Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 496: DOMINION OF PROXIMITY

"I admit, lesser, you’ve surprised me," the leader muttered.

His voice carried a low, venomous edge as he fixed Chen Mo with a stare cold enough to freeze blood.

"I wasn’t expecting you to hold your own so well against me."

He paused, letting the words hang in the thin mountain air.

"But you will regret making an enemy of the Transcendents."

With deliberate slowness, he drew his sword.

He descended the rocky slope with measured confidence, stopping just outside Chen Mo’s reach, close enough to taunt, far enough to feel safe.

A thin, predatory smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The blade in his hand suddenly erupted.

Unlike the wild, chaotic Primordial flames that had burst from his subordinates in every direction, his burned with terrifying control.

A razor-thin layer, no more than a centimeter, clung to the steel like molten moonlight.

The fire did not roar; it hissed, disciplined and hungry.

Then came the Primordial light.

Pure, blinding radiance bled into the flames, weaving through them until the entire sword glowed with blinding white-gold intensity.

The light pulsed in time with his heartbeat, making the surrounding air shimmer and distort as though reality itself was bending around the weapon.

"Any last words before you die?" he asked, voice calm, almost polite.

Chen Mo didn’t answer.

He simply stood there, sword still sheathed at his side, dark eyes watching the man with the same detached calm one might give a passing cloud. No fear. No anger. Just quiet, unreadable patience.

The leader’s smile twisted into a snarl.

"I hope your arrogance lasts until the very end!"

He roared, raising the glowing blade high overhead. Muscles tensed beneath his robes. Then, with explosive force, he brought the sword crashing downward.

A crescent of intertwined Primordial light and flame tore through the air toward Chen Mo.

The strike was so dense, so concentrated, that the transcendent realm itself seemed to hum in response, vibrating with raw, ecstatic power. The wind screamed. Loose pebbles on the ridge jumped and rattled.

Chen Mo moved.

A single, fluid sidestep carried him clear of the devastating arc.

Dust exploded where the attack struck the ground behind him, carving a molten scar into the stone.

In the same breath, his hand flashed to his hilt.

The sword left its sheath with a clean, ringing note. Almost lazily, he flicked his wrist.

A beam of pure, unadulterated ki lanced forward, sharp, invisible until it struck.

The attack leader twisted violently to the right, trying to evade.

Too late.

"Urgh!"

He dropped to one knee with a choked grunt, sword planted into the earth to keep himself upright.

Blood welled through a long, narrow tear across his chest.

The cut was clean, precise, impossibly accurate despite the speed of his dodge.

"You really know how to piss people off!" he roared, spittle flying from his lips.

The nonchalant tilt of Chen Mo’s head, the faint boredom in those dark eyes, it grated on him worse than any wound.

"Light Boost," he hissed through clenched teeth.

The soles of his boots flared with sudden, searing white radiance.

Power surged through his legs.

He launched himself forward.

Seven times the speed of light.

The world blurred. Mountains, sky, and ridges smeared into streaks of color.

One heartbeat he was kneeling; the next he stood directly behind Chen Mo, sword already descending in a vicious diagonal cut.

Steel met flesh.

A clean line opened across Chen Mo’s back.

Blood sprayed in a thin arc. Pain flared hot and bright.

For the first time, a small frown creased Chen Mo’s brow.

He pushed forward instinctively, putting distance between them, hand pressing briefly to the wound as warm blood soaked through his robes.

The leader didn’t hesitate.

He flickered again, reappearing in front of Chen Mo in an instant, sword whipping toward his throat.

But Chen Mo had already read the pattern.

His own blade moved in a smooth, horizontal arc, curved like a drawn bowstring.

The swing carried deceptive slowness at first, then snapped with brutal force.

The impact rang like a gong.

The attack leader was hurled backward, body tumbling through the air.

He crashed hard into the face of a distant mountain.

Rock shattered on impact.

Dust billowed outward in a gray cloud as fresh blood trickled from new cuts along his arms and ribs.

"You really know how to tick me off," he growled, dragging himself upright.

His voice trembled with fury and something dangerously close to fear.

He charged again.

This time, when he closed to within a single meter of Chen Mo, he did something unexpected.

Instead of striking, he dropped.

His body phased downward, sinking straight into the stone as though the mountain were water.

The ground rippled briefly where he vanished.

A heartbeat later, the earth beneath Chen Mo’s feet cracked open.

The leader erupted upward from directly below, sword thrust straight toward Chen Mo’s heart in a lethal upward stab.

Light and flame spiraled along the blade, hungry for the kill.

Chen Mo tilted his head at the last possible instant.

The tip grazed past his cheek, drawing a thin line of red.

Before the leader could recover, Chen Mo’s left arm, the mystic arm, glowed with a deep, ominous aura.

"Dominion of Proximity."

The words were quiet, almost casual.

But the moment they left his lips, an invisible sphere snapped into existence around them both.

Space itself seemed to thicken, grow heavy, cling.

The attack leader’s eyes widened in sudden alarm.

He was caught.

Off guard.

Trapped inside Chen Mo’s domain.

[Dominion of Proximity]

Within arm’s reach, Your authority becomes absolute, a sphere of influence that warps the very fabric of interaction around you.

Attacks lose precision, movements falter, and opposing forces find their effectiveness subtly diminished, not by suppression, but by forced compliance with his presence, bending to your unspoken will.

The space around your arms behaves as though it belongs to him, aligning itself to favor his intent, turning the immediate vicinity into an extension of his dominion.

Nothing near your hands can act freely without first being acknowledged by them, trapped in a web of enforced obedience.