Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 459: SOVEREIGNS’ BATTLE IV

But Aaron could care less.

He had a day, a precious, fleeting twenty-four hours gifted by the Sovereign Halo, and he intended to wring every last drop of advantage from it before the clock ran out. Allies.

Power. Chaos.

Whatever he could claim in the time remaining, he would take without hesitation or remorse.

The Sovereigns’ confusion, their dawning fear, only fueled his calm, predatory focus.

Odin reacted first.

His single eye flared with a sudden, blinding burst of silver-white light, runes spiraling across the iris like living constellations.

The Allfather summoned the full might of his all-seeing vision, peering into the threads of fate and probability to predict Aaron’s next move.

Gungnir hummed in his grip, the spear already angled for a killing thrust, its tip glowing with the cold promise of inevitable death.

But in a direct clash of ocular supremacy, Odin lost.

Aaron’s mystic eyes gold-ringed universe that dissected reality itself, overmatched him effortlessly.

They peeled back the layers of Odin’s foresight like stripping flesh from bone.

Every predicted path, every feint the Allfather foresaw, Aaron saw first.

Worse: he understood the mechanics of Odin’s ability in an instant.

Reverse-engineering it mid-battle, Aaron turned the god’s greatest strength against him with cruel irony.

The prediction paths Odin relied on were flipped, inverted, weaponized. What the Allfather saw as Aaron’s inevitable lunge became Aaron’s perfect opening.

The mystic eyes fed him Odin’s own foresight, every twitch of muscle, every shift of weight, every micro-decision, laid bare.

Aaron combined space and shadow in a seamless fusion.

Darkness coiled around him like smoke given will, then space folded.

He vanished from his position and reappeared directly in front of Odin, close enough that the Allfather could feel the cold breath of the void on his face.

Their eyes locked: one burning silver, the other molten gold.

Odin reacted on pure reflex, Gungnir stabbing forward in a blur of divine speed meant to impale Aaron through the heart.

Aaron had banked on exactly that.

He knew subduing Odin the same way he had Ares and Athena would be impossible.

The Allfather’s will was too ancient, too unbreakable.

So instead, Aaron manipulated space with surgical precision.

A rift tore open behind Odin, a perfect, hungry maw leading straight to the sanctuary.

The pull was instantaneous.

Odin’s massive frame lurched forward against his will, boots scraping uselessly against the ground before he was yanked through the portal.

Aaron followed a heartbeat later, stepping through with calm confidence. The rift snapped shut behind them, leaving only a faint ripple in the air.

"Where did they go?" the Primordial Dragon asked, deep voice rumbling with confusion and a growing thread of unease.

A frown carved itself across his scaled brow.

Resonating with the universe’s will itself, he extended his senses outward, searching every corner of reality, every plane, every hidden fold.

Normally, no being could hide from him; he could pinpoint Odin from across galaxies with trivial ease.

But absurdly, he failed.

Nothing. No trace. No echo.

It felt almost as if Odin had been erased from existence entirely, as if the Allfather no longer belonged to this universe at all.

Which, of course, was true. But the Primordial Dragon had no way of knowing that yet.

Dracula refrained from answering. Instead, he simply raised one pale hand.

Crimson essence began to well from his palm, thick, living blood that pulsed with ancient power, coiling into delicate threads that shimmered in the fractured light.

Baal’s eyes narrowed instantly.

He recognized the technique.

No one understood Dracula’s abilities better than the demon that had plotted Dracula’s downfall once.

"He’s trying to make use of blood essence!" Baal yelled, voice cutting through the stunned silence. "We have to stop him or we might as well be done for!"

"Vorth! Make use of the contingency plan!!" he shouted again, desperation creeping into his usually composed tone.

"Are you sure?" Vorth the Primordial Dragon asked, frowning deeper. "The risks attached to it are not to be taken lightly."

"If we don’t do anything we will be dead either way," Baal snapped, anger twisting his features into something feral. "It’s a small price to pay!"

He hated admitting it, hated the words tasting like ash in his mouth, but they were at a severe disadvantage.

Despite their overwhelming numbers, despite the combined might of every Sovereign and ancient power in existence, they still couldn’t put Dracula in check.

Worse: the greatest threat on the field was no longer the vampire lord himself.

It was his aide, the human with the infuriating space abilities who had just casually removed Odin from the board.

Vorth stared at Baal for a long moment, indecisive.

The contingency plan had been Baal’s brainchild, formulated in secret with the mechanical race, cold, precise, utterly ruthless.

Every Sovereign had vehemently rejected its use when it was first proposed.

The risks were catastrophic: irreversible damage to the fabric of the universe, potential unraveling of natural laws, collateral devastation on a multiversal scale.

"We won’t be using it," Vorth finally declared, voice heavy with finality. "We will have to take our stance without it."

"God damnit," Baal snarled, face contorted with rage. "I was right to never trust a slave to the universe’s will!!"

The elf queen, long silent, watching the bickering with growing disgust, had finally had enough.

Tired of words that solved nothing, she took command of the battlefield’s resumption.

She drew her divine bow with fluid grace, string humming under the tension of her pull.

A single arrow, forged from starlight and bound with ancient elven magic, materialized nocked and ready.

The weapon thrummed with lethal intent, aimed straight at Dracula’s heart.

She released.

Or tried to.

Her fingers froze mid-release. Her arm locked.

Her entire body refused to obey. Muscles that had obeyed her for millennia now sat inert, unresponsive.

Panic flickered in her emerald eyes as she realized she could no longer move, not a finger, not a breath, not even her gaze.

The arrow remained nocked, quivering slightly in the sudden stillness of her grip.

Something, someone, had seized control of her body without warning, without sound, without mercy.

And the battlefield, for one frozen heartbeat, held its breath.