Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse - Chapter 473: • The Wailing Void Part Two
Chapter 473: • The Wailing Void Part Two
Suddenly—crack-crack-crack—dozens of tendrils of darkness shot outward from the crater, faster than bullets, twisting midair like sentient webs. They didn’t go for Galisk directly. No—these were strategic, calculated.
Like thick strands of oily spider silk, they latched onto nearby buildings—shattered towers, broken antenna spires, even the skeleton of a collapsed stadium. And then—
Snap.
They pulled.
The tendrils coiled around Galisk’s massive mech, locking its limbs in place with violent force. Like a trap sprung by a beast of nightmares, the shadowy cords strained and creaked, trying to bind the golden giant midair.
Galisk’s golden eyes narrowed as the mecha shuddered against the pressure.
“Tch…” he muttered, teeth grinding. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
A pulse of light surged from within the cockpit.
The mecha shattered apart—then reassembled instantly, shifting like liquid gold as parts warped and reformed to adapt.
The tendrils tore against shifting armor plates, only to find themselves stuck to rapidly shifting geometry. Galisk forced the suit forward, the giant igniting its engines and plowing through the resistance, pieces of black silk snapping away like overstretched wire.
“You might have power,” he growled, his voice booming through loudspeakers, “but your aesthetics could use some work.”
With that, all four of his golden swords spun up, radiant cores glowing red-hot, and came crashing down in unison.
They struck the crater like judgment itself.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each impact blew apart pavement, shattered foundation layers, and buried the crater beneath mountains of stone and radiant force.
Dust and ash filled the air, a golden glow radiating from the impact zone like the aftermath of a divine execution.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then—click-click—a signal from Galisk’s comm buzzed.
“—Sir, are you reading? Status?”
Galisk hovered above the smoking pit, armor steaming, jaw clenched.
“…Still alive,” he muttered. “But I doubt she’s down for good.”
A chilling silence blanketed the city for half a breath—then, like the whisper of death itself, a voice echoed from the smoke.
“You overestimate yourself… Son of Thl’lor.”
The temperature dropped.
Galisk’s golden mech froze midair, sensors flickering as an oppressive weight pressed against the atmosphere itself.
Then—woosh—the shadows in the pit stirred.
Not just stirred—they bloomed, like a flower of pure void unfolding from the crushed earth. Black mist curled out, swallowing the golden glow like ink dropped into water. The ground beneath the crater began to twist and crack—reality itself distorting as if refusing to obey the laws of physics.
Galisk narrowed his eyes.
“…There it is.”
From within the vortex of shadows, she rose again.
Her robes were tattered at the hem but flowing as if untouched by gravity. The skull mask remained, still unmarred. Her horns glinted, and those violet eyes—calm, sharp, merciless—locked onto him once more.
This time, the shadows behind her took form.
Dozens of tendrils, now shaped like grasping arms, hung from the air like a marionette’s web, twitching with eerie rhythm.
“You mistake endurance for victory,” she said, her voice serene and cold. “You burn so brightly, Galisk. But even stars must die.”
She raised her hand.
And the sky darkened further.
“No weather changes in my city,” Galisk growled, snapping his fingers.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM.
Golden explosions erupted across the sky, detonating in brilliant, divine patterns. The blackened clouds tore apart like tissue, and in their place, the sun blazed through, fierce and holy, bathing the city in searing gold.
“If this is really your best attempt to kill me,” Galisk shouted, voice booming from within his mecha, “*then you’ll be dying a very horrible death—very soon.”
The horned woman leapt back, shadows rippling at her feet, putting distance between them.
Galisk swung his massive golden blades like a tempest.
CRACK! She twisted midair, wrapped her arm in shadow, and punched the first blade head-on, shattering it in a burst of molten fragments. One blazing chunk spiraled out, crashing into a residential high-rise—
BOOM!
Civilians screamed from within as Union officers shouted orders, guiding panicked families through falling glass and dust.
“Keep moving! We’ve got a breach on the 12th floor!”
“Medic! Someone get a goddamn medic up here!”
Galisk didn’t stop. Another swing. Another shattered blade. She danced between each strike, her silhouette warping unnaturally, defying the weight and momentum of the world.
Then—
A calm voice came from behind her.
“You know… I’m curious,” the voice said, dry and cutting. “Who would be bold enough to send a creature like you to kill me?”
Her eyes widened. She tried to pivot, twisting into a shadow step.
Too late.
WHAM!
Galisk’s gold-plated foot slammed into her side, launching her through the air like a cannonball. She tore through the corner of a tower, then exploded through the building’s far side in a spray of debris.
She didn’t stop.
A blur of black.
She streaked back across the skyline, ignoring the pain, eyes locked on him.
Golden spikes erupted from the ground, a forest of divine lances meant to impale.
She slithered between them, flipping midair, then conjured a sleek shadow blade from her palm.
She drove it forward—right into Galisk’s chest.
Only—
His body faded.
Lost color. Lost shape.
Broke into particles of light.
A voice whispered beside her ear.
“Your sense of the battlefield is absolute shit.”
She turned, sharp and fast—
And was kicked in the gut.
Hard.
She rocketed into the sky, blood trailing from her mouth.
Before she could stabilize—
WHAM.
The golden mecha’s titanic hand swatted her from the air, pounding her down like a bug beneath a hammer.
The shockwave leveled a small block. Dust and debris cascaded. Officers shielded evacuees, while drones scrambled to update aerial maps.
Galisk hovered above the crater, golden aura burning brighter than ever.
“Let me guess…” he muttered. “You’re going to get back up again?”
Suddenly, her voice echoed through the collapsing skyline.
“You aren’t the only one with tricks… Son of Thl’lor.”
Reality shuddered.
A momentary glitch, like the world blinked sideways—and then it snapped back.
CRASH!
Galisk’s body slammed into the earth, driven down by the very force of his own colossal mecha—the same strike he’d just delivered seconds ago.
Dust and shattered concrete erupted around him as the ground caved in, forming a fresh crater in the heart of the city. Emergency sirens shrieked anew, and the evacuating crowds froze in horror at the godlike clash continuing above them.
Galisk groaned, blood spilling from his lips as he pushed himself upright from the wreckage.
He spat to the side, clearing his mouth with a grunt, golden light flickering wildly around him.
His golden eyes locked onto the figure now standing exactly where he’d been just moments earlier—the horned woman cloaked in shadows.
Unscathed.
Her violet eyes glowed brighter than ever, and shadow tendrils danced around her like serpents caught in an invisible current.
Galisk narrowed his gaze, a grimace tugging at his jaw.
“There it is again…” he muttered under his breath, bracing as his mech realigned itself behind him. “That strange… Authority. You’re distorting the timeline, aren’t you?”
The winds shifted. The sun above flickered—just for a breath.
And then… silence, just long enough to make the next move unbearable.
She stood tall amidst the flickering shadows, her voice smooth yet almost mournful—like a funeral bell given form.
“And like I’ve told you, Son of Thl’lor…” she said, stepping forward as black tendrils peeled off her robes and curled like smoke across the broken ground. “It’s not time I distort… it’s the death of purpose.”
