Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate Chapter 230 - CHAPTER 230: COSTLY IGNORANCE

The black tendrils seeped into Emperor Augustus's corpse like ink bleeding through parchnt, rging with his very essence. His cold, lifeless body spasd once—and then again—before his shut eyes snapped open with a burst of unnatural clarity.

He gasped, like a man drowning who'd just breached the surface.

"Welco back," Rebecca said softly, her voice velvet and dark, a wicked smile curling on her lips.

Emperor Augustus slowly rose from the cold floor, blinking as he processed the impossible. His limbs obeyed. His breath returned. He was… alive.

"Our goddess brought you back to life. You'd best pay her the respect she deserves," Number Twenty said, stepping forward with a smirk, admiration shining in his eyes.

"Yay! A new mber!" Number Five cheered, practically bouncing. "It's ti, guys! A battle to determine our newest mber's mask number!"

"I'm not interested in that," Augustus said dryly, flexing his fingers. His voice was low, laced with confusion and fascination. "I'm not wearing a mask."

He gazed at his hands—there was a subtle tremble in his fingers as swirling darkness coiled around his index, obeying his will with unnatural ease. He could feel the power now—writhing just beneath his skin, waiting for command.

The room fell quiet. The dark congregation watched, so with awe, so with envy.

Rebecca's gaze lingered on Augustus, her smile deepening. His connection with the power granted to him was… seamless. Elegant, even.

"No fair! You have to fight and—"

"That's enough, Five," Rebecca interrupted, her tone firm. "He won't be needing a mask."

She rose slightly, then gestured lazily. A throne of shadows blood beneath her and lifted her into the air like a queen upon midnight silk. The other cultists stepped back, bowing their heads.

"It's ti to begin our plan," she announced, her voice echoing with an unnatural resonance. "The world must taste the dread of shadow soldiers."

"Yes, Goddess," Number One said, vanishing in a blur of darkness, already moving to carry out her will.

Rebecca turned her gaze once more to Augustus. Her eyes glead with interest—dark and dangerous.

"And what are you thinking about?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"My revenge," Augustus replied, his voice like ice. "Knowing it's closer than ever… fills with anticipation."

Rebecca nodded slowly, pleased. "Indeed. With the shadow slave project, your strength will soar. Soon, you'll rival even the greatest threats."

She raised her hand, and a second throne of shadows ford beside her, elegant and ominous. She gestured for him to sit.

"But for now… tell what you know about the human who killed you. Nesis. He has piqued my interest."

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Far away, beyond the clouds and mortal borders, Greg and Drakonix finally landed atop a jagged mountain of stone and steel. Drakonix's lair lood ahead—an ancient sanctum carved into the mountain's heart, echoing with age and majesty.

Greg dismounted, his boots crunching against the stone. Drakonix shifted beside him, reverting into his towering humanoid form with a flash of golden scales and silver fla.

"You… you have an absolute concept," Greg said, voice sharp. The question had clawed at his mind since the battle—now, he had to know.

"Oh?" Drakonix raised a brow, amused. "It seems you're quite knowledgeable. Your strength must be rising nicely."

He yawned and collapsed into a massive mound of glittering gold coins behind him. Rubies the size of fists and silver chalices spilled beneath his weight.

Greg froze.

His jaw twitched as he stared at the obscene mountain of wealth. Betrayal stabbed at his chest.

Drakonix had complained endlessly about his lack of treasure—how he could no longer hoard, how the pain of poverty gnawed at him. And yet here he was, lounging like a king atop a literal sea of gold.

"You—!"

"If you're going to say anything about my treasures," Drakonix cut in, glaring with a glint of fire, "it's better you leave. I'm not giving you this one—no matter how sweet you try to talk. I'll find coins for you, but not from my reserve. Besides… you've probably barely spent a tenth of what I gave you. So why act like a greedy lizard?"

Greg stared, stunned. Then he chuckled bitterly.

If only Drakonix knew the truth—that the coins were almost gone. But would he show rcy if he knew? No. More likely, he'd torch him and toss him out.

Greg sighed and shook his head, accepting the cruel fate.

Drakonix studied him. "Hmm. You've changed. You're not the cold human I t. It seems people are… reaching you."

Greg didn't reply. He didn't need to.

He had changed. But that didn't an he'd gone soft like Brian. He still rembered betrayal. Still held grudges like blades in his chest. Forgiveness was a word that held no aning for him.

"Well, you're right," Drakonix said suddenly, sinking deeper into the gold. "I do have an absolute concept. The Absolute Concept of Flas."

Greg narrowed his eyes. "Then… you could've killed that day. Why didn't you?"

"Simple," Drakonix replied lazily. "The Supre Will forbids absolute concept wielders from using such powers on foreigners. If not for that protection… you'd have been ash before your first breath."

Greg moved closer, curiosity swirling in his gut. He laid down beside Drakonix on the mountain of gold. The coins were cool, hard, almost soothing.

"Then why serve ?" he asked. "If I were you, I wouldn't fear ."

Drakonix growled playfully. "I'll burn you to a crisp if you sneak even one coin. Don't test ."

Greg felt a chill run down his spine. The threat had been playful—but the intent had been deadly serious.

This is the true Drakonix, he thought. A dragon who laughs, but never jokes about gold.

"Well," Drakonix continued, his voice quieter now, "your warning didn't move . But I felt… sothing. A pull. My very soul urged to serve you. Not your sister—her presence ant nothing to . But you? There's sothing deeper there. I believe Leviathan felt it too."

He burst into laughter, full and unrestrained.

Greg flushed with embarrassnt, recalling the tis he'd threatened Drakonix with childish bravado. It was painfully cringeworthy in hindsight.

Drakonix cald and added, "Besides, your talent—while useless against absolute concept wielders like —is fun for casual fights. And most of us can't use our full power freely."

"Why not?" Greg asked, brow furrowed.

"You've awakened your concept," Drakonix said, serious now. "But absolute concepts… they're far beyond that. A casual attack imbued with it can destroy a continent—maybe an entire small world."

Greg's eyes widened.

"It's power that rivals the world itself," Drakonix said. "Wielders like us must restrain ourselves, lest we burn everything around us to ash. On a world like Apocalypse, we'd leave irreversible scars."

Greg fell silent, the weight of the revelation settling in.

He had awakened his concept—but he was still a speck before titans.