Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 387: UNMOVED ARROGANCE

"I lost to the Celestial Devourer. I couldn’t defeat him or protect my home alone without support," Jordan replied.

Truth rang clear in his admission, the pain of loss a subtle undercurrent beneath his calm exterior.

"You have seen the Celestial Devourer? What was he like?" Nick pressed further.

Interest sharpened his gaze, leaning in slightly as if drawing out secrets from the void.

"Strong. Covered in shadow constantly. I couldn’t see his face," Jordan answered.

The description hung mysteriously, evoking images of an elusive phantom amid the stars.

"Very well. You will return with me to Aiz. We will have much to discuss when we return to my province," Nick informed Jordan.

His decision was final, finding the survivor’s words insightful, a potential asset in the unfolding hunt.

Jordan nodded his head in acknowledgment. Acceptance came without protest, his posture remaining composed.

"Lord Nick, it’s an honor to be in your service," the general appeared suddenly.

He hurried forward after catching wind of Nick’s status, voice dripping with opportunistic flattery.

His earlier envy twisted into eager subservience.

Nick stared at the general briefly.

He refrained from responding, his silence deliberate and cutting.

Accustomed to such sycophants, he offered nothing, letting the dismissal linger.

The general’s face turned sour. Realization dawned that Nick had deliberately ignored him, humiliation burning in his cheeks like fresh wounds.

"You. Won’t you show some respect to the governor?" the general barked.

Desperate to evade embarrassment, he pivoted to pick on Jordan, voice rising in false authority.

Jordan ignored him completely.

The general held little value in his eyes, barely registering amid the vast bay’s hum.

"Did you not hear what I said? Not paying respect to the governor is grounds for treason and execution," the general tried again.

His threat rang hollow, grasping at power that slipped through his fingers.

"Stop yapping. Say one more thing to me, and you will die a gruesome death," Jordan warned coldly.

His starry eyes fixed on the general like a predator stalking prey, the black blade at his side humming faintly with latent menace.

"You! how dare you threaten me in—"

"Enough! Stop your bickering at once," Nick ordered sharply.

His voice cut through like a whip. "You talk too much for a general. And you, pay your respect."

"I don’t bow to others," Jordan replied. His tone held no fear, defiance quiet but absolute.

The general smiled inwardly.

A spark of malicious satisfaction lit his eyes, believing his provocation had borne fruit.

Jordan stared at him briefly.

He knew full well the general had gotten what he wanted, a chance to undermine him, but he remained unfazed.

His mind had been made up from the very beginning, principles etched deeper than fleeting politics.

"What did you say?" Nick asked. His eyes grew cold, anger and displeasure radiating as he stared at Jordan.

The reptilian slits narrowed dangerously, his aura pressing heavier, the bay’s lights casting elongated shadows that seemed to coil with threat.

"I don’t bow to anyone," Jordan repeated without fear.

His voice rang clear and unwavering, head held high, the constellation glow in his eyes burning brighter against the encroaching tension.

The platform fell silent, the weight of defiance hanging like an unspoken challenge amid the distant thrum of engines.

Nick stared into Jordan’s eyes.

The reptilian slits of his pupils narrowed to thin, venomous lines, irritation boiling into outright insult at the young man’s unyielding defiance.

The air grew thicker, charged with the unspoken challenge hanging between them like a taut wire ready to snap.

"I will give you one last chance to right your wrong," Nick warned.

His voice dropped low, each word laced with menace that echoed faintly off the vast platform’s metallic walls.

"Or I may be forced to deal with you however I see fit."

The threat lingered, cold and deliberate, the faint hiss of coolant vapors from the docked vessels underscoring the gravity of his words.

"Stop trying. I already told you. I don’t bow to anyone," Jordan replied evenly.

His refusal came without hesitation, the starry constellations in his eyes swirling steadily, unflinching under Nick’s glare.

He stood tall, the black blade at his side humming softly, as if echoing his resolute calm amid the growing tension.

"Hah. You must have grown arrogant just from fending off some nobodies," Nick spoke.

A sharp, mocking laugh escaped him, devoid of humor, twisting his features into a predatory sneer.

"Very well. I should put you in your place."

The words dripped with condescension, his posture shifting subtly, muscles coiling beneath his ornate attire like a serpent preparing to strike.

Nick released his aura without further warning.

A crushing pressure erupted from him, an invisible wave of demonic and basilisk power that slammed into everyone present like a gravitational tide.

The platform groaned faintly under the strain, loose debris skittering across the grating as the air ionized with raw, oppressive energy.

The scent of ozone sharpened, mingling with the cold metallic tang of the bay.

The general and administrator were the first to buckle.

Their knees hit the deck with painful thuds, bodies trembling as the force drove them down, faces contorted in strain.

Sweat beaded instantly on their brows, breaths coming in ragged gasps against the unrelenting weight.

Then the special forces that Lilian had gathered followed.

One by one, even the elite warriors crumpled, armor clanking loudly as they were forced to the ground.

Groans of effort filled the space, their pride shattered under the sheer dominance radiating from Nick.

Only three people remained standing amid the sea of bowed figures.

Nick himself, exuding the aura with effortless control, his smile now a cold slash of triumph.

Lilian, her composure strained but unbroken, her robes fluttering slightly in the disturbed air, eyes wide with a mix of alarm and quiet defiance.

And Jordan, unmoved, his starry gaze steady, the pressure sliding off him like water from impervious stone.

"Just... bow... and don’t incur his wrath..." the administrator tried reasoning with Jordan.

His voice strained through gritted teeth, face pressed toward the floor, body shaking from the effort of speaking against the aura’s crush.

Desperation colored his plea, fear for the young savior mingling with his own humiliation.

Jordan, though, had his mind made up.

He offered no response, his silence a defiant wall, posture straight and unyielding as ever.

"I don’t want him to bow anymore," Nick demanded.

His face twisted with anger at being disregarded by what he saw as a nobody, reptilian eyes flashing with dark intent.

"I want you to kneel." The command boomed, the aura intensifying, pressing harder like an invisible vice aimed squarely at Jordan.

"I’m not bowing. Give it up," Jordan said stubbornly.

His refusal rang clear, voice calm yet firm, cutting through the oppressive hum without a tremor.

"Then there’s no need for you to be alive," Nick said coldly.

His patience shattered, the words a death sentence delivered with icy finality.

In a blur of motion, he moved swiftly, body vanishing in a ripple of distorted space, closing the distance like a predator lunging for the kill.