Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse - Chapter 252

Chapter 252: A Test Of Truths
Anya smirked, unfazed. “You can say whatever you want, but these eyes don’t deceive me, Alister. Your body is very sturdy, and you possess a powerful aura; you could easily be a match for me in a fist fight.”

She leaned in, her voice lowering slightly. “Look, I’m willing to do this your way. But I want you to admit it.”

Alister watched her, the calm look on his face hiding his thoughts. “You’re really that certain, aren’t you?”

“More than you know,” Anya replied, her eyes unwavering. “So, let’s make this clear. You tell me the truth here and now, and in return, I’ll follow through with our agreement. Deal?”

Alister tilted his head, considering her offer. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll assume you’re hiding more than just your identity, and I’ll have no choice but to take… alternative steps to find the answers myself,” she replied smoothly.

Alister’s lips curled into a slight smirk as he replied, “I’ll stick by what I said earlier, Guildmaster. I am not Spade.” Without waiting for her response, he turned on his heel, leaving the balcony.

But as he took his first step away, a sudden surge of intense, fiery-red mana flooded the space. The air around them vibrated with power, and a warm, red glow shone on him.

Anya’s voice rang out, “You’ve forced my hand, then.”

The sheer force of her mana was enough to halt Alister in his tracks, a small chill creeping down his spine. He turned back just in time to see her figure closing in, her fist already drawn back, ready to strike.

Time seemed to slow as the punch neared him, an inch away, her expression intense, demanding the truth.

Alister’s eyes widened ever so slightly, caught off guard not just by her sudden aggression but by the sheer intensity of her power.

VOOSHHHHH

In the next instant, droplets of blood splattered onto the floor, but they weren’t from Alister. No—Anya’s punch hadn’t even landed.

But what could possibly have stopped her so suddenly? And if the blood wasn’t Alister’s, whose was it?

Alister’s voice cut through the tense silence. “Draven, Mar’Garet, stand down.”

There they were—Alister’s two dragon generals, each already standing at Anya’s side, their weapons hovering menacingly near her. Draven’s blade rested with the razor edge just grazing her neck. On her other side, Mar’Garet’s crimson-edged spear pressed directly beneath Anya’s jaw.

The two dragon generals didn’t flinch, their eyes locked on Anya with dead intensity.

Both Draven and Mar’Garet lowered their weapons at Alister’s command, stepping back as they both said, “Understood.”

Anya let out a dry chuckle, glancing at them with an amused look. “Your summons are rather feisty, aren’t they? No matter, in the end, the strongest are the ones who get to have the last laugh. Isn’t that right, Mr. Spade?” she said calmly.

Alister stayed silent, but inwardly, his mind raced. Her punch hadn’t landed—not because she’d held back, but because he had caught it instinctively.

His hand had moved on its own, blocking a strike from Anya, the Guildmaster of the Berserkers. A feat like that was far beyond a Summoner’s usual capabilities, especially against someone of Anya’s strength.

There were very few people who could block one of her punches, and they could be counted on one hand. None of them were in this city—except, of course, for Yuuto and… Spade. And Alister knew that she knew that fact.

Anya’s eyes suddenly lit up with satisfaction as she gazed at him. His expression remained calm, but the look in his eyes was intense.

She suddenly burst into a loud, hearty laugh. “Oh, you should see your face right now! You look like you want to kill someone. It’s hilarious!”

Her laughter echoed in the space between them, brimming with confidence and amusement, as if she’d successfully cornered him with that simple action.

Alister paused, his gaze fixed on Anya as she continued to laugh. After a moment, he let out a sigh and shook his head. “Mind explaining what’s so funny?”

Anya’s laughter softened as she looked him in the eye, still clearly entertained. “Because I finally unmasked the man who kept me guessing this whole time—the one able to go toe-to-toe with me. I won’t lie, I had my suspicions. But you? You had me second-guessing myself more than I care to admit.”

Alister tilted his head, taking her words in. “Understood.” His tone was calm, yet the glint in his eyes turned sharper as he met her gaze head-on.

“So, when do you want your rematch?”

As he said it, a calm yet powerful aura began to radiate from him. His mana flared outward—not aggressively, but with a powerful presence, like a controlled storm, wrapping around him, calm yet intense. Though not as wild or fiery as hers had been earlier, it held a far greater magnitude.

“If you really want me dead, Guildmaster,” he said evenly, “then I’ll have to make sure to end this before you get the chance.”

Anya fell silent, watching him carefully. Then, unexpectedly, her expression softened into a warm smile—genuine, without a trace of her earlier intensity.

She took a slow step toward him, closing the distance without any clear intent to strike. When she reached him, she tapped his shoulder with a gentle pat.

“Calm down, Alister. That was all just a joke. I’m not going to kill you.”

Alister’s gaze shifted, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as she stood beside him. Her calm expression, along with the absence of any hostility, caught him slightly off guard.

“Then what was all that about?”

Anya chuckled, folding her arms. “I needed there to be some… pressure if I wanted you to reveal anything. If I’d asked nicely, would you have said anything at all?”

Alister remained silent for a moment before exhaling, his mana dissipating. “So now you know. How do you wish to proceed?”

Anya tilted her head thoughtfully, meeting his gaze with a confident yet unhurried expression. “Honestly, that depends on you. Either way, your secret is safe with me.”

Alister looked at her, genuinely confused by her easygoing attitude. “Do you care to enlighten me?”