Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 144 - 143 - A Tale.

Raven’s gaze stayed fixed on Graye, but his thoughts swirled with the weight of Omni’s revelation.

’Divinity? Tale? What even—’

He cut himself off and muttered mentally, ’So what now, smart sword? I just hit him with enough force to realign his past trauma. If I get serious, can I beat him?’

"No."

Omni’s voice rang back immediately.

Raven blinked. ’What do you mean, no? You know I’m sure, don’t you?’

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Omni huffed. "But this dude’s got a Tale, bro. Capital T. And from what I’m sniffin’ through this divine soup, it’s related to fighting. Like, not in a ’likes to fight’ kind of way. I mean in a ’literally gets stronger the more you fight him’ kinda cheat-code tale."

Raven’s face remained blank, but mentally, he screamed, ’That’s not a tale, that’s a cursed perk from hell!’

"Facts."

Omni’s voice dropped into a serious tone. "Until I figure out what kind of tale this nut’s running with, don’t engage. Just stall. I just need a little time."

’How long is a little?’ Raven thought, eyes still locked on Graye, who was now doing exaggerated knee circles.

"If I wasn’t restricted? Half a blink. But with these damn seals on me? Gimme like... a minute."

Raven’s expression shifted subtly. "...Huh?"

’What seals?’ He asked inwardly.

Graye, however, hearing his ’Huh?’ tilted his head. "Did you say something?"

"No," Raven replied dryly, waving a hand like he was shooing a fly, while internally losing it. ’What do you mean, seals? Since when do you have restrictions?!’

Omni’s tone suddenly became defensive—like a dog who just got caught chewing through drywall.

"Well, technically... since forever."

’...Go on.’

"Okay, okay! So. Uhm. I was too strong, alright? Like way too strong. Back when you inherited me, if I was at full power, just holdin’ me would’ve killed you. You were basically a toddler with a rocket launcher. So, for your safety, seven restrictions were automatically placed."

’SEVEN?!’

"It’s fine! Totally normal god-sword stuff! Look, you’re unlocking them gradually. You popped one seal the second you laid a finger on me—bam! That’s why I’m slicin’ through everything like warm butter on payday!"

Raven rubbed his temple. Out loud, he muttered, "I hate how that actually makes sense."

Graye blinked. "You good?"

"Yes," Raven said, forcing a smile that looked more like a dental emergency. "I’m just... preparing my ’combat soul.’"

Graye nodded solemnly like he totally bought it.

Inside Raven’s head, Omni cleared his non-existent throat.

"Anyway, focus on stalling. Let me read this dude’s tale before you end up punching your way into divine retribution."

"Fine," Raven muttered. "One minute."

Then, Raven stood still for three seconds.

Graye waited in his stance.

The crowd... stared.

Silence. Awkward, tangible silence.

"...So, are they doing a dramatic stare-down?" Someone asked from the stands.

"I think so," replied another. "Wait, no—he blinked. Does that count as action?"

Jake squinted his eyes.

Rufus folded his arms. "He’s... doing something. Probably."

Jessy tilted her head. "Is it just me, or is he pretending to strategize when he’s just stalling?"

Clara frowned. "No. He’s definitely stalling."

Siris was whispering "tension buildup" while doodling dramatic anime lines in the dirt with her finger.

Selena frowned. "It isn’t normal, is it?"

Lia, her face slightly pink, nodded mutely. "...I think so."

............................

Back in the Arena.

Graye tilted his head. "Uhm... are you ready?"

Raven didn’t respond. He suddenly turned... and crouched.

The crowd leaned forward.

Then Raven—

Started doing push-ups.

One.

Two.

Three.

Graye stared. "Is... is this a ritual?"

Raven continued, casually muttering just loud enough for the nearest judges to hear. "Warming up. Can’t risk pulling a muscle since I know you are strong."

He shifted to a plank. Then casually did a one-handed handstand push-up. Then midair sit-ups.

Omni, meanwhile, was yelling inside his head. "THIRTY SECONDS. Keep it up!"

"Fine," Raven whispered and stood up—suddenly raising one hand dramatically to the crowd.

The entire arena froze.

Then—

He pointed to the sky.

The sun glinted off his finger. The clouds parted slightly.

The audience collectively leaned in.

Raven took a deep breath and declared, "Bird."

Everyone blinked.

A lone bird flapped by overhead.

"...He’s pointing at a bird?" Someone whispered.

"IT’S A SIGN!" Screamed one of Raven’s more fanatical fans, bursting into tears. "THE PHOENIX OF FATE HAS AWAKENED!"

Someone else yelled, "MY COUSIN OWES ME TEN SILVER, I SAID HE’D DO SOMETHING WEIRD!"

Even Graye tilted his head. "Nice bird."

Raven nodded solemnly. "It reminds me of something."

Graye: "...What?"

Raven looked him dead in the eye and said, "Birds."

Graye nodded like that was profound.

The time, however, was passing, as only ten seconds remained.

Raven suddenly yawned and stretched his arms like someone halfway through a yoga routine.

He looked at the announcer. "What’s the time limit for dramatic pauses again?"

The announcer turned toward the judges, his expression stuck between uncertainty and confusion.

The judges, however, shook their heads, so the announcer replied, "Uh—there isn’t one, technically."

"Excellent," Raven said as if this were all part of some ancient Vaise ritual.

.....................

Exactly one minute passed.

Raven was now balancing on one foot with his hands doing tai-chi-like motions in the air, looking like a monk who’d just discovered interpretive dance.

Graye was copying him out of politeness.

The audience had gone from confused to captivated to questioning their own intelligence.

Then—

"Shit!"

Omni’s voice exploded inside Raven’s head like a firecracker in a library.

Raven froze mid-motion. ’Finally. What is it?’

"This guy’s rockin’ a high-level Tale, my dude!"

Raven mentally narrowed his eyes. ’Did you decipher it?’

"Pfft—of course I did, who you talkin’ to? I’m Omni, baby. The blade with more brains than your average war council."

’So what’s the tale?’

"It’s called..." Omni’s voice dipped into dramatic echo mode. "The Undefeated Path of Iron Rebellion."

Raven blinked slowly. ’Sounds edgy. What does it do?’

"Basically? It makes this lunatic impossible to beat in a straight-up fight unless your Tale game’s stronger. His tale makes him adapt, evolve, and dominate as long as the battle’s fair and direct. The longer you fight, the harder he hits back. Like a roided-up cockroach with plot armor."

’Wait. That sounds illegal.’

"It is! But divine tales are broken by design, man. Think of ’em like cheat codes for reality, written in gold ink and notarized by the universe."

Raven internally sighed, mentally cracking his neck. ’Alright... So now, tell me—what is a Tale, exactly? You’ve been name-dropping it like a flex this whole time, but I still have no clue what it even is.’

"Man, this is gonna be long." Omni took a deep breath, or at least what seemed like a deep breath.

"Okay, so peep this: a Tale is an accomplishment. A real one. Somethin’ you did so insane, so world-shakin’, that the Universal Will itself paused Netflix, looked down, and went, ’Daaaaamn.’"

Raven squinted. ’How do you know Netflix—No, what does Netflix have to—’

"Wait, I’m paintin’ a picture! Now—think of it like this: let’s say you were a mortal who bodied a god in a 1v1. Boom. That’s a Tale. The higher the difficulty, the stronger the Tale. You get a bunch of perks, buffs, plot immunity—like a divine resume stapled to your soul."

’...Okay. Then why don’t I have one? I literally have divinity. Where’s my fancy resume?’

Omni paused. Then he laughed.

"AHAHA! Ohhh, my sweet summer dumbass. You think just havin’ divinity is enough? Nah, fam. If weakass randos could form tales just by trippin’ into a god-tier power-up, then tales wouldn’t be rare. You gotta be seen, bro. Noticed. You gotta do somethin’ so wild the Universal Will can’t ignore it. And right now? You ain’t even a footnote."

Raven winced. ’...I hate how that insult was both savage and accurate.’

He folded his arms, staring at Graye, who was now stretching by slapping his thighs and yelling, "Focus mode!"

’But wait. Graye doesn’t look that strong either. He’s like... fourth or fifth layer knight, tops. So how the hell does he have a tale?’

Omni made a thoughtful click.

"Ah, see, that’s the loophole. His tale’s inherited. Probably from a parent. When a god’s dyin’, they can pass their tale to someone if they’re willin’—and only once. Think of it like a divine hand-me-down."

’So... someone gave him that OP story cheat?’

"Yup. Probably his daddy or mama. Left him a divine insurance policy. Lucky punk."

Raven muttered out loud, "Nepo baby."

Graye perked up. "What was that?"

Raven smiled calmly. "Your hair looks... like a neatly combed baby."

Graye beamed. "Thanks! My dad always combs it for me before I go out to fight—"

Raven immediately raised a hand. "Don’t care."

Graye blinked.

Both of them ignored the fact that Graye was wearing full body armor, which included his helmet.

Back in his head, Raven hissed, ’So what now? You said I can’t beat him unless I have a higher tale. Do I just throw in the towel? Are we forfeiting out here?’

Omni paused.

"You wanna forfeit?"

’No.’

It was Raven’s pride as a Vaise that made him say that.

He didn’t want to forfeit without even fighting. His girls were watching.

Omni chuckled as if he had expected that response. "Then, we just gotta play dirty. Trick the tale."

Raven raised an eyebrow. ’Trick the tale?’

"Oh yeah, baby. No such thing as a perfect story—every tale’s got an angle. He got one as well. So, it’s time to outplot the plot armor."

Raven exhaled slowly and cracked his knuckles.

Then he looked at Graye with a solemn nod.

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