Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 467: SOVEREIGNS’ BATTLE XII

Dracula easily dodged the bident, body twisting with liquid grace, before going for a stab with his rapier.

The blade flashed forward, aimed straight for Hades’s throat.

He stabbed the abdomen of Hades, puncturing it through with his rapier.

The blade sank deep in a single, fluid motion, crimson essence flaring along the edge as it tore through divine flesh.

Hades groaned with pain, a low, guttural sound that rumbled from his chest like distant thunder in the underworld.

His pitch-dark eyes widened for a fraction of a second, body jerking from the impact.

Blood, thick, black, and cold as grave soil, spilled from the wound in a slow, viscous stream.

But his sacrifice bought Poseidon enough time to recover himself and retreat.

The sea god staggered backward, trident clutched tightly, salt-scented mist coiling around him as he put distance between himself and Dracula.

Necros, the Sovereign of the undead, raised both hands.

From the cracked earth rose a barrage of bony spears, jagged, ivory-white lances that gleamed with necrotic energy.

They launched toward Dracula in a storm of death, whistling through the air with the dry rattle of bones.

With his rapier, Dracula destroyed the bony spears.

Each strike was precise, almost casual, blade flashing in crimson arcs that shattered bone into fine powder.

Fragments rained down like brittle snow, dissolving into black smoke before they hit the ground.

"How boring," Dracula mocked the group, voice calm and resonant.

"Even with so many numbers, you all fear for your life."

Zeus was the first to react, baited by Dracula’s provocation.

Lightning flared brighter around him, muscles tensing as rage surged through his veins.

But that didn’t mean he attacked recklessly.

He remained still, smart enough not to engage purely out of anger.

His fists clenched, sparks dancing between his knuckles as he forced himself to breathe, to think.

"Well, you can’t blame us," Baal replied smoothly.

"We all knew it wouldn’t be easy to defeat the lord of the eternal night."

Baal had been among the few who had not engaged Dracula from beginning to end.

He stayed back, observing, calculating, third eye glowing faintly as he weighed every move, every shift in power.

His regenerated hand flexed once, Flesh Eater humming in his grip.

"I see," Dracula said.

"If you all won’t take the risk, I might as well take it for you all."

He opened the rift to the sanctuary.

The portal tore open with a low, wet sound, like flesh parting, edges flickering with crimson light.

From it, he summoned the infinite blood pool.

Not all of it, just a chalice of it.

The vessel materialized in his free hand, simple and elegant, carved from translucent obsidian.

Inside, the blood swirled slowly, alive, glowing faintly with an inner light that pulsed like a heartbeat.

The air around the chalice thickened, carrying the heavy, coppery scent of ancient power.

Just like the old times, when the infinite blood pool was first created.

Baal stared at the chalice, a frown creasing his face.

His third eye narrowed, sensing the raw, primordial energy contained within.

"And what’s that for?" Baal couldn’t help but ask.

"Let’s just say the greatest support I need to even the playing field completely," Dracula replied.

He drank from the chalice.

The blood flowed down his throat in a slow, deliberate stream.

The moment it touched his tongue, his aura shifted, deepening, darkening, expanding outward in a wave of pressure that made the fractured sky tremble.

His maroon suit pulsed once, threads tightening, edges hardening further. Crimson light flared in his eyes, bright and unyielding.

----

While Dracula was busy dealing with the Sovereigns, Alice and her entourage had to deal with other adversaries.

"You all must be in league with the enemy," Jeremy muttered, walking forward confidently toward Alice.

His steps were measured, heavy with intent, the air around him shimmering faintly with restrained power.

Alice simply observed Jeremy, her face neutral, eyes calm, posture relaxed, but every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.

"Enough of the small talk," Hermes informed, eager for a fight.

His wings twitched, body already blurring at the edges with speed.

"Let’s just get on with it."

Apollo was the first to begin the battle.

Stretching his bow, he fired dozens of golden arrows toward the group.

The projectiles streaked through the air like miniature suns, trailing blazing light that scorched the ground in their wake.

"I will deal with this one!" Leo informed, stepping forward to stand before Alice.

Making use of his control of wind, he produced a strong wind current, gusts roaring upward in a spiraling vortex.

The arrows were knocked off their path, spinning wildly before burying themselves harmlessly in the cracked earth.

Hermes, providing support for Apollo, sped off.

He arrived before Leo in an instant, dagger flashing in his hand as he went for a stab.

"Ugh," Hermes groaned, moving backward quickly.

His wrist was cut as he narrowly escaped having it severed.

Blood welled from the shallow wound, dripping in bright red drops that hissed on the ground.

Appearing beside Leo was Blade.

He had remained hidden in the shadow realm until an opportunity arose, emerging silently, sword already in motion.

"Tch. Boring!" Dionysus mocked Hermes, creating vines.

He commanded the vines, sending them toward Blade.

The tendrils moved quickly, thorns sharp enough to puncture holes through steel.

Bzzzttt.

Michael appeared in front of Blade, severing the vine in an instant.

Lightning danced off him in brilliant arcs, crackling with raw power as he cut through the plant matter like butter.

"Sister? Any—"

Apollo didn’t need to say more.

His twin sister, Artemis, released an arrow of her own toward Michael.

Michael simply stared at the arrow, a grin on his face, wide, confident, almost feral.

A wall of blood appeared in front of Michael, blocking the attack from Artemis.

The crimson barrier rose like a living tide, absorbing the golden projectile with a wet hiss.

The arrow vanished into the blood, swallowed completely.