Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse - Chapter 506: • The One Who Stands Outside Fate

Chapter 506: • The One Who Stands Outside Fate

Aiku coughed, blood spattering the dirt as he forced himself upright, knees trembling beneath the weight of Alister’s assault. The air was thick with dust and mana residue, and somewhere deep within that choking haze, golden eyes still glowed—unrelenting, cold, godlike.

Desperate, Aiku cried out toward the flickering light in the air—where that radiant figure had once watched silently.

“Hlusturia!” he gasped. “What’s happening?! Why—why do his attacks keep landing? I thought you said I was fate’s chosen! The one destined to stand above all! So why… why is he just walking all over me?!”

As if summoned by despair, the golden glow shimmered violently and the divine figure—Hlusturia—materialized at his side. Wings of light curled around her form, flickering erratically. She didn’t look serene as she usually did. She looked… panicked.

“I—I don’t know,” she said, kneeling beside him with trembling hands. “This isn’t right. I’ve never seen anything like this. I tried to foresee it, tried to glimpse even a sliver of thread, but—there’s nothing.”

Aiku blinked through sweat and blood. “What do you mean, nothing?”

She met his gaze, her ethereal eyes darkened by fear. “That man… he has no strings of existence attached to him.”

“What?” Aiku rasped. “Strings of existence? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Hlusturia lowered her voice, the weight of her words heavy. “Every soul—every being born under fate—is bound by threads of destiny. Threads that determine the shape of their story… where they rise, where they fall, who they were meant to be.”

She looked toward the golden figure emerging from the haze.

“But he… Alister… he has none. He’s not guided by fate. He’s not recorded in the weave of existence. He is a being that stands outside of fate.”

The wind parted the dust like a curtain, and there he was.

Alister walked through it slowly, gold-eyed, unstoppable. Around him, massive draconic claws of light shimmered into existence—floating above him like divine instruments of judgment.

Aiku’s heart pounded. He turned to Hlusturia, voice cracking. “Why? Why him? What makes him so special? What is someone who stands outside of fate? What does that even mean?!”

But Hlusturia didn’t answer.

She only looked at Alister as one would a calamity that even the gods had not foreseen.

Hlusturia stared at Alister with trembling awe, the glow of her divine form dimmer than usual—as though her very presence flickered in the wake of something greater. Her voice was quiet but heavy with revelation.

“Only those who built the cosmos are meant to possess such autonomy—those primordial architects who existed before time and space had names. To move without strings, without fate, is to be outside the tapestry entirely. It’s a power reserved for creators. For gods above gods…”

She turned slowly to Aiku, her brows knit in confusion. “But he’s not one of them. He lacks the disposition. There’s no cosmic weight to him. No echo of eternity around him. It’s as if he was never meant to be… and yet here he is.”

Aiku’s eyes widened, fury overtaking awe. “Then if it’s strange—fix it!” he roared, lunging forward.

Before she could react, his hand snapped around her throat, lifting her slightly into the air.

“Or at least tell me what to do,” Aiku growled, blood dripping from his lips as veins bulged along his temples, “so I can fix it myself!”

Hlusturia choked, panic washing over her. “I—I’m sorry! I wasn’t prepared for this! I’ll look into it—I’ll search through his origin! Something must be there… something that explains why he exists like this!”

Aiku released her, letting her fall to her knees as he turned away, his breaths ragged but fire still burning in his eyes. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, golden cards beginning to orbit his palms in sharp, smooth arcs.

“Then do it quickly,” he muttered coldly, glaring toward Alister’s approaching figure. “I’m tired of things going like this… it’s vexing.”

The golden claws above Alister pulsed once, as though in agreement—judgment descending.

Hlusturia’s golden eyes locked with Alister’s for just a moment—only a moment—but that was all it took.

A violent shudder crawled through her divine core as her vision darkened.

Suddenly, the world around her faded into a suffocating void. She blinked—and when her sight returned, she was no longer standing beside Aiku. Instead, she hovered alone in a vast, endless darkness. The sky above was void of stars, the air silent and crushing.

Beneath her feet stretched an eerie, mirror-like floor—slick and rippling like fresh blood, though it held her weight.

Where… am I?

She thought, dread curling through her like rot.

And then—

A voice, smooth as oil but sharp as razors, echoed all around her.

“Only a fool would dare to intrude into my space. I wonder… what gave you the audacity, child of fate?”

“Has your mother sent you to die? Or is this idiocy merely wearing the mask of curiosity?”

The voice sliced into her like cold blades. Her golden glow flickered violently, her radiant form trembling.

Fear—true, soul-crushing fear—gripped her, a sensation alien even to a being like her. Her body shuddered as her divine instincts screamed flee—but there was nowhere to go.

She clutched her chest, heart thundering.

This can’t be… this is the soul sea of a mortal? How can something like this exist inside him?

But she couldn’t leave—not without answers.

She turned, steeling herself—

And suddenly a hand erupted from the darkness, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her high into the void.

The grip was inescapable, cold, ancient, and overwhelmingly powerful.

She choked, kicking violently, golden light flaring—but it was all meaningless.

Her resistance only deepened the malice in the air.

The pressure intensified. Her neck cracked faintly under the grip. Whoever—whatever—this was, it wasn’t just trying to scare her. It was insulted. It was angry at her attempt to free herself.

It was as if to say, “In my presence, your fate is what I choose, not what you desire.”

And then she saw him.

Emerging from the shadows was a figure clad in jagged black and purple armor that pulsed with a vile aura.

Silver hair fell over a sharp face, his ashen-gray eyes empty of empathy, mercy, or reason. His mouth stretched into a grin far too wide, revealing a row of fangs that dripped with madness.

He stared at her not with curiosity, but with contempt. The gaze of a god looking upon a delusional insect.

“You look confused,” he hissed, voice dripping with condescension. “Let me clarify. This is no place for light. And you, divine daughter of fate—have no right to be here.”

It was Alameck, Dragon Overlord of Ruin, and he had just found a toy to provide him with some much-needed entertainment.