Reincarnated with a lucky draw system - Chapter 205

Chapter 205: MERE PERIPHERAL CHARACTERS
“Who the hell are you?” Geralt demanded, his voice laced with a sharp edge of suspicion that cut through the heavy silence, as he forced himself to regain composure after those few disorienting seconds spent staring at the mysterious stranger who had materialized before him like a specter from the void.

“I’m Aaron Highborn,” the man responded with an air of unshakeable authority, his tone steady and commanding, like the unyielding force of a tidal wave held in check. “And it appears to me that you are obstructing the path of my directives.” His gaze, sharp and assessing, finally fixed upon Geralt only after he had thoroughly scanned Edmond’s condition—the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the pallor of his skin drained by exertion, and the faint sheen of sweat that betrayed the toll of recent battles.

“So, you’re the one he’s been serving, huh?” Geralt retorted with a smug curl to his lips, his words dripping with condescension as he straightened his posture. “I strongly advise you to surrender immediately, before it’s far too late for regrets. You may delude yourself into thinking you’re formidable, but in truth, you’re merely a frog confined to its narrow well, oblivious to the boundless ocean beyond. You amount to absolutely nothing in the face of Havoc’s supremacy. No entity in existence can even begin to rival our lord’s unparalleled might.” Geralt’s boast echoed with renewed vigor, his confidence surging back in waves after the initial jolt of surprise had passed, bolstering his stance like an invisible armor forged from blind devotion.

“Is that so?” Aaron inquired, his voice a low murmur that carried an undercurrent of amused indifference. His golden irises, radiant and piercing like molten suns captured in crystalline form, began a gradual metamorphosis, the vibrant hue bleeding away into an inky blackness that absorbed all light around it. Simultaneously, his aura emanated from his body in a controlled seep, a dark energy that permeated the air with an oppressive chill, coiling around nearby objects and making the very atmosphere thicken with an intangible menace.

“Of course it is,” Geralt asserted boldly, his tone escalating with fervent conviction as he delved deeper into his tirade. “You evidently lack any comprehension of what attaining the eternal rank truly entails. It embodies the colossal power equivalent to an entire solar system condensed into a single being—the blistering radiance and destructive fury of a raging sun, combined with the gravitational pull and resilient mass of ten orbiting planets, all harnessed in harmonious devastation. That is the essence of Havoc’s indomitable strength, a force capable of reshaping galaxies at whim. Now, confess it, are you trembling with fear yet?” Geralt’s assurance ballooned even further as he vividly recounted his master’s legendary prowess, his eyes alight with the fanatic glow of unwavering loyalty, each word painting a picture of cosmic dominance that seemed to invigorate his very soul.

“I utterly despise individuals who wallow in the borrowed splendor of others, deriving false pride from the prowess of their superiors,” Aaron stated with serene finality, his expression unchanging as if delivering a mundane observation. “So long as your leader is anyone but me, you are fundamentally misguided in flaunting his power as your own shield. Because, ultimately, such figures are nothing more than peripheral characters, mere narrative devices engineered into the fabric of reality to highlight and affirm my own overwhelming supremacy.” As he concluded, his once-golden eyes had fully succumbed to the encroaching void, transforming into abyssal pits of unrelenting darkness that seemed to draw in the surrounding light, leaving an eerie absence where brilliance had reigned moments before.

“How dare you!” Geralt erupted in a thunderous yell, his features contorting with raw, unbridled fury that made his veins pulse visibly beneath his skin. Enraged by Aaron’s dismissive arrogance, he locked his stare onto the intruder with unfiltered malice, a hatred so potent it could almost manifest as a tangible force. The gem affixed to his forehead flared to life with an intense, radiant glow, illuminating the immediate vicinity in erratic bursts as he channeled every reserve of his power to ensnare Aaron within the intricate webs of his illusory domain, a mental prison designed to warp perceptions and shatter wills.

“Give up,” Aaron advised coolly, his demeanor undisturbed like a still pond reflecting a stormy sky. “That attempt won’t yield any results against me, not even if I afforded you an eternity to refine and perfect it.” In that instant, the illusion fragmented into oblivion before it could take hold, dissolving harmlessly like mist under the sun’s unrelenting gaze, leaving no trace of its intended entrapment upon Aaron’s unyielding mind.

“How…?” Geralt stammered in wide-eyed astonishment, his voice faltering as shock rippled across his face, etching lines of confusion where certainty had been etched just seconds prior.

“Because I am Aaron Highborn,” Aaron replied with an icy detachment that sent shivers through the air, his words precise and cutting like a blade forged from frost. “And regarding your claims about the eternal rank, you are profoundly mistaken if you assume Havoc is the sole entity to have ascended to that pinnacle.” With those words, he deliberately shifted his gaze away from Geralt, dismissing him as one might ignore an insignificant insect, the act carrying the weight of an irrevocable sentence.

“I’m going to die,” Geralt comprehended in a flash of terrifying clarity the very moment Aaron’s penetrating stare released him, the realization crashing over him like a frigid wave that numbed his senses. He was eerily accurate; in the subsequent heartbeat, he was abruptly consumed by infernal flames that materialized from nowhere, a scorching hellfire with tongues of crimson and obsidian that licked hungrily at his form, reducing him to a charred crisp amid agonized wails that echoed briefly before silence reclaimed the space.

“So,” Aaron pivoted smoothly toward Edmond, his voice maintaining its composed timbre despite the lingering scent of burnt flesh, “tell me, Edmond, who among you still dares to refuse submission?” The inquiry, delivered with deceptive calmness, pierced the atmosphere like a dagger, instilling profound chills that burrowed deep into the cores of all present, freezing their resolve and quickening their pulses with primal fear.

“We pledge our loyalty,” Luthor proclaimed without a moment’s delay, his voice quivering slightly as he collapsed to his knees in swift obedience, the hard ground jarring against his joints. In that instant, every remnant of stubborn resistance and inflated pride evaporated into utter insignificance, leaving behind only the bare essence of capitulation.

“As for you,” Aaron declared ominously, his focus now piercing through the ethereal projection to meet Bruce’s eyes with unrelenting coldness, “your demise is assured.” The statement hung like a death sentence, misphrased slightly in its delivery but clear in its fatal intent, the words resonating across the divide with the inevitability of a closing tomb.

“Impossible!” Bruce shrieked from his distant vantage, his voice a raw explosion of denial that shattered the composure of his surroundings. “He was immensely powerful, a veritable colossus! How could he succumb so effortlessly?!” In his frenzy, he flung the glass clutched in his grip aside, the vessel shattering against a nearby surface in a spray of fragments, while his eyes reddened to a bloodshot hue, bulging with the stubborn refusal to acknowledge the harsh truth unfolding before him.

“You bastard!” Bruce continued his outburst, his screams escalating into a cacophony of venomous rage, his face twisted into a grotesque mask of loathing. “You’ve obliterated everything I’ve built! I was on the cusp of claiming absolute dominion over Planet Astrid, dictating the destinies of its inhabitants from an unassailable position, reveling in impenetrable safeguards while functioning as His direct planetary overseer! Every detail was meticulously orchestrated, a flawless blueprint of ascension. You’ve demolished it all!!” His glare fixed upon Aaron’s image with a hatred so absolute it seemed to sear the air, burning with the intensity of a thousand scorned ambitions.

Aaron chose not to engage with the ravings of a deranged fool, maintaining a vigilant silence as he observed the scene unfold. Quietly, Bruce’s own shadow detached itself from the wall with eerie independence, rising like a sentient entity born from the depths of night, and from its form emerged a knife-like contour, a blade shaped from the very essence of obscurity, gripped firmly in its shadowy appendage.