Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse - Chapter 122

Chapter 122: Brotherly Confrontation
The voice belonged to none other than Hazerion. He walked calmly, his poker face masking any unease he felt inside. Now standing among his generals, he gazed up into the night sky, his eyes locking onto Hamerion.

“So, brother, tell me, what is it you want? Why are you here?”

Hamerion gazed coldly as he hovered above them. “I’m here to get things over with.”

Hazerion narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Hamerion replied sharply. “The darkness attacked me and my people. We had to evacuate, and now we’re all here. We can’t beat around the bush anymore. Let’s settle this once and for all—our people need their Overlord.”

Hazerion’s expression tightened as he processed his brother’s words. “Are you saying we should abandon our previous agreement?”

“Obviously,” Hamerion replied, his voice filled with disdain. “Or did you not hear a single thing I just said?”

Hamerion’s golden eyes blazed with his golden mana as he locked eyes with Hazerion, his voice cold.

“We will fight to the death, brother. The one left standing will be the next Overlord. It’s the only way.”

Hazerion’s eyes widened in shock.

“This is madness, Hamerion. We’re brothers! How can you suggest we fight each other to the death over a position of power? There must be another way! I’m sure if we try hard enough, we can find a way we can all survive this.”

As he spoke, he noticed the generals around him looking at him with a touch of shock, nearing disappointment.

Hamerion’s expression darkened as he voiced what everyone was thinking.

“Have you no pride as a dragon, Hazerion? Do you even understand what it means to be an Overlord?”

His words shook Hazerion’s confidence.

“How dare you speak so lightly of such a sacred duty?”

“An Overlord is more than just a title or a position of power—it’s a responsibility, a guardian role, a way of being. It’s a legacy that our royal bloodline embodies, and one that we will carry on until the end of time. This isn’t about power, Hazerion, it’s about who we are meant to be. If you can’t see that, then you’re unworthy of the title.”

Hazerion clenched his fists, his brother’s words stinging deeply.

“How can you be so sure that if you become the Overlord, you’ll be able to defeat the darkness? Even our father, as strong as he was, fell with the heirloom. How can you be so sure you won’t meet the same fate?”

Hamerion’s expression didn’t change. He crossed his arms over his chest, a look of disdain in his eyes.

“I’m not like you and Father,” he said coldly.

“I don’t see why I need to state my obvious qualifications for you to understand.”

“I have more Overlord crests than Father ever did, and I’ve already mastered them.”

“My mana capacity far surpasses Father’s when he was my age, and I comprehended my bloodline abilities at just two hundred years old.”

The surrounding generals exchanged glances, the air growing thicker with each word Hamerion spoke.

“So you see…”

“I’m stronger, I’m smarter, I’m more talented—and the best fit to rule. I will become the Overlord!”

Hazerion’s breath caught in his throat; this wasn’t a side of his brother he had ever seen. The sheer force of Hamerion’s conviction sent a chill down his spine.

Hamerion then pointed at him as he said, “So die already so I can lead our people to victory!”

With that, Hamerion’s aura flared, the raw power of his mana surging around him like a storm, the force of it pushing Hazerion back a step.

Hazerion’s voice sounded heavy as he began to speak, his eyes downcast.

“You know,” he said slowly.

“I wanted to give it all up. Throw my life away during our duel because I know you’re better than me. That’s a fact. Even normal dragons are stronger. I genuinely believed you would be a better Overlord.”

As the words left his mouth, a look of shock passed through the gathered generals. Their gazes were disturbed. Kaelan, standing closest to Hazerion, opened his mouth to speak, but Hazerion raised his hand, commanding silence. Kaelan clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth in pain, but he obeyed.

Hazerion continued, his voice growing more serious.

“But then… everyone started to gather around me, believing in me, hoping I could save them. And for a time, I believed it too.”

His eyes flickered with a look of fleeting hope. “I practiced hard, wanting to do just that. I even asked my generals to send yours a message, telling you we could work together to save everyone, just like how we always did things together when we were kids.”

He paused shortly, then continued. “But my lack of talent and strength became more clear to me the harder I tried.”

Hazerion looked up at his brother, his expression pained but serious. “So, I began to fall back on the belief that I should sacrifice myself so you—the stronger, more talented one—could save our people.”

There was a moment of silence again before he continued.

“But if this is how you’re acting…”

Hazerion yelled, his voice trembling slightly as anger and sorrow mixed in his heart.

“…so cold and heartless, when did you become like this…? How can I be sure my sacrifice would mean anything if you’re just going to lead all of dragonkind to their deaths?”

“This isn’t the way, brother!”

Hamerion’s eyes narrowed, his gaze hardening at his brother’s words. He clenched his fists, his mana flaring dangerously as he struggled to keep his composure.

“How dare you question me?”

“You think I would lead our people to their deaths? Are you mocking me?”

Hazerion’s body tensed further as he replied, “No, I’m not mocking you, Hamerion. I’m saying that if you continue with what you want to do, leading our people into a battle without a plan, it will be catastrophic.”

Hamerion’s raging mana suddenly calmed down, a genuine look of surprise now on his face.

“A plan?” he repeated, finding the question out of place. “You’re asking if I have a plan?”

Hazerion gazed at his brother seriously. “I am. Do you?”

For a moment, there was absolute silence.

Hamerion threw his head back and burst into a loud, booming laugh, revealing his sharp fangs as his voice echoed through the night.

“Oh, brother…”

“…I used to believe that, despite your lack of strength, you had some degree of wisdom. Is this really the question you’re asking me now? If I have a plan?”

Hazerion’s muscles tightened, sensing the threat in his words. He could feel the disdain in his brother’s laughter, the confidence that seemed to swell around him like a fortress.

Hamerion’s expression turned deadly serious as his laughter suddenly stopped. His voice was a cold, sharp blade as he spoke, “That is without a doubt the most foolish thing you’ve ever asked, brother.”

“It seems you are in need of enlightenment…”

“…so I, as your beloved brother, will give it to you before I relieve your shoulders of your head.”

With those words, Hamerion’s mana surged again, this time with more intensity. The air crackled with his power; it was obvious to all he was going to resort to violence.

All the generals on both sides tensed up, ready to clash.

Hazerion’s breath caught in his throat, every instinct in his body screaming at him to move, to act. But he was rooted to the spot, torn between the brother he once knew and the monster that now stood before him.

Hamerion’s eyes gleamed as he crouched low, gathering power in his legs. In a blur, he leaped off the head of the massive black drake he had been standing on, his body cutting through the air. As he ascended, his body began to change, black scales erupting across his skin, swiftly encasing him like armor.

The transformation was quick; his body enlarged, muscles bulging beneath the thick, obsidian scales.

A long, powerful tail emerged from his lower back, encased in the same black scales, whipping through the air with force. His spine became longer, and wings erupted from his shoulder blades, spreading wide as they caught the wind. In moments, Hamerion’s body had changed into a draconic humanoid appearance.

His yellow eyes glowed brightly; the raw power within them could not be mistaken.

Hovering above the battlefield, Hamerion looked down at Hazerion, his voice, deeper now, seeming to vibrate the air around him as he spoke.

“To answer your foolish question, brother…” he said, pointing his sharp, dragon-like claw at Hazerion.

“…an Overlord doesn’t need a plan. All he has to do is rely on his overwhelming strength!”

Along with his transformation, a crest appeared on his forehead and on both of his hands, his body then encased in a golden glow. Along with him, all of his forces were enveloped in the same golden light.

They all seemed to grow stronger—fangs sharpening, claws elongating, and scales becoming more dense. It was as if Hamerion’s transformation was causing some sort of chain reaction.

Hazerion’s eyes widened with shock as he muttered, “This is… the strength from an Overlord’s rage. I thought only the Overlord could use this.”

Hamerion’s lips curled into a cruel smile as he responded, “Wrong again, brother. As long as a successor has something to fight for, something they feel strongly about, it can ignite their rage, ignite their strength!”

Hazerion’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the overwhelming power radiate from his brother and his forces.