Reincarnated with a lucky draw system - Chapter 298

Chapter 298: SPAR AGAINST DRACULA VII
Dracula stood still, now left with only his formidable physical abilities to wage the fight.

It felt like a near-suicidal endeavor, considering the vast arsenal of abilities Aaron commanded at his beck and call, each one a tool of overwhelming versatility and destruction.

Aaron bent space with a subtle twist of his will, vanishing from his position in a ripple of distorted reality.

He reappeared silently behind Dracula, the transition instantaneous, positioning himself for a decisive strike from the blind spot.

Dracula turned swiftly, his instincts honed by eons of survival kicking in.

He threw a powerful swing toward Aaron’s face, his fist cutting through the air with blistering speed, aimed to crush bone and end the exchange.

But he realized too late that his hand had been severed cleanly before it could even touch Aaron.

The cut was precise and swift, blood spraying in a brief arc as the limb detached, the pain registering as a sharp, burning sensation that he pushed aside with iron will.

Dracula continued his motion undeterred, hurling his severed arm toward Aaron like a improvised projectile.

The assaulting pain throbbed through his body, but it was insufficient to bring the lord of eternal night to his knees; his resolve remained unbreakable, forged in the fires of countless wars.

Aaron wore a smile on his face, satisfaction gleaming in his hollow eye sockets. Utilizing his Primordial Terra talent, he summoned unyielding rock that surged from the ground, encasing Dracula’s lower half in a solid, immovable prison that rooted him firmly to the earthen platform.

“I’ve got you, Great Grandpa. All you can use now is one arm, with no way of moving. It’s your loss, right?” Aaron asked, his voice laced with triumphant amusement.

The smile lingered on his skeletal features, a mix of respect and victory as he loomed over the pinned vampire.

“If only you were my direct son, this universe would have been long conquered. But you underestimate me in thinking that I need mana to use my abilities,” Dracula said, his words throwing Aaron off balance.

His tone was calm, almost paternal, carrying the weight of hidden depths yet to be revealed.

From Dracula’s chest, blood spikes elongated suddenly, thrusting outward like living spears.

They stabbed into Aaron at several critical points, the crimson tendrils piercing bone with brutal efficiency, lifting him off the ground in a display of raw dominance.

“Urgh,” Aaron groaned in pain, his body suspended helplessly in the air.

The spikes held him aloft, twisting slightly to secure their grip, agony radiating from each puncture like fire through his undead frame.

The attack from Dracula had caught him completely by surprise.

The timing overlapped almost perfectly with Aaron’s premonitions, showcasing the blinding speed behind the blood spikes, far surpassing their previous velocity and catching even his heightened senses off guard.

“How?” Aaron groaned through gritted teeth, still dangling in mid-air.

The difficulty of breaking free intensified as the spikes embedded deeply into the bones of his skeletal form, anchoring him with unyielding tenacity.

“I may still be in the galactic rank because of the regression of my body. But my soul has broken beyond the sovereign rank to a rank where I am now confined to using a universe essence to power my abilities,” Dracula explained to Aaron.

His voice remained steady, a lecturer unveiling profound secrets amid the chaos of battle.

Dracula studied the surprised look etched on Aaron’s skeletal face, the hollow sockets widening slightly in realization.

He paused briefly, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing his revelations.

“While my body, the vessel, is still restricted by the laws of this universe, my soul has since transcended the confines of this universe and reached the paradox rank. A rank where I need the essence of the universe I come from, but at the same time, I don’t. A rank where you create your own essence outside the confine of the universe.”

“Although I can rarely use it due to the limitations of my soul’s vessel, I can wield it for at least a minute,” Dracula muttered softly, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly crimson hue.

The air around him seemed to darken, shadows deepening in response to the power stirring within.

[Aaron, give up. You have lost this round.]

“What nonsense are you talking a…”

Aaron raised his head in sudden surprise, staring upward at the blood now covering the sky like a ominous canopy.

It blanketed the arena in a veil of crimson darkness, blotting out the stars with its expansive reach.

The blood wasn’t the usual vibrant red that Dracula commanded, but one as dark as the night itself, devoid of stars or moon. It absorbed light hungrily, casting the entire amphitheater into an eerie twilight, the spectators shifting uneasily in their seats.

“I don’t need to move in order to attack,” Dracula informed Aaron calmly, his pinned form belying the overwhelming control he still exerted.

His voice carried across the distance, laced with quiet certainty.

Aaron didn’t panic, attempting to seize control of the blood with focused will.

But his efforts failed utterly, the dark essence slipping through his grasp like smoke, unresponsive to his commands.

[You can’t control the blood. That’s not actually blood but his essence. Quite the smart guy to pick blood as his essence.]

Aaron isolated the space around the night blood in the sky, creating pockets of warped reality to contain it and prevent its descent.

The barriers shimmered faintly, folding the void in on itself to trap the advancing tide.

But even that proved futile as the night blood tore through the spatial confines with effortless brutality.

It ripped the barriers asunder, continuing its inexorable advance toward Aaron, undeterred by the distortions.

[You lose, Aaron. Not because of skills, but because of difference in rank.]

The system consoled Aaron in his mind, its voice a pragmatic whisper amid the chaos.

All of Aaron’s desperate attempts to halt the night blood’s approach proved ineffective, the essence flowing onward like an unstoppable river.

Aaron was forced to a metaphorical wall, his options dwindling rapidly as he searched for an escape.