Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse - Chapter 530

Chapter 530: Who Are You?
Yuuto opened his eyes.

A sharp gust bit at his face, and for a moment, all he could see was white. Snow. Endless, howling snow — stretching across a desolate landscape of broken stone and crumbling walls. The remains of a ruined fortress surrounded him, ancient and half-buried beneath frost and silence.

He rose slowly, breath misting in the icy air.

“…A wasteland,” he muttered, brushing a patch of snow off his shoulder. His hair fluttered with the wind. He glanced around, silver eyes narrowing. “Why did you bring me here, Ren? I hope you have a very good explanation for yourself.”

Behind him, footsteps crunched.

Yuuto turned slowly.

Sure enough — a figure stood a few dozen paces away.

Ren.

But he wasn’t wearing the formal clothing he’d worn earlier at the Grand Meeting. No. This Ren was clad in red and black armor, the plates sharp-edged and strangely battle-worn, flickers of black mana coursing faintly along the seams. A heavy cape billowed behind him.

His gaze was ice.

Cold. Calculating.

He didn’t blink.

“I do… Guildmaster,” Ren said simply.

Yuuto stared at him in silence for a moment.

“I’ll be the judge of that. So go on, Ren. Speak. Let’s hear it.”

Ren inhaled, eyes steady.

Then he asked quietly — but firmly:

“Guildmaster… who are you, really?”

Yuuto didn’t answer right away.

The wind whistled between the fractured towers and shattered battlements, carrying with it the soft, mournful howl of something ancient — something buried deep beneath the snow and stone.

His eyes drifted upward, toward the grey, cloud-choked sky. For a moment, he said nothing at all.

Then…

He exhaled, slowly.

Yuuto’s breath misted in the air as he turned his gaze toward Ren, incredulous.

“Are you serious, Ren?” he said flatly. “You dragged me into the middle of nowhere… to ask who I am?”

Ren didn’t flinch. The howling wind whipped at his dark red cloak, but his stance remained firm — rigid as stone. His eyes, once filled with admiration and loyalty, now held a storm of doubt and something else… something colder.

“Yes,” Ren said simply. “Because I don’t think I ever truly knew.”

Yuuto’s eyes narrowed. “And you think now’s the time for this—”

Ren suddenly shouted, his voice cutting through the wind like a blade.

“Of course it’s the best time! Because the Guildmaster I thought I knew would never do the things you’re doing now!”

His fists clenched, trembling slightly as emotion surged through every word.

“The Guildmaster I followed wouldn’t support Alister’s vision of world conquest — a vision built on a monument of human corpses. He wouldn’t disregard the lives of millions just to back some rookie who joined barely a year ago!”

Yuuto’s expression flickered, but Ren wasn’t finished.

“The Guildmaster I knew would’ve honored our dead comrades! Do you remember that monster — that Tytan-class abomination we fought two decades ago? The one that nearly destroyed all the megacities? The one that forced every guild, every union squad to mobilize?”

His voice cracked, fury mixing with grief.

“My entire team died that day. We gave everything trying to stop it. And now I see you — reducing people to particles of light like they’re just glitches in a game. No matter what they’ve done, no matter how annoying they are — the Yuuto I knew… he couldn’t even pause time!”

The snow howled around them, the storm rising to match the intensity of his words.

Ren took a step forward, eyes locked on Yuuto’s.

“So I’ll ask again. One last time.”

He pointed directly at him.

“Who. Are. You. Really?”

For a long moment, Yuuto didn’t move.

The wind screamed around them like a wounded beast. Snow swirled between the two men, but neither blinked. Neither backed down.

Then—

Yuuto smiled.

It was a slow, tired smile — not mocking, not cruel.

But it wasn’t warm either.

“That’s quite the speech, Ren,” he said softly. “You’ve been holding that in for a long time, haven’t you?”

Ren’s glare deepened, his jaw locked tight.

Yuuto stepped forward once, then twice, his boots crunching in the snow. His cloak dragged behind him like a funeral banner.

“You want to know who I really am?” he said. “Fine.”

The air around him began to hum. Faint ripples of distortion shimmered outward from his body. The snow no longer seemed to touch him. The light dimmed slightly — as if the world itself leaned closer to listen.

Yuuto’s voice was quiet — but it rang louder than any storm.

“I came into being long before time had a name,” he said, stepping slowly toward Ren. “I witnessed my father and his brother kill each other over an argument… one that burned a starfield to ash, their souls shattered like fragments across the cosmos.”

His silver eyes dimmed as white flames stirred behind them.

“My kin abandoned me in search of adventure — or escape. I served beside the rise and fall of dragonkind for generations… watching the children of children forget the gods who bled to shape their world.”

The air around Yuuto shifted, distorted — time itself pulling away from him like wary prey.

“I’ve witnessed the birth and death of worlds. I’ve seen empires rise with fire and fall with whispers. I’ve watched comrades I once laughed with grow old, die, and be buried by those who never knew my name.”

He paused, eyes distant now — not at Ren, but at something far older.

“I fell in love once,” he said. “She told me I was gentle. That I was kind. But time taught me — love isn’t for the likes of me.”

His next breath came with a faint tremble.

“I’ve sought death… but it eludes me. I’ve desired purpose… but I’ve never once fulfilled one.”

Then — his form began to shift.

As he walked forward, his hair lengthened, silver locks unraveling into something ethereal. His once-boyish figure stretched taller, leaner, regal. Silver horns curled from his temples, gleaming like starlight against a darkening sky.

His cloak billowed wider, no longer cloth but something woven from memory and mana. The snow avoided him now — parting with reverence.

“I have been many things, Ren,” Yuuto said, voice echoing with layered tones — as if several versions of him spoke in unison. “A child. A warrior. A lover. A king. A friend. A ghost. A fool.”

His glowing eyes locked with Ren’s.

“And now… I am simply what remains. And all I wish… is to end it all.”