Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Chapter 502: • Interrupted Divine Wager

Suddenly, a massive explosion of mana erupted from Aiku.

BOOM!

The sheer force blasted outward in a radiant shockwave, cracking the pavement and tearing through the wreckage like a divine tempest. Anya was flung backward, skidding across the rubble-strewn street with a grunt, as she collided with a broken pillar.

Coughing through the dust, she forced herself to sit up—only for the air around her to grow eerily still.

A voice—ethereal, distant, yet everywhere at once—echoed across the battlefield.

“What are you willing to wager?”

Anya’s head snapped around. The voice wasn’t Aiku’s. It wasn’t anyone’s she recognized. It was disembodied, layered with power and a whisper of something ancient—like an oracle speaking from the void.

She looked around frantically, her crimson eyes scanning the ruins.

“Wha—Who said that?!” she shouted, rising shakily to her feet.

Aiku didn’t flinch. He stood tall, golden mana crackling at his back, the massive celestial wheel still spinning behind him like the eye of a god.

He turned his head slightly, smirking.

“You know me…” he said calmly.

“I’m always all in. I’m betting my entire existence.”

And then, Anya saw it.

Hovering just over his shoulder—a faint, feminine figure, barely visible against the golden light. She shimmered like a mirage, a beautiful wraith formed of divine energy. Her features were indistinct, shifting, as though they belonged to every goddess ever whispered in prayer.

Her hand curled gently around Aiku’s shoulder, as if the two were long-time conspirators. Her voice, musical and dangerous, flowed from lips that did not move.

“And what is it you want?” she asked.

Aiku didn’t hesitate. His grin sharpened into something predatory.

“Let’s say…” he said with a tilt of his head, eyes gleaming like polished suns,

“…the death of Miss Berserk Queen. She’s long overstayed her place as a side character.”

Anya froze, rage and confusion wrestling across her expression.

And then—

Flick!

A golden coin spun into existence between Aiku’s fingers. It hovered just above his palm, gleaming with arcane light. On one side, an unfamiliar symbol—an hourglass with wings. On the other, a broken sword resting on a throne.

The wheel behind him surged in response, spinning faster.

The ghostly woman leaned closer, her voice softer now.

“The wager is accepted. The game is set. Now flip the coin.”

Aiku’s eyes never left Anya’s, showing her the golden coin.

“Heads, you die screaming.” He flipped the coin high into the air, golden mana trailing behind it like stardust.

“Tails… You get to life another day.”

The coin spun. Time seemed to slow.

And Anya…

Anya clenched her fists. Her crimson mana ignited once more.

“You smug little bastard…” she growled, rising to her full height as her aura exploded outward.

“I don’t care how divine your tricks are—when I’m done with you, there won’t be enough left to gamble with.”

Aiku’s smirk widened.

The coin began to fall.

In those moments, time felt as if it had drawn in a deep breath and then simply… stopped.

No wind, no sound, not even the echo of mana in the air.

Just silence.

A heavy, thick kind of silence—the sort that comes right before a tragedy.

Anya stood frozen, her fists trembling as her aura flickered like a candle in a storm. And for the first time in this ridiculous, drawn-out battle, she felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge until now: dread.

Real, primal dread.

The kind that doesn’t shout—it whispers. Quiet, sharp, and cold as a dagger pressed to the base of your spine.

And the worst part?

It wasn’t because of Aiku’s overwhelming power.

It wasn’t because of that ghostly woman that clung to him like some divine parasite.

No.

It was the coin.

That damned coin.

Something about it felt final.

As if the universe itself was holding its breath for the outcome.

She hadn’t taken his words seriously, not until now. Not really.

He’d been joking the entire fight—grinning, smirking, showboating like some cosmic prankster playing with loaded dice.

But now? Now he spoke like a man with an execution order tucked in his pocket.

And as the coin reached the apex of its arc, spinning in slow motion, casting glimmers of divine gold across the ruined buildings like slivers of fate—

Anya knew.

Her life was dangling by that toss.

A fifty-fifty chance. Life or death.

Heads or tails.

She gritted her teeth.

Aiku smiled.

And the coin began to fall.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Then—

“What if the coin never lands?”

A new voice. Calm. Elegant. Disruptive in the way a single violin string could split open an entire symphony.

And just like that, time lurched forward—but the coin didn’t fall.

Because a hand reached up and caught it, mid-air, between two gloved fingers.

It wasn’t Aiku’s hand.

No.

This one wore authority like a second skin.

He had hair black as midnight soaked in ink, and eyes—oh, those eyes. Slit pupils glowing gold with threads of red swimming at the edges, like galaxies caught in motion.

His suit was sharp, obsidian-black, with a pristine white tie that almost glowed under the surrounding destruction. Draped across his shoulders was a white comet-patterned cape.

He held the coin between his fingers like it was an afterthought. Like fate was just a trinket.

Aiku blinked, and—for the first time since the battle began—his smile completely faded.

Just for a second.

Anya’s breath caught in her throat.

Alister.

She knew that face. That ridiculous outfit. That presence that made reality hum slightly off-key whenever he walked into the room.

Alister was here.

And he had just interrupted the divine wager.

She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved… or terrified.

Because if Aiku was a storm with a smirk, then Alister was the quiet pressure drop before a calamity.

He didn’t need theatrics. He was the stage.

And all of it—the goddess, the coin, the wheel of fate—paused in deference to his arrival.

He glanced at Aiku, flicked the coin once between his fingers, and said with a voice as smooth as velvet draped over steel:

“You know, I’m putting in so much effort to create the image of an all-powerful ruler. What exactly would the people think of me if an entire district was brought to ruin under my watch?”

He turned to face Aiku fully, crushing the coin within the palm of his hand, reducing it to particles of golden dust.

“I’d be called incompetent.”