Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate Chapter 294: TOO LATE

Clown wore a triumphant grin, the kind born from bloodlust and confidence. Victory felt close—so close he could taste it. The frozen bombs hovered midair, prid to detonate upon contact. And Greg, distracted and wide open, seed dood.

Until two words shattered that illusion.

"Ti freeze!" Greg roared, his voice resonating in the ancient and commanding tone of the dragon’s tongue.

Instantly, the entire battlefield within a hundred-ter radius ca to a standstill. The world paused. The bombs halted in mid-flight, their unstable forms suspended like deadly ornants. Clown’s grin froze in place, his crazed laugh echoing eerily in the silence. The flas, the shadows, even the particles in the air ceased to move.

Only Greg and his divine clones remained active.

The spell had cost him everything—his entire mana reserve gone in an instant. His body trembled under the strain of invoking a high-tier draconic command. But it was worth it.

Within the suspended mont, Greg’s nine divine clones surged forward like shadows in motion. The ti-freeze allowed them to move unhindered, dispatching the remaining shadow slaves with ruthless precision. Each swipe, each fla, each crushing blow required no ti—only effort. What would’ve taken minutes in real-ti was executed in the blink of a cosmic eye.

Within seconds, the tide of darkness was no more.

[You have killed a shadow slave and devoured its essence.]

[Law of Darkness Assimilation: 0.001%]

[Total Law of Darkness Assimilated: 10%]

Only one remained.

Clown.

Greg’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his hand.

"Devour."

There was no fanfare, no dramatic clash of power, no struggle of wills. Greg simply consud Clown’s entire essence—body, soul, and all.

[You have devoured an Apostle of the Goddess of Darkness.]

[ 10% Accumulated]

[Law of Darkness Assimilation: 25%]

With Clown’s death, ti resud its natural flow. The bombs disintegrated harmlessly into particles, and silence reclaid the battlefield.

The fight was over.

Greg sent his divine clones back to the demon realm, their work not yet done. Then, without a word, he turned and made his way to a tree nearby, where a trembling figure still clung to its trunk like a lifeline.

"You," Greg said, voice steady but commanding, "what’s your na?"

The man, barely conscious, croaked a reply. "D-Daemon..."

"Alright, Daemon. Co with ," Greg replied without hesitation, lifting him up effortlessly. With a beat of his wings, he soared into the skies, flying toward the floating island—unaware of the storm brewing among his friends elsewhere.

Upon reaching the island, Greg finally turned his system notifications back on.

[Congratulations! You have reached Level 100!]

[As the first player to reach Level 100, you are awarded a unique gift!]

[Your job has now been revealed.]

[You have reached 25% assimilation of the Law of Darkness.]

[You have awakened the Concept: DARKNESS!]

[Continue defeating beings infused with the Law to further increase your assimilation.]

---

User: Nesis

Job: Devourer

Level: 103 (20,511,681 / 21,000,000 EXP)

Health: 290,000

Strength: 1736 ( 868)

Speed: 1462 ( 731)

Stamina: 1318

Intelligence: 1500

Constitution: 1092

Divinity: 2000

Free Attribute Points: 0

Talents:

[S-rank Talent – Talent Share]

[SSS Rank – Observer]

[EX Rank – God of Wealth]

Concepts:

[DARKNESS]

[ABSOLUTE RESOLUTION] (Absolute Concept)

[DEATH] (Absolute Concept)

Law of Darkness Assimilation: 25%

Absolute Concept of Corruption Assimilation: 20%

---

Greg’s lips curved slightly as he reviewed his stats. He was pleased. Powerful. Ascendant.

But then, two soul-crushing notifications tore through his joy.

[Your guild mber, Dual Blade, has died.]

[Your guild mber, Stagnant Water, has died.]

Greg’s heart sank.

His eyes widened in horror as the realization dawned—these ssages had been received two hours ago. But his silence settings had delayed them.

Frantically, he pulled up his inbox. His hands trembled as he scrolled through a flood of distress ssages from his friends—Wills, Lilith, Jessica, Aaron—all desperately trying to reach him.

He had been deaf to their cries.

"Thank you for saving my—" Daemon began softly, but Greg didn’t hear it. His wings burst open violently as he shot into the sky, leaving the man behind.

Fueled by panic and desperation, Greg raced through the skies toward the location they had sent him long ago. His aura blazed like a cot.

"Acceleration! Air resistance nullification! Flight speed buff!" he chanted in dragon tongue—

[Unable to use Dragon Tongue. Your pure mana reserve has been exhausted.]

The system cut him off. Greg’s pupils contracted in disbelief. He tried again.

Still nothing.

His rage boiled. He pulled out mana regeneration potions from his inventory, downing them without hesitation, trying again—

[Unable to use Dragon Tongue. Your pure mana reserve has been exhausted.]

[Pure mana cannot be replenished with standard mana potions.]

His jaw clenched. His fists shook.

Dragon magic borrowed the world’s mana to bend reality. But it required a catalyst—the caster’s own pure mana. Even the smallest amount of it. But pure mana wasn’t like normal mana. It couldn’t be regenerated with potions. It had to recover naturally.

Normal mages never faced this problem. Their spells didn’t require high-quality mana. But dragons? Dragons needed both quality and quantity.

Greg hadn’t known.

He had used dragon tongue recklessly, draining himself dry. And now, at the mont he needed it most—it had failed him.

He felt slow. Even though he was flying faster than most players could ever dream, he felt like he was crawling.

"Dragonification!" he roared, transforming into his full dragon form to gain more speed.

The wind scread past him as he cut through the clouds. Every second stretched into eternity. He needed to believe his friends were still alive.

He hoped that Thomas and Chris had already regenerated. With Dr. Ezekiel around—and knowing how Greg’s talent worked—resurrection should’ve been possible.

But if soone else had died after them... then they were gone. Forever.

In the apocalyptic world they now lived in, death was permanent.

Greg’s stomach twisted with dread.

Finally, in the distance, the silhouette of the Grey Empire ca into view. Hope surged—until another notification shattered it.

[Your guild mber, Healer, has died.]

Greg’s world fell apart. The Healer—his trump card, the one whose talent he’d planned to share as a failsafe—was gone.

Panic turned into sothing deeper: fear. Real, soul-ripping fear.

For the first ti since his rebirth, Greg felt helpless.

He reached the battlefield. His eyes scanned the chaos, locking instantly onto Lilith and Jessica. Relief flickered—then horror.

"STOP!" Greg roared in dragon tongue, watching the variant thrust a spear at Jessica’s chest—

[Unable to use Dragon Tongue. Your pure mana reserve has been exhausted.]

That cursed ssage again.

His voice failed him.

He had been flying for so long—why hadn’t his mana recovered?! If only he’d known the recovery rate of pure mana for dragons. If only he had planned better. But he hadn’t. He had never pushed himself to this point before.

His choices had led to this mont.

Each isolated event—muting notifications, overusing dragon tongue, draining his reserves, ignoring his inbox—had culminated in a perfect storm of tragedy.

And now, Jessica was dying.

The dagger plunged into her heart, a bloom of red staining her clothes. Greg’s eyes went wide. His wings faltered, his heart cracked.

He landed with a crash, tears streaming from his glowing golden eyes, now stained crimson with grief.

He punched the variant away with feral strength, sending it skidding through the blood-soaked ground.

Then he fell to his knees.

He gathered Jessica’s body into his arms. Her warmth was fading. Her breathing shallow. Her skin growing cold.

"Heal..." Greg mumbled in dragon tongue.

[Unable to use Dragon Tongue. Your pure mana reserve has been exhausted.]

The ssage popped up once more—mocking him.

His hands trembled. His jaw locked. His emotions spun out of control.

Tears fell freely as he clutched the love of his life.

He had been too late.