Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse Chapter 501: • Hit, Dodge, Burn, Repeat

Chapter 501: • Hit, Dodge, Burn, Repeat

Anya’s crimson mana blazed like wildfire, a radiant inferno erupting from her fists as she charged forward with a feral roar. The ground cracked beneath her boots, every step a thunderclap of raw power.

She swung.

And missed.

Aiku’s coat fluttered as he leaned back, the punch narrowly skimming past his cheek. His golden eyes sparkled with mischief, and that damnable grin never left his face.

Another punch ca—faster, heavier, angrier.

Aiku twisted his torso, the blow whistling past his ribs, and with a lazy pirouette, he leapt backward over a broken street sign.

“Nice to see the Petrovas still carrying on the proud tradition,” Aiku said, dodging again as her gauntlet-shrouded fist shattered a concrete pillar behind him.

“All brawn—” he ducked.

Another punch.

“No brain.”

That one nearly took his jaw off.

Anya skidded to a halt, her wild hair snapping like a flag in the mana-charged wind. Her crimson eyes flared hotter, lips twitching into a snarl.

“I swear,” she growled, shoulders rising with her breath, “when I finally hit you, they’ll have to scoop what’s left of your smug face off the pavent!”

Aiku wagged a finger as if educating a toddler. “Temper, temper. No wonder the board hates working with you. I’m certain you must have used word of our jailbreak as a ans to excuse yourself from dealing with your responsibilities.”

And indeed she did.

Anya didn’t deny it.

Instead, she lunged forward again, her movents now sharper—less brute force, more calculated. It was clear she had decided to stop trying to simply crush him and had started aiming to corner him.

Aiku noticed.

“Oh?” he said, eyes narrowing with delight as he backflipped onto the twisted hood of an abandoned truck. “We’re thinking now? Soone call the Guild—Petrova’s evolving.”

Anya didn’t rise to the bait. She ducked low, slid under a fallen beam, and ca up fast—her fist igniting in a compressed spiral of mana that crackled with scarlet lightning.

Aiku’s eyes widened.

That’s new.

BOOM!

The truck exploded behind him just as he dodged, heat licking at his back, the force of the blow launching him forward. He rolled midair, landed with one hand on the cracked pavent, and slid backward several feet, boots kicking up dust.

He was still smiling.

“Okay,” he admitted, brushing soot off his shoulder. “That one almost singed my coat.”

Anya stomped forward, hands glowing, face set in an intense mask of focus.

“I’ve figured it out,” she said flatly.

Aiku tilted his head. “Do tell.”

“You’re not trying to win. You’re just having fun.”

He clapped mockingly. “Took you long enough.”

She was irritated, a vein throbbed at the side of her forehead.

She exploded forward again—and this ti, Aiku didn’t dodge.

CRACK!

Her punch connected.

Right in the gut.

Aiku gasped, the wind knocked clean out of him as he flew backward through a second-story wall, smashing through furniture and rebar before skidding across a tiled floor.

Anya cracked her knuckles and strode through the dust.

“Good,” she muttered. “That ans I can beat you half to death and still be the responsible one in the report.”

From within the rubble, Aiku’s groan floated up like a dying violin string.

“I take back everything I said about the Petrovas…” he wheezed. “…you definitely got so brains.”

He coughed, then laughed.

“Still can’t hit like your old man, though.”

Anya’s brow twitched.

Anya stood still.

Her fists were clenched, her shoulders trembling—not from exhaustion, but from fury. Her crimson mana exploded outward in a volatile blast that cracked the pavent around her, the sheer pressure pushing back loose rubble and forcing the air to bend with heat distortion.

Her voice trembled with rage.

“Are you looking down on ?!”

Aiku straightened from the rubble, brushing dust off his coat with exaggerated care. Then, with that infuriating smirk still plastered across his face, he said:

“What? Did I stutter?” He took a step forward, golden eyes gleaming like sunlight on a blade. “Thought your brain was finally working—but I guess I was wrong. Classic Petrova.”

Anya’s aura erupted again—wilder, hotter, more chaotic than ever.

Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

Her power collapsed inward, folding back into her body like a firestorm sucked into a vacuum. The debris fell still. Her red eyes glead beneath the curtain of her windblown hair as she tilted her head back and—

Laughed.

Low at first. Then louder. And louder.

Aiku blinked, caught off guard. “What… what’s so funny?”

Anya wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, her laughter sharp, almost unhinged.

“You know,” she said between chuckles, “for a second there… your smug little attitude reminded of soone I know.”

She stepped forward slowly, each footfall cracking the ground beneath her.

“But then I rembered—he wasn’t a coward.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips curling into a vicious grin.

“He didn’t dance around like a little rat, dodging punches like it was a damn ballet recital.”

She rolled her shoulders, mana beginning to rise again—but this ti, focused, refined.

“So when I compared you to him…” Her smirk deepened. “I couldn’t help but laugh.”

Aiku’s smile finally wavered—just slightly.

His golden eyes flickered—not with fear, but with sothing sharper.

Defensive.

Offended.

“That so?” he said lightly, voice still carrying that cocky undertone. “Must’ve been a real charr, this guy. What happened? He die of boredom hanging around you?”

Anya’s laughter vanished like a snuffed fla.

The air turned heavy.

Anya’s smile returned—but it was cold now, like a blade drawn slow.

“Oh, he’s very much alive… And if he were here…”

She took another step forward, her mana flaring like a crimson heartbeat.

“…you wouldn’t be smirking. You’d be begging.”

Aiku’s jaw tensed, just for a heartbeat. Anya saw it. She wanted him to see that she saw it.

“Compared to him?” she added, tilting her head. “You’re not even worth the warm-up.”

Anya suddenly leapt forward, her body a blur of crimson light as she launched herself toward Aiku. Her fist, crackling with condensed mana, scread through the air—aid straight for his smirking face.

It was going to hit.

Inches away—

SMACK.

He caught it.

Her eyes widened in shock. His hand was wrapped around her gauntleted fist, golden energy crackling up his arm like veins of light.

“I see,” Aiku said, his voice lower now, serious. “Then I guess…”

He tightened his grip, and a radiant pulse erupted from him, forcing Anya back a step even as he held her fast.

“…I have to take things more seriously.”

Behind him, the air shimred—and then bent.

A massive golden wheel materialized, rotating slowly in the void like a divine construct. It glead with ancient power, its surface etched with symbols and words written in a language lost to ti—each character glowing faintly, shifting between anings no mortal tongue could capture.

Anya felt the pressure in the air spike. Even her breath caught in her throat.

Aiku’s golden eyes t hers—now gleaming with sothing far more dangerous than mockery.

“Tell ,” he said, lips curling into a razor-edged smile.

“Are you up for a gamble?”