NOVGO.NET Chapter 523: Dragons Do Not Negotiate
Chapter 523: Dragons Do Not Negotiate
His obsidian armor gleamed under the hall’s lights. He wore a small black cape with some gold and a dragon skull, similar to Aliser’s. Arcs of violet lightning slithered along his gauntlets, gathering at his shoulders and racing down the length of the colossal greatsword he carried effortlessly in one hand.
As soon as his foot hit the marble floor, the ground beneath him cracked faintly under the sheer weight of his presence.
Draven lowered his head in a deep, rigid bow.
Before anyone could even gasp, he was gone, a blur of black steel and crackling purple energy. The air boomed with the sonic backlash of his movement.
Then—
Aethel was wrenched violently off his feet, Draven’s clawed gauntlet wrapped tight around his throat. Papers, data pads, and even the smaller drone cams scattered in a shockwave as Aethel’s body slammed into the polished floor hard enough to rattle chandeliers high above.
Gasps and horrified cries rippled through the audience.
Draven loomed over the Union Director, one armored boot pinning his chest to the floor, the tip of Storm Cleaver, wreathed in jagged violet arcs of lightning, now pressed against the vulnerable flesh of Aethel’s neck.
“Do not delude yourself with the thought of escaping capture. My lord’s orders are absolute,” Draven said as his purple reptilian eyes glowed faintly.
All eyes were locked in shock.
Aethel’s own eyes were wide, breath coming in strangled, shuddering gasps.
Alister stood calmly atop the dais, looking down on them both, his expression neither pleased nor cruel. Merely resolved.
The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.
In the next instant, deafening sounds of chairs scraping against marble erupted through the hall.
Every guild representative present, save for Yuuto, his team leaders, and Anya, rose to their feet, weapons drawn and readied in practiced battle stances.
Gleaming blades hummed with mana, hammers crackled with stored kinetic force, even delicate elemental wands glowed with mana primed to strike.
The Union officers flanking the perimeter of the hall swung up their rifles, sights locking onto Alister and his dragon general. Safety mechanisms clicked off.
From the elevated stands reserved for the Union board members… the replacements Aethel prepared likewise drew their weapons, shimmering with advanced tech overlays and runic inscriptions.
A wave of killing intent rolled through the hall. The atmosphere thickened so sharply it felt as if the very air might shatter.
Meanwhile…
On the massive billboard hovering over Skybridge Plaza, the live broadcast flickered back to the Union NewsNet team. The sleek feed was split: one side showed Alister standing calmly atop the dais with Draven looming over Aethel, while the other showed the rows of guild representatives bristling with weapons, tension crackling like electricity.
Inside their broadcast pod, Lana Myre had a hand pressed against her earpiece, her usually composed face strained. Kael Strix, beside her, was half-standing, gripping the edge of their floating console with wide eyes.
“Gods above…” Kael breathed, his voice tight with disbelief. “He’s actually doing it. He’s taken the Director hostage right in front of the entire power structure of Sector Zero. I told you, didn’t I? The Dragon Lord was a problem from the very start, ”
“Oh stop,” Lana snapped, glaring at him. “We have no idea what his reasons are yet! For all we know, this could be a necessary purge of corruption. The Union has been in shambles ever since the president vanished. Maybe he’s forcing a reckoning that no one else had the guts to call for.”
Kael threw up his hands. “Lana, he has a dragon knight with a sword to Aethel’s throat! That’s not a trial, that’s tyranny! You can’t seriously be defending him right now.”
“I’m not defending anything,” Lana shot back, her blue eyes flashing. “I’m saying we don’t have the whole picture. You’ve been on his case since day one because you don’t trust power you can’t predict, ”
“Oh come on!” Kael barked. “Look at the footage. Look at these people in the hall. They’re terrified. This is what raw intimidation looks like. He didn’t come here to negotiate, he came here to seize. This is exactly what I warned about. He’s finally showing his true colors.”
“Maybe those ’true colors’ are what’s needed to clean this festering mess of a city!” Lana shot back, her voice rising in defense.
“Oh gods, listen to yourself!” Kael snapped, jabbing a finger at the screen. “Next you’ll be saying maybe we need a dictator if he looks good enough in a suit.”
Lana’s nostrils flared. She held his stare for a heartbeat, then let out a slow, tense breath.
“…Fine. Let’s just keep watching,” she said tightly. “Maybe the truth will come out of Alister’s own mouth. Then we can decide who’s right.”
Kael folded his arms, muttering, “We’d better hope so. Because if we’re watching the birth of a tyrant right now… there might not be anyone left to stop him.”
The feed cut back to the hall, where Alister stood serenely, about to speak, and millions across the city leaned closer to their screens, breath held.
Still standing calmly atop the dais, Alister turned to face the gathered threat. His golden eyes swept over the assembly.
“Careful now,” he said evenly, his voice cutting through the tension like a soft blade. “As long as everything goes well, no blood will be spilled today.”
The threat wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was a simple statement of fact, absolute, inevitable.
As his words settled over the chamber, the golden cosmic portal behind him pulsed brighter.
From its swirling depths stepped Cinder first, her armor radiating embers from some internal furnace, one foot idly trailing sparks across the marble.
Next came Mar’Garet, regal in her flowing war robes. On her head perched Ho’Rus, holding her horns as if they were the handles of a bike, glowing eyes fixed on the hall with almost playful mischief.
Then Terra emerged, adjusting her glasses with chilling composure.
Alzuring followed, eyeing the humans with an intense sense of superiority and disdain.
Behind him was Silvyr, stretching lazily. He yawned; clearly, he had been busy teaching the dragonkin for a while before he was summoned.
Finally, Miyu stepped forward in her combat form, her golden gaze flicking across the terrified crowd as if sorting them into categories of threat, and relevance.
Together they fanned out behind Alister.
Murderous intent rolled of them in waves, their dragon aura flaring up slightly, making the air considerably harder to breath.
No one moved.
No one dared.
The hall had become a stage for forces that made even the most seasoned guild members feel suddenly, and painfully, mortal.