Chapter 5: Draconic Devourer

The sudden, silent bloom of a translucent cyan panel in the empty space before him made Craig’s breath hitch.

He recoiled, his back pressing against the carved wooden headboard of his bed.

His hand instinctively twitched toward his hip for a sword that was not there, his veteran muscle memory taking over before his mind could process the anomaly.

Hovering silently in the ambient morning light, the ethereal window pulsed with cold, sharp text.

[ UPDATING HOST DATABASE ]

• Name: Craig von Darkstar

• Title: Baron of Lucerion / Seventh Young Master of Darkstar

• Age: 15

"What the hell is this?" Craig muttered, his voice raspy.

He slapped his cheek hard, the stinging pain radiating through his jaw, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not trapped in a fever dream.

He blinked rapidly, expecting the illusion to shatter, but the rectangular panel remained anchored in mid-air.

He lunged forward, thrusting his hand directly toward the glowing glass.

His fingers passed cleanly through the light, meeting nothing but ambient air, though the text remained perfectly visible to his golden eyes.

He narrowed his gaze, carefully analyzing the lines etched before him.

His name, his territorial title over the frontier Barony of Lucerion, and his youthful age were all startlingly accurate.

Before he could fully digest the anomaly, the text melted away, replaced by a fresh notification.

[ YOU HAVE COMPLETED YOUR FIRST TASK ]

• Task: Regress twenty-five years into the past.

• Reward: 1 Golden Gift Box

[ WOULD YOU LIKE TO OPEN YOUR REWARD? ]

• [ YES ] / [ NO ]

Craig stared at the floating prompt, a deep furrow forming between his brows.

His mind, sharpened by twenty-five years of bloody warfare and military command, struggled to reconcile the logic.

Regression itself was a phenomenon that defied the known laws of nature—a miracle he had assumed was driven by higher dimensional forces or sheer cosmic chance.

Yet, this interface treated his return to the past as nothing more than an accomplished objective.

Driven by a mixture of deep suspicion and intense curiosity, Craig focused his intent on the affirmative option.

Yes.

Ding!

A sharp, crystal-clear chime vibrated in the marrow of his skull, echoing through the quiet chamber.

[ CONGRATULATION! YOU HAVE RECEIVED THE BLESSING OF THE ANCIENT DRAGON GOD ]

[ YOU HAVE AWAKENED TWO SPECIAL-GRADE TALENTS ]

"I have... what?" Craig’s voice cracked.

His golden eyes widened in genuine shock, his heart skipping a heavy beat against his ribs.

Before he could voice the storm of questions brewing in his mind, the interface expanded, detailing the reward.

[ REWARD DETAILS ]

• Talent: Divine Draconic Physique (Special-Grade)

• Status: One-Time Consumable / Passive

• Talent: Draconic Devourer (Special-Grade)

• Status: Partially Awakened

"Two Talents?" Craig whispered, his breath hitching as he stared blankly at the glowing text.

"And both are Special-Grades?"

A heavy, suffocating silence settled over the room as the magnitude of what he was reading crashed down upon him.

He knew better than anyone the absolute truth of this world.

When the Black Winter descended a century ago, those exposed to the toxic tide of mana radiation faced a simple fate: they either formed a mana core or mutated into mindless abominations.

For ordinary humans, awakening a core was the ultimate boundary line.

It turned them into Superhumans—warriors who transcended mortal limits, gaining terrifying speed, strength, and heightened senses to stand as humanity’s frontline shield.

Yet, within the ranks of Superhumans, a vast divide existed.

Only a select few awakened a Talent—a supernatural, mystical authority bound directly to their bloodline or soul.

Those who possessed a Talent were granted the elevated title of Rankers.

While a standard Superhuman could train for decades to master basic sword techniques or spellcraft, a Ranker possessed an innate, rule-breaking power that elevated them above ordinary mortals.

In his previous life, Craig had failed his Dragon’s Calling Ceremony.

His mana core had awakened sluggish and severely damaged due to Arya’s poisoned tea. He had never awakened a Talent.

Throughout his entire forty-five years of life, despite clawing his way up to become the Archduke of the West through sheer stubbornness, blood, and military genius.

He had remained a pure Superhuman—the only non-Ranker to ever sit upon the throne of the Darkstar Duchy.

Talents were categorized across distinct paths: Elemental, Space, Spell, Blade, Tyrant, and Transformation.

They were strictly graded from E-Grade to S-Grade, establishing a Ranker’s absolute ceiling and growth proficiency.

Each Talent’s Grade has its own limitations and for that reason was Craig’s shocking reaction.

Craig swallowed hard, his throat dry.

Above S-Grade sat the mythic Special-Grades—powers so monstrously rare that only a handful existed across the entire continent.

They were forces capable of warping the balance of entire empires.

It was rumored that those who awakened Special-Grade Talents were qualified to ascend the realms of gods.

And now, the panel floating before him claimed he held two of them.

His eyes locked onto the second line of text, analyzing his awakened ability:

Draconic Devourer.