confident that his brother, a genius, would find a way to deal with the darkness once he was gone.

But part of him felt guilty for wanting to die and leave it all behind. He saw how desperately his people clung to life, hoping he would save them, while he was ready to throw his own life away. So, he sought another way to grow stronger, which led him to seek tRestriat. Ironically, he needed to become an overlord before the question of his worthiness could even be considered.

In the end, he was conflicted.

There was no way out, no answer in sight, and he was gradually losing his will to live, though he hid it well. Questions about his progress in getting stronger only felt like jabs, deepening this feeling even further.

Hazerion's hands slowly clenched into fists, his gaze hardening as he processed the guard's words. The conflicted emotions that had been visible moments ago were now replaced with a serious expression.

"How many of them?" Hazerion asked, his voice firm, though there was an

Undeniable touch of anger.

"Thousands, my lord," the guard answered, rising to his feet. "They came without warning, overwhelming the outer defenses. The city is in chaos."

Kaelan stepped forward, "My lord, we need to act quickly. The defenses within the city won't hold for long against the force of his generals along with an army of that size."

Hazerion nodded, his expression darkening as he considered the dire situation.

"Sound the alarm. Mobilize every available rider. We need to push them back before they reach the inner walls."

The guard saluted sharply and turned to leave, but Hazerion stopped him with a raised hand. "And ensure the citizens are taken to safety. We cannot afford unnecessary casualties."

"Yes, my lord!" the guard replied before sprinting out of the treasury, his footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Kaelan looked at Hazerion and said, "My lord, now that things have come to this, you have to make up your mind. Do you wish to protect your people, or do you wish to spare the life of your brother?"

His question caused Hazerion to visibly tense up.

Kaelan bowed slightly to Hazerion before turning and rushing out of the treasury. The situation was serious, and every second was important. As he sprinted through the corridor, his mind raced with thoughts of the battle, the chaos that was about to unfold, and the choices Hazerion had to make.

The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows against the stone walls. The sound of Kaelan's armored boots echoed through the corridor as he moved. He turned a corner sharply, moving in a rush when suddenly-

Thud.

Kaelan collided with something soft, and a startled scream escaped the figure he had run into. He realized he had bumped into a young dragonkin maid, who had been carrying a stack of linens that now lay scattered across the floor.

"I'm terribly sorry!"

Kaelan immediately apologized, extending a hand to help her up. The maid, who appeared flustered but was unharmed, accepted his hand. Her silver hair flowed down her back, and her dragon-like horns curled elegantly from her head. She seemed more surprised than anything.

"T-thank you," she murmured as she rose to her feet, her golden eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

Kaelan nodded, quickly gathering the scattered linens and placing them back in her arms. "My apologies again, but I must hurry."

With that, he continued on his way, not allowing himself to linger. However, as he sped off down the corridor, the dragon maid's eyes followed him, a confused expression crossing her face.

In her right eye, a faint golden light slowly emerged, a small clock appearing within it for just

a split second. She blinked, trying to make sense of what she had sensed.

"How odd..."

"I sense a time anomaly..."

"Is it him? Did he really..."

...

Kaelan quickened his pace but refrained from running at full speed within the halls of his lord's home.

Passing by maids and guards, he eventually reached the citadel's massive doors and pushed them open. The sight that awaited him was anything but chaotic.

His eyes immediately fell on the other generals standing in the corridor, all their gazes fixed on Hamerion. Hamerion stood on the head of one of his dragon generals, a black drake who was in their dragon form and hovering in the air. Surrounding him were his nine other generals, along with both riders and riderless lesser dragons, all hovering in the air as well. Hamerion, their lord, had long black hair held together by a hairpin, pair of golden horns curved upwards, with some strands at the front streaked with silver. He wore robes of white, black, and gold, with golden accessories. His golden dragon eyes were sharper than Hazerion's, and the aura around him commanded respect. His shoulders were squared, his chest out, and the emotionless look on his face further enhanced his commanding presence.

It was clear to anyone without needing to be told that the man standing before them was more of an Overlord than the lord they currently served.

Hamerion spoke, his voice more commanding than his brother's. "It seems you've all gathered. Good. All that remains now is my useless brother."

Vaelor boiled with anger, the earth beneath him heating up, nearly melting as he responded.

"How dare you speak that way abo-"

"Watch your tone, Ember-Void, or else I'll send you to meet your ancestors. I'm here for my brother. The rest of you should stay out of this-"

"Oh, is that so? What special occasion could possibly drive you to run to my home like this, brother?" A voice echoed behind Vaelor and the others, causing all of them to turn their heads to the source.


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