Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Chapter 475: • The Wailing Void Part Four

Galisk sighs. “Another fool… chasing destruction in hopes of rebirth. Quietly take your delusions to your grave. I’m done listening to sanctimonious bullshit.”

The skies above him ignited—runes of golden flame spiraling into complex patterns, each one a divine seal forged through war and wrath.

His mecha’s chest split open, revealing a core blazing like a miniature sun, light pouring out in sacred waves that cracked the air with pressure.

The woman’s shadow tendrils recoiled, hissing as if burned. Her mask tilted slightly upward, watching with intense eyes.

Galisk’s mind was in hyperdrive.

’This isn’t just a Title, it’s that plus an Authority… It reacts, not passively defends. That “death of purpose”—it seeps into minds. Psychological warfare, not instant death. That must be her Authority, but that isn’t her Title. And the damage redirection… it only triggers after a threshold is met.’

’It’s powerful, yes… but not infinite. Not yet fatal. And it must be something tied to her Title, meaning regular attacks will be reflected somehow, meaning I’ll have to fight her with Law as well.’

’Which means… she’s no executioner. She can’t actually kill me. She’s a destabilizer. A wedge. Which begs the real question—why send a destabilizer against someone like me? And the answer is obvious: she’s supposed to weaken me for whoever will be able to finish the job.’

The golden mech raised its arm in sync with him, light particles coalescing—burning with laws forged by his lineage.

’She thinks obscurity is defense. But if I ramp up the pressure by using my Law of Judgment, she won’t be able to reflect it because it is something that makes up my being… and that wave will allow me to have a glimpse of her Title, or she’ll collapse under its own weight since the Law it embodies will fail.’

His golden eyes narrowed.

The wind screamed. Ether lines etched through the air, marking divine coordinates. The tip of the spear pointed downward toward the shadow-wreathed woman, who still stood eerily calm beneath him.

“Let’s see it then,” Galisk whispered.

His voice thundered out across the shattered city like a verdict being passed.

“By the blood of my father—reveal your truth, or be burned out of it!”

He extended a single hand.

“This envoy shall now rid you of your existence—with judgment.”

The ground shuddered. Wind howled. Civilians, now far out of the city and behind reinforced Union safe zone walls, clung to each other as heat washed over them.

The woman stood still, her shadow cloak rippling, rising to form a towering figure behind her—a formless god of void and despair.

The shadow behind her twisted, its limbs stretching unnaturally as it mimicked her form—an echo of her will given monstrous scale. Its “face” was a shifting mask of anguish, weeping void from a hundred unseen eyes.

Galisk’s gaze didn’t waver. If anything, he looked almost… disappointed.

“So that’s your counterweight,” he muttered.

The golden mecha responded to his thoughts, the radiant runes along its arms flaring brighter, synchronizing with the celestial seals above. Each rune burned with the weight of heritage—not just divine authority, but the legacy of a celestial Envoy’s bloodline.

Galisk wasn’t just some battlefield champion or front-line tactician. He was the son of a being who oversaw rulers and gods themselves, born into a House that dictated the fundamental balance between realms. Even holding back, his strikes had shattered demigods and toppled crowned pantheons.

“You threaten me with a false law,” he said, voice a calm razor. “Let me remind you what a real one looks like.”

He thrust his hand forward.

The golden core within his mecha flared wide, and with a sound like a holy bell cracking the heavens, a spear of incandescent judgment launched downward. It wasn’t just light—it was the essence of Law, carved from the script of the world’s architecture.

The void creature reeled, screaming without a mouth, shadows boiling as the laws of reality rejected its existence. The woman didn’t move. Her mask still faced him, unflinching, even as the impact zone lit up like a newborn star.

The city shook.

A dome of light erupted from the impact, vaporizing shadow as divine ether scorched the air. Buildings buckled, alarms screamed, and the very sky split in a radius as Galisk’s attack carved through the unnatural presence.

Then silence.

A ring of scorched earth formed below him, smoke and golden embers rising like mourning spirits. But still—at the epicenter—stood her.

Breathing heavily. Cracks now visible on her mask.

Her cloak was diminished, the shadow god behind her distorted and frayed. But not gone.

Galisk’s eyes narrowed further.

’She absorbed it—redirected part of the force, probably just before the threshold.’

Her fingers twitched. Blood trickled from beneath her mask.

Then she smiled.

“You almost got me,” she admitted softly, voice hoarse but amused. “But not enough.”

And then—reality cracked.

No sound. No light. Just a sudden, perfect wrongness.

Galisk blinked.

The world twisted, and without warning, he was no longer above.

He was below—standing where she had been, his feet scraping the scorched crater his own attack had left behind. Heat still radiated from the molten stone.

And she now hovered in the sky where he once stood, golden runes now dimmed beneath her silhouette.

For a heartbeat, he didn’t comprehend what had happened.

Then—pain.

Agonizing, blistering pain.

His body convulsed as golden cracks raced through his limbs. Divine laws—his own—began to reject him.

He felt the full fury of his own strike, rechanneled into himself with perfect symmetry.

Blood exploded from his mouth, splattering the blackened earth beneath.

His very existence became very unstable.

Because his law his attempted to eradicate itself.

“Impossible…” he choked, one knee buckling. His golden mech struggled to hold together, sparks of divine ether leaking from its core.

The woman giggled. It was not cruel, but… effortless, as if she found his confusion charming.

“Not impossible, son of Thl’lor,” she said, floating gently above. “You just possess a limited understanding of what is possible.”

Galisk’s vision blurred for a moment. Her figure shimmered, not from the heat—but from her existence. Whatever she was, whatever her Title truly represented, it had allowed its new law to be prioritized over his.

That shouldn’t be possible.

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