NOVGO.NET Chapter 522: Power That Bears Its Cost
Chapter 522: Power That Bears Its Cost
Murmurs erupted again, this time with uncertainty. Some faces hardened. Others looked confused.
But before anyone could press further—
A deep, thunderous roar tore through the air outside.
Then another.
And another.
It was not the sound of one beast.
It was the collective bellow of dozens of dragons, echoing across the spires of Sector Zero like a warning shot from the sky itself. The very structure of the Grand Hall trembled faintly. Dust trickled down from the high-beamed ceilings. Some of the chandeliers swayed.
Reporters screamed.
A few ducked instinctively.
Guards reached for weapons.
People were already rising from their seats in panic.
But then—just as suddenly—the roars ceased.
Silence. A silence so sudden, so absolute, it made the air feel thick. Electric. Sacred.
And then a voice.
“Be careful with your words, Director.”
The voice echoed through the chamber, not from the speaker system—but from the man himself.
“Dragons are not creatures that take lightly to being threatened… not by empty statements. Nor by loaded guns.”
Every head turned. All eyes followed the sound toward the long aisle at the heart of the hall.
Footsteps. Slow. Steady. Echoing through the silence like a war drum.
And then they saw him.
Alister.
Dressed not in his guild uniform—but in something entirely new.
A tailored black suit, with a dark shoulder cape pinned in place by a golden clasp. The crest of a white dragon skull gleamed across the cape, etched into a field of royal gold. It was not the silver of the White Comets.
This was something else.
His golden eyes scanned the room with intensity, neither rushed nor afraid. His presence alone demanded silence.
Even the camera drones instinctively pulled back, unsure if they were capturing a political figure… or something closer to a god.
From the guild seats, Hiroshi stood halfway up, whispering with dread:
“…Is this it?”
He looked to Aiko, to Ren, then back to the figure approaching the stage.
“Alister really plans to go through with this.”
No one answered.
Because deep down—they all already knew.
The war wasn’t coming.
It had arrived.
Alister walked with grace—each step echoing like the toll of a distant bell.
As he neared the front, the two armored Union guards flanking the steps to the dais exchanged uncertain glances.
For a heartbeat, it seemed they might bar his path.
But then Alister’s golden gaze swept over them—calm, almost patient. A faint pressure rolled off him, like the hush of air before a lightning strike.
The guards swallowed hard and stepped aside.
Alister ascended the steps without breaking stride, coming to stand just a few feet from Aethel’s podium. He didn’t need a microphone. When he spoke, the hall carried his words effortlessly.
“Director Aethel,” Alister began, his voice smooth, level—yet somehow sharper for its lack of overt hostility. “I asked Guildmaster Yuuto to inform the city I intended to give a speech regarding the looming threat our world faces. And my plans to step into power to ensure our safety… but it seems instead of waiting for my arrival, you decided you had much to say… about me.”
Aethel stiffened, his expression tense yet calm, mana gathering at the corners of his eyes.
“You’re correct,” Aethel said, his voice amplified again by the speakers—though it still seemed somehow smaller than Alister’s. “I intend to have you answer for the chaos you’ve brought upon this city. For the fear, the unilateral decisions, the executions carried out without due process—”
Alister raised a hand lightly, and to the shock of many, Aethel fell silent. Not because Alister compelled him physically—only because the weight of his presence seemed to cut off the will to speak.
“I understand,” Alister said, almost gently. “You wish to frame this as overreach. As tyranny. As lawlessness. But tell me…”
He turned, sweeping his gaze over the entire gathering. Over Guildmasters. Family heads. Reporters. Over countless eyes waiting, tense, caught between dread and fascination.
“…How many of you were actually safe under this Union’s watch?”
A ripple of discomfort ran through the hall. People shifted in their seats. A few lowered their gazes.
“Where were your vaunted processes when the mists claimed hundreds? When beasts from forgotten worlds tore through our streets and slaughtered innocents? When a few corrupt fools in these very seats siphoned away the money meant for research for a cure?”
He let his hand drop, his expression returning to that measured calm that made his next words cut even deeper.
“And when my dragons arrived—was it your precious bureaucracy that lifted a claw to protect you? Or was it them? Was it me?”
The hall was silent.
Aethel’s jaw clenched. “You twist this. You think because you can wield power beyond others, that it gives you the right to rule unchecked. That might makes right.”
“No,” Alister said softly. “I believe that responsibility does. Power is nothing without the willingness to bear its cost. I have carried that burden, Director. When you hid behind your sealed doors, I stood beneath the storms. When you debated, I bled.”
A heavy pause. Then he tilted his head just slightly, those golden eyes fixing on Aethel with something that might have almost been pity.
“And now… you would arrest me? On what grounds exactly? That I have protected the city too well? That I have disrupted your illusion of control?”
Aethel didn’t say anything. His eyes momentarily flashed a red glow—but he didn’t speak. Perhaps because he couldn’t find the words. Perhaps because, in that moment, there were none left that wouldn’t betray his fear.
Alister caught sight of that red glow.
He instantly knew what it meant.
Alister exhaled a slow breath, disappointment darkening the edge of his golden eyes.
“Draven, apprehend this fool.”
At once, the air behind Alister seemed to ripple—light warping and folding inward. From the heart of that golden cosmic distortion, a massive silhouette took shape.
Draven stepped forward with a knight’s grace, his massive armored form emerging fully from the swirling golden portal behind Alister. The portal crackled and sparked as if the very fabric of space strained to contain his passage.
“As you wish, my lord.”