Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 468: SOVEREIGNS’ BATTLE XIII

Derith, a demon prodigy of the Pride Clan, seized the chaotic tension like a predator spotting weakness.

He used Hermes’s frame as a clever cover, materializing suddenly before Alice.

His clawed hand stretched out with lethal intent, aiming straight for her vulnerable neck.

Sharp talons gleamed under the dim, flickering lights of the battlefield, the air humming with his suppressed demonic energy.

Alice didn’t react as she usually might.

No dodge, no counterstrike, just a calm, almost resigned stillness.

She simply nodded her head, as if granting silent permission to proceed.

Derith couldn’t comprehend the strange gesture.

Confusion flickered briefly in his crimson eyes, but he pressed on regardless, refusing to let the oddity derail his assault.

His claws slashed forward with brutal speed.

"Huh?" Derith muttered in bewilderment, his voice laced with sudden disorientation.

He realized with a jolt that his view had flipped upside down, the world inverting in a dizzying twist.

The rest of the confusion crashed over him like a wave when he spotted his own body, headless, blood spurting from the severed neck in dark arcs.

"Is that...? Am I dead?" Derith thought, the horrifying realization striking him like a thunderbolt.

His vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in as his eyes slowly closed and his consciousness slipped away into oblivion.

Beside Alice stood General Maxwell, his sword drawn and held steady.

Fresh demon blood clung to the blade, dripping slowly in thick droplets that pattered against the ground.

The metallic tang of it filled the air around them.

"Mother. What is going on?" Nick asked his mother, his voice tense as he watched the unfolding chaos from a safe distance afar.

The sounds of clashing weapons and screams echoed faintly toward him.

"I will explain later," Lilith informed Nick firmly. "Just do as I say and leave. I will get your brother to do the same."

Her tone brooked no argument, sharp and commanding like a whip crack.

"What the hell are you doing here acting like a coward?" Nick was suddenly condemned by the one person he despised most.

The words cut deep, laced with scorn.

Jeremy, Nick’s brother, asked coldly, staring at him with open disappointment etched across his features.

Jeremy, leveraging his cloning abilities, had sent a perfect duplicate to confront Nick while his main body remained locked in the thick of the battlefield, fighting relentlessly.

"Jeremy," Nick uttered his brother’s name through gritted teeth, his hands clutching into tight fists as anger surged through him.

"Do not mention my name so casually, low blood," Jeremy snapped arrogantly. "Add some respect to it. And that wasn’t the answer to my question."

Nick opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out, his fury choking him silent.

"Jeremy," Lilith interjected sternly. "I instructed your brother to not partake in this battle. You too should refrain from partaking in this battle."

Jeremy, hearing Lilith’s words, turned his gaze back to Nick. Disappointment deepened on his face, twisting into something almost pitying.

"Just when I was subtly beginning to find you a tad impressive," Jeremy said plainly.

"You just had to show me how disappointing you are, staying under mother’s wings. I was expecting more from you. But I guess that was stretching it too far."

With those cutting words, the clone dissolved back into the fray of battle, vanishing in a shimmer of energy.

Nick clamped his hands together even tighter, raw anger blazing in his eyes from being mocked so thoroughly by his brother. His knuckles whitened under the strain.

"Do not listen to your brother’s taunt," Lilith tried to console Nick, her voice softening slightly.

"He is like this because he knows so little."

"As do I," Nick replied bitterly. "I also know little, but here I am listening to you."

"That’s not what I..." Lilith began, trailing off as frustration flickered in her eyes.

"Lilith, the hell are you still doing here?" Uriel appeared suddenly before her, her presence urgent and demanding. "We need more help."

"Help for ?" Lilith asked, glancing toward the chaos.

"Have you gone blind?" Uriel shot back impatiently. "Dracula. We need more help to deal with him."

She zoomed off toward Dracula without waiting, cutting through the air like a blade.

"Son," Lilith turned back to Nick. "I hope you pay attention and do as I say. For my sake, please."

With that final plea, Lilith followed behind Uriel, her form blurring as she sped into the fight.

Nick watched his mother leave, Jeremy’s mocking words still echoing relentlessly in his head like a persistent drumbeat.

In a surge of determination to prove his brother wrong, he decided to join the fray and dive into the exciting battle.

---

The entire void hung at a standstill, thick with unspoken tension.

Everyone sized up the others, eyes darting, muscles coiled, breaths held in anticipation.

It was the eerie calm before the storm, the air heavy and electric.

Jeremy broke the ice.

He was the next to make a move after Derith’s gruesome death, shattering the fragile silence.

He lunged toward Alice, lightning crackling and dancing around his body in wild arcs.

He moved like a fired projectile, streaking through the void with blinding speed and raw power.

The others followed in his footsteps without hesitation, launching their assaults on the Anthanys as well.

The standstill erupted into motion, shouts and energy blasts filling the space.

Artemis drew back her bowstring taut, firing an arrow straight at Isobel this time.

The projectile glowed with a soft, ethereal moonlight sheen, slicing through the air silently.

The arrow reached Isobel in an instant, its path unerring and swift.

Isobel reacted fluidly, summoning a sword forged from her own corrosive blood.

The blade shimmered with a sickly red hue as she cut down the attack in one decisive slash.

Artemis, anticipating the block, had already loosed another arrow toward Isobel.

She moved closer step by step, closing the distance with graceful precision.

Isobel clicked her tongue in irritation, dodging the second attack with a quick sidestep.

The arrow whistled past, embedding into the ground with a faint glow.

And then, controlling her corrosive blood with focused intent, she willed it forward in a surging wave toward Artemis.

The liquid hissed and bubbled menacingly.