Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 423: DEVOURING FEAR II

Aaron paused mid-step on the metallic platform, his mind racing like a storm unleashed across the void. The system’s warning hit him like a sudden brake on his accelerating actions, pulling him back from the edge of unchecked hunger.

"Then why unblock it if the risk is great?" Aaron asked, his voice low and edged with suspicion.

Slowly, he wondered if he had to refrain from devouring fear entirely, step back from this intoxicating power before it consumed him instead.

[Cause you need it more. The healing of your soul, and improving of your strength. You now possess a mystic organ and need a lot of strength for the events that follow.]

"And the risks? Can you stop this ambiguous answering?" Aaron asked, irritation flaring hot in his chest.

[You should finish up. You lack the time. We can always have this conversation later. Time is of the essence.]

"So you are saying I should devour their fears? Or I shouldn’t? Pick a side." Aaron asked, ignoring the system’s advice.

[Devour it in good faith that you will find a solution in the future.]

"Don’t like the sound of that, but ok," Aaron agreed, a reluctant nod to himself as he pushed down the unease.

The system’s words carried weight, a promise of future clarity amid present necessity.

He straightened his posture, shadows retreating slightly as he refocused on the battlefield, the air thick with the metallic tang of fear and charged energy.

With the go-ahead, Aaron’s focus returned to the battle.

The soldiers had not stood idly while he conversed inwardly, they had been actively bombarding him with attacks of all manners to save their skin.

Blasts of plasma streaked through the void like vengeful comets, arcane projectiles humming with destructive intent, the platform vibrating under the onslaught.

Explosions bloomed in bursts of light and heat, the scent of ozone sharp and biting.

But thanks to Flameborn and his shadow abilities, Aaron had remained unscathed.

The dragon’s dark flames roared outward in protective arcs, devouring incoming assaults like a living void, while Aaron’s shadows twisted into barriers that absorbed and deflected, the void around him a fortress of night.

The attacks fizzled harmlessly, sparks dancing into nothingness, leaving scorch marks on the metal but never touching him.

"Time to return the favors, guys," Aaron informed the desperate soldiers, his voice calm but laced with cold promise.

Their faces twisted in panic, weapons trembling in grips slick with sweat, eyes wide with the dawning realization of their doom.

Controlling his shadows with a mere thought, he created several spikes, jagged lances of pure darkness that materialized from the void like thorns from a nightmare.

They hurled toward the soldiers with lethal precision, whistling through the airless expanse, edges rippling with destructive energy.

Several soldiers tried to dodge the attack, leaping aside with desperate agility, boots scraping against the platform in frantic scrambles.

Some attempted to block it, shields of mana flaring bright in futile defense.

The weak ones, though, were skewered by the assault from Aaron, the spikes puncturing their bodies with gruesome holes.

Blood sprayed in frozen arcs, glittering under the floodlights, bodies crumpling, flesh tearing, screams piercing the night as life ebbed away in pools of crimson.

After the soldiers were injured, Aaron discovered he could actually suck the emotion of fear from them without physical contact.

The realization hit him like a spark of insight amid the carnage, the fear radiating from their wounds, their pain, flowing toward him in invisible streams.

It eased the stress of having to touch people one by one, allowing him to draw from multiple sources at once, the rush multiplying into a symphony of euphoria.

Discovering that, he stopped at nothing.

After draining those soldiers completely, their souls dimming to husks, bodies slumping lifeless, he moved on to the next, appearing before them with Dragon Forge in hand.

The blade gleamed with destructive aura, shadows coiling along its edge like hungry flames.

He severed a soldier in a swift arc, the blade cutting clean through armor and flesh, and the fear from that soldier was reflexively sucked into him.

It surged like a wave, warm and invigorating, mending his soul further with each kill.

The void filled with cries, the base’s alarms blaring louder, red lights pulsing in frantic rhythm.

The more Aaron fought, the more he realized the ease at which he could devour fear.

It felt almost natural and easy, a seamless extension of his will, the shadows facilitating the pull like conduits.

He could easily devour their fears as long as it existed from his enemies and he had mortally wounded them, the injury acting as a gateway, the fear spilling forth like blood from a vein.

But Aaron also realized some peculiar things.

There were some soldiers whose fear he couldn’t devour, their auras resistant.

It puzzled him, questions bubbling up amid the slaughter, the metallic scent of blood thickening the air.

In due time, Aaron knew he was going to get his answers. For now, the hunt consumed him, shadows dancing in his wake.

Together with Flameborn, Aaron decimated the soldiers.

The dragon’s roars shook the platforms, dark flames sweeping in arcs that reduced groups to ash, their screams swallowed by the inferno.

Aaron moved like a specter, blade flashing, fear flowing into him in intoxicating rushes, his soul healing with each devoured essence.

But out of hunger for more fear, he didn’t stop there.

The base fell silent, bodies littering the platforms like discarded puppets, but the craving urged him onward.

He went for the natives of the cluster, civilians huddled in distant habitats, their fear spiking as alarms wailed across the stars.

He appeared amid their panic, shadows enveloping settlements, drawing forth the terror in waves that fed his growing power.

And after a while, he was able to devour every fear he could within the cluster, the collective dread a feast that left husks in its wake, souls drained to emptiness.

The void echoed with final whimpers, the stars seeming dimmer, as if mourning the loss.

Afterward, he devoured the cluster itself, shadows expanding in a tidal wave of oblivion.

Planets crumbled into dust, stars winked out like snuffed candles, the energy funneling into him and his sanctuary, a surge of strength that made his blood sing, his mystic eyes sharpening further.

The entire night, Aaron consumed five galactic clusters, each invasion a blur of shadow and flame, fear and fire.

He improved his skills even further, honing the balance of devouring without losing control, the rush of healing pushing his soul toward wholeness.

After a night of devour and growth, Aaron returned back to his room, slipping through shadows without arousing the suspicion of anyone.

The city of Aiz slumbered below, lights twinkling like oblivious stars, the faint hum of night patrols a distant lullaby.

He materialized in the dim confines of his quarters, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of battle, shadows retreating as he sank onto the edge of his bed.

"Alright. You have got a lot of explaining to give to me," Aaron informed the system after his eventful return.

His voice was low, laced with demand, the weight of the night’s revelations pressing on him like an unseen hand.