Red Dragon Spaceship Awakening: I Gain Alien Abilities on Mars-Chapter 202: The Viking
Tatehan went on, his voice steady but growing more urgent as he laid out the full scope of what they were facing.
He talked about the pattern of attacks, how they were not random or opportunistic strikes by a desperate enemy, but planned and calculated assaults designed to test defenses, exploit weaknesses, and demoralize entire populations.
He explained how the Obscuron’s forces were not just numerous but diverse, each wave tailored to the specific vulnerabilities of the city being targeted. He spoke about the intelligence behind the attacks, the way the enemy adapted and evolved with each confrontation, learning from failures and refining tactics with terrifying efficiency.
He hadn’t witnessed this but when he spoke with the commander, she had mentioned something about how they adapted and all that shit.
He talked about the cost. Not just in lives, though that alone was staggering, but in resources, in morale and in the slow erosion of hope that came from watching your home be torn apart again and again with no clear end in sight.
He talked about the fear that was beginning to take root in the civilian populations, the way people were starting to wonder if survival was even possible, if there was any point in rebuilding when the next attack could come at any moment.
And then he talked about what it would take to stop it. Not just to survive, but to actually push back, to turn the tide and put the Obscuron on the defensive for once. It would require cooperation on a scale that Mars had never seen before. It would require cities that had spent decades operating independently, pursuing their own interests and protecting their own borders, to suddenly start thinking collectively. It would require trust, and trust was a commodity in short supply.
But it was possible. He told them it had to be possible. Because the alternative was extinction.
When he finally finished, Tatehan sat down, his hands resting on the table in front of him. His heart was pounding, though he kept his expression neutral. He had said what needed to be said. Whether it would be enough, he did not know.
For a few seconds, no one spoke. The silence in the room was rather too absolute, broken only by the faint hum of the ventilation system.
And then the leader of New Helios stood.
The movement was slow, deliberate, and somehow deeply unsettling. The man rose to his full, imposing height, his shoulders rolling back, his hands resting on the table as he leaned forward slightly. His face was hard.
When he spoke, his voice was deep and rough, the kind of voice that carried authority without needing to be raised.
"Normally," the Viking said, his pale eyes going across the room, "we would not have attended this meeting."
He paused, letting the words settle, his gaze flicking briefly to each of the other leaders before returning to Tatehan.
"New Helios is one of the strongest cities on this planet. We do not ask for help. We do not depend on others. Our people are warriors, trained from childhood to survive and conquer. We have faced threats that would have destroyed lesser settlements, and we have endured. We do not ally with the weak."
There was no arrogance in his tone, just cold, factual certainty. This was not a boast... at least to him, only a statement of reality.
"But," the Viking continued, his expression darkening, "We are not fools. And we know when we are facing something that cannot be overcome through strength alone."
He straightened, his hands leaving the table, his arms crossing over his broad chest.
"One month ago, the Obscuron sent forces into our territory. Not just raiders or scavengers. This was a battle commander, three hundred warriors under his command. They well trained, disciplined to the cause and well-armed."
The Viking’s squinted his eyes, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—anger actually.
"We fought them. We won. But it was not without cost."
"Thirty of our warriors were taken. Kidnapped during the chaos of the battle. Thirty of New Helios’s finest, dragged away into to the obscuron, and we still do not know where they are or what has been done to them."
The room was silent. Even the man from Reon Outpost, who had been fidgeting slightly in his seat, had gone completely still.
The Viking’s gaze hardened. "We are strong. But we cannot fight the Obscuron alone. That much is clear. So when we heard about this meeting, we were skeptical. Another gathering of words and promises, we thought. Another waste of time."
He turned his head slightly, nodding to one of his guards. "But then we saw this."
A guard of his stepped forward, raising a small device and tapping a command into its surface. The air above the table shimmered, and a holographic projection materialized, floating in the center of the room.
The recording began to play.
Tatehan’s heartbeat spiked. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖
The footage was...
The first clip showed a figure in sleek, silver armor fighting in the sky above a battlefield, locked in combat with another armored figure: Cherak.
The two of them clashed in the air, energy blasts and kinetic strikes lighting up the sky, the figure in white armor had sent a punch to cherak, something that had sent him down and killed him, and then the silver-armored figure was falling, plummeting toward the ground at terminal velocity.
The clip cut, and the next one began.
The same armored figure, now on the ground, moving through the wreckage of a city district. And then, rising into view, the Boulder-Back Behemoth, a towering mass of stone and muscle, its roar shaking the camera feed. The armored figure charged, going between the creature’s strikes, using gravity manipulation to hurl debris and destabilize its footing, throwing it punches that killed it, fighting with a speed and precision that bordered on inhuman.
Another cut...another clip.
This time, the armored figure was facing the Mech Monster, dodging plasma fire, phasing through attacks... (jumping from an exploding Skyblade).
The recording ended, the hologram flickering out and leaving only silence.
The Viking spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.
"Someone in fancy knight’s armor doing all of those incredible things intrigued me. And when I learned that this person had called for this meeting, I decided it was worth attending."
His gaze swept across the room, sharp and assessing.
"Where is he?"
Tatehan felt every eye in the room turn toward him. His pulse quickened, but he kept his expression neutral, raising one hand slightly as if to speak.
The Viking’s eyes landed on him, and the man’s expression shifted (just slightly) into something that might have been amusement or dismissal.
"It certainly cannot be you," the Viking said, his tone almost casual. "You look far too young. And not nearly bulk enough to be the man I just showed."
The other three leaders nodded in agreement, their expressions ranging from polite skepticism to outright disbelief.
Tatehan felt a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could not help it.
How could they not think that he was the Knight!
I mean, wasn’t it obvious. Wasn’t they supposed to know by just looking at his face?
But they didn’t...
They didn’t know that the dude who was doing all those fancy fighting was sitted with them here. They had no idea.
’Eh... what had I been expecting, it’s not like it’s on my face or something that I’m the cool figure in fancy armor, of course they wouldn’t know. And by the way, I’ve tried to keep my identify secret, not let the camera catch my face when in the armor.’
Well..., now they would know.
Slowly and deliberately, Tatehan stood.
The room fell silent again, every gaze on him.
And then, with a single thought, he summoned his armor.
The transformation was instantaneous. Silver dusty stuff erupted from his nowhere, spreading across his body in a cascading wave of speed and accuracy. It flowed over his chest, his arms, his legs, hardening into interlocking plates of sleek, futuristic design. The helmet materialized last, segments sliding into place around his head, the visor clicking shut with a faint hiss as the internal systems came online.
The entire process took less than two seconds.
Tatehan stood there, fully armored, his eyes glowing red through the visor.
[Congratulations host, you have farmed Aura]
[You have gained knowledge points from farming Aura]
[HOST STATUS]
Name: Tatehan
Level: 12
Species: Human (Enhanced)
Knowledge: 193/200 [+5]
Repair Points: 57/100
[ABILITIES]
• Gravity Manipulation - Level 12
• Regeneration (Partial) - Level 8
• Enhanced Durability - Level 3
• Heightened Perception - Level 5
• Phase Shift - Level 2
• Force Multiplication - Level 2
[INVENTORY:]
[Shadow Goblin Cores: 0 total]
[Tri-Edge Shadow Chakram]
[Serrated Heavy Chakram]
[Backpack]
[Armor]
[Novels]
[Shadow-Forged Blade]
[Kinetic Absorption Armor]
[Devastator Hand Cannon]
[Core from the Destroyed Fortress]
And then, in a voice amplified and modulated by the helmet’s speakers, deep and resonant and carrying the confidence that he had just shocked everyone in here, he spoke.
"I AM THE KNIGHT."
