Reincarnated with a lucky draw system - Chapter 294

Chapter 294: SPAR AGAINST DRACULA III
Dracula had delivered a calculated kick to Aaron’s kneecap at a precise angle, applying just the right amount of force to a vulnerable spot. The strike was executed with surgical accuracy, exploiting a brief opening in Aaron’s defense.

He had cleverly obscured Aaron’s line of sight with the positioning of his upper body, masking the incoming attack while releasing no detectable intent or aura that Aaron’s heightened senses or primal instincts could anticipate or counter.

“I know everything about werewolves—more than the strongest alpha werewolf himself,” Dracula declared, following up seamlessly with a punch directed straight toward Aaron’s face. His fist cut through the air like a shadow, carrying devastating potential.

Dracula was compelled to halt his punch abruptly midway, twisting his body away to evade a sudden barrage of shadow spikes that Aaron unleashed toward him. The dark, jagged projectiles erupted from the ground with vicious speed, grazing the space he had occupied mere instants before.

“It’s good to see you are finally beginning to take this battle more seriously,” Dracula nodded his head in measured approval, creating a deliberate distance between himself and Aaron. His robe settled around him once more, the brief skirmish leaving the air humming with residual energy.

“I can’t have you keep beating me one-sidedly, Grandpa,” Aaron replied, pushing himself back to a standing position with gritted teeth. He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the lingering pain, his eyes burning with determination.

“This will be the first time I’m trying something like this. But against an opponent like you, it’s only wise I go all out,” Aaron muttered under his breath, his voice low and resolute. He centered himself, drawing upon deeper reserves of power.

Six wings erupted majestically from his back in a dramatic unfurling. Two belonged to the devil race, dark and sinister, with edges that seemed to threaten to devour any light in their vicinity while exuding a majestic, infernal allure;

two from the demon race, pitch black and equally sinister, but lacking the refined majesty and instead projecting raw, overwhelming intimidation;

and two from fallen angels, wings that had once been pure and holy but now radiated a corrupted, unholy aura that spoke of tragic descent and lost divinity.

Aaron’s eyes ignited with a vivid red glow, mirroring the intense crimson associated with vampires, piercing and hypnotic. Two prominent vampire fangs became visible in his teeth, adding a predatory sharpness to his grin.

His body remained firm and enhanced, retaining the physical traits of a werewolf’s raw power and resilience, although devoid of the typical white fur covering, his skin stretched taut over the bulging, defined muscles that pulsed with latent strength.

He was adorned with two curving horns reminiscent of an Oni, protruding boldly from his forehead with an aura of demonic ferocity. Atop his head rested a crown fashioned intricately from swirling souls and bleached bones, emanating a ghostly, ethereal glow that whispered of conquered spirits.

Runes etched themselves vividly across his body, pulsating rhythmically and glowing with intricate, shifting colors that danced like living art, weaving patterns of arcane mystery and power across his form.

The majority of these intricate runes concentrated densely along his entire arms, forming complex, interlocking lattices that hummed faintly with suppressed energy, ready to unleash torrents of force at his command.

A cloak made entirely of writhing, living shadows enveloped him, tightly fitted to his contours like a second skin, undulating subtly with every breath. Complementing it was a mask crafted from the same inky darkness, covering his mouth and adding an enigmatic, menacing veil to his visage.

Around Aaron, orbs manifested in a slow, orbiting rotation behind his back: spheres of time that warped the surrounding air with faint temporal distortions, space spheres that bent reality in subtle folds, flame spheres flickering with various hues of infernal fires that crackled hungrily, and Terra spheres pulsing with the solid, unyielding essence of ancient earth.

“Forgive me, Great Grandpa, for ever thinking of holding back against you,” Aaron said slowly to Dracula, his voice carrying a tone of sincere respect mingled with fierce determination.

He fully embraced the battle’s gravity, his transformed figure radiating an overwhelming presence that silenced the crowd’s whispers.

Aaron stared at Dracula with unwavering focus, his transformed body humming with raw, untamed power. The air between them crackled with tension, thick and electric, as if the very fabric of the arena anticipated the clash of titans. The spectators held their collective breath, the vast amphitheater falling into a hushed silence broken only by distant whispers.

“Come,” Dracula beckoned to Aaron with a calm, authoritative voice that resonated like a deep echo from ancient shadows. His tone carried the weight of centuries, commanding obedience without raising in volume, his red eyes gleaming with predatory intent.

Aaron made his move without hesitation, channeling his energy into action. He released several flame spheres toward Dracula, the orbs igniting in brilliant hues of crimson and gold, hurtling through the air with scorching trails that singed the atmosphere.

Dracula dodged the flame spheres effortlessly, his body a blur of graceful motion as he ran straight toward Aaron. His long robe trailed behind him like a banner of night, flowing smoothly with each precise step, his expression remaining stoically composed amid the assault.

But like homing missiles locked on their target, the flames altered their trajectories in a sharp 180-degree curve. They arced back with renewed ferocity, flames flickering hungrily as they pursued Dracula from behind, the heat warping the air in rippling waves.

Dracula sensed the returning flame spheres closing in, their intense warmth prickling against his skin. He didn’t halt to dodge them this time, continuing his relentless run toward Aaron, his strides unyielding and purposeful, closing the gap with calculated speed.

Aaron raised his arms, which glowed with intricate runes pulsing in vibrant colors. He cast a spell with focused intent, summoning bolts of lightning that twisted into serpentine forms, crackling with electric energy that illuminated the arena in stark flashes.

The lightning serpents surrounded Dracula like a predator encircling its prey, their bodies coiling and hissing with volatile power. They left only one apparent escape route, a deliberate gap designed to funnel him into a trap, the air buzzing with ozone and latent danger.