Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 531: SHEN LINGXUE

Shadow remained perfectly calm, even as every instinct screamed at him to run.

He weighed his options in the space of a single heartbeat, fight, flee, or stall.

None felt promising against this monster.

"Won’t you provide me with an answer, clone?" Chen Mo asked, his indifferent gaze never wavering.

"Sorry," Shadow replied flatly.

"But I’m not in the mood to talk to you."

Without another word, he dove straight into the nearest shadow, intending to melt away into the endless dark and escape.

Wrong move.

"Wrong answer," Chen Mo said, voice still calm.

He swung his arm in a casual arc, as though drawing a blade through empty air.

Bang!

Shadow slammed backward with bone-jarring force.

The shadow he had tried to enter rejected him violently, like diving headfirst into solid stone.

He hit the ground hard, rolling once before catching himself on one knee.

"I simply severed your relationship with shadows and darkness," Chen Mo explained, almost politely.

"Now the very element you command will feel like an unbreakable wall to you."

Shadow pushed to his feet, brushing off invisible dust.

"You’re really not making this any easier for me," he muttered under his breath.

With no path left to flee, he chose violence instead.

He exploded forward in a blur, catching everyone, Baal, the young cultivator, even himself, off guard.

In an instant he closed the distance to Chen Mo.

Black flames roared to life around his clenched fist, Nightflame essence twisting into something vicious and hungry.

With absolute determination, he drove that burning hand straight toward Chen Mo’s heart.

"Bold," Chen Mo murmured, arrogance curling his lips as he met Shadow’s eyes without blinking.

"Urgh—"

Shadow’s right arm vanished in a clean, bloodless cut.

The limb simply ceased to exist from elbow to fingertips.

He staggered back a step, pain exploding through his nerves, but Chen Mo hadn’t even lifted a finger.

"Now," Chen Mo said, voice dropping to cold steel.

"Tell me what I want to know, or suffer a destruction you can never return from."

This time he reached slowly toward the hilt of a sword at his side.

The threat felt very, very real.

"Destruction he can never return from?" an arrogant yet eerily calm voice cut through the tension.

"Don’t be so full of yourself, you bastard."

Chen Mo turned, genuine intrigue flickering across his otherwise impassive features.

Someone daring to speak to him like that was... novel.

A young man stepped through a still-open rift behind him.

White hair flowed like liquid moonlight.

Eyes deep and vast, containing entire universes in their depths.

His clothes fit perfectly, simple yet regal, and an unshakable confidence radiated from him like heat from a forge.

Behind him the rift shimmered with intertwined black fire and cool shadow.

"You must be the owner of the clones," Chen Mo said.

"Indeed I am," Aaron replied evenly.

"So while I’m still being nice... let him go."

He was no one else but Aaron Highborn.

While training in the sanctuary, he had felt the sudden, brutal destruction of Ego through their unbreakable link.

Curiosity, and a spark of protective fury, had forced him to appear.

"Or what?" Chen Mo asked.

For the first time, a faint trace of entertainment warmed his naturally cold expression.

"Instead of waiting a bit before I deal with you," Aaron said without flinching, "I might as well finish it right now and kill you where you stand."

Chen Mo studied him for a long moment.

"Hmm."

He gave a small, almost amused exhale.

"Take your little toy, then."

With a casual push, he sent Shadow stumbling forward toward Aaron.

"Wise choice," Aaron said with a single nod.

He caught Shadow by the shoulder, steadying him without a word.

No need to linger.

He turned and stepped back through the rift, Shadow at his side.

"When the time comes to fight me," Chen Mo called after them, a genuine smile touching his lips, "make sure you create quite the noise. I want to feel your arrival."

"I will," Aaron shot back over his shoulder.

"And make sure you’re in peak condition, clone."

The rift snapped shut behind them, sealing away the two Nightflame extensions in perfect silence.

Baal and the young cultivator stood frozen, stunned into wordlessness.

"Forgive my impertinence, Father," the young cultivator finally ventured, voice hesitant, "but... why let them leave?"

Chen Mo’s gaze lingered on the spot where the rift had been.

"I wasn’t prepared to face him," he answered simply.

The young cultivator blinked.

"But that has never stopped you before. You’ve crushed anyone who stood in your path, prepared or not."

Chen Mo offered no reply.

Instead, he rose smoothly from his throne.

"I will enter a closed cultivation session," he announced.

"You are only to disturb me when he shows himself again."

With that, he turned and walked away, robe trailing like liquid night behind him.

The hall fell silent once more, save for the faint, lingering crackle of unseen flames and the heavy breathing of a demon lord who had just witnessed something far beyond his comprehension.

"How satisfying," Aaron breathed, unable to hide the sharp, electric thrill racing through him the moment he stepped fully into the sanctuary.

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face, eyes gleaming with pure anticipation.

He had expected to wait far longer for this moment.

Instead, revenge against Chen Mo had landed right in his lap, quicker, sweeter, and far more personal than he could have hoped.

"I’ll treat this as interest," he murmured, voice low and dangerous.

"Payment in full comes when I finally meet the real one."

"That Chen Mo... he is dangerous," Shadow commented quietly beside him, still shaken from the encounter.

His tone carried a rare note of genuine caution.

Aaron’s grin only widened, sharp and unyielding.

"The stronger he is, the better for me," he replied, rolling his shoulders with restless energy.

"It’ll make crushing him that much more fun."

With nothing more than a single focused thought, Aaron recreated Ego from pure Nightflame essence.

The clone reformed instantly, whole, unharmed, and radiating the upgraded power of living flame and shadow.

"You two can’t act however you like," Aaron told them both, voice firm but casual.

"I have no tasks for you right now."

He gave them a few more precise instructions, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Then, without another glance, Aaron turned and left the sanctuary, stepping through a fresh rift that carried him straight back to the Splitting Heaven Sect.

It was finally time to uncover exactly what made the young girl he had saved so special.

The moment he returned, the sight that greeted him filled him with quiet pride.

Disciples filled every training ground and cultivation chamber, bodies glistening with sweat as they pushed themselves with fierce, unrelenting fervor.

Seeing their intensity, Aaron felt a surge of confidence.

With this kind of fire burning inside them, the sect would dominate the upcoming tournament, no doubt about it.

"Shen Lingxue," he called out clearly.

"Come with me."

The young girl looked up immediately, drenched in sweat from her rigorous training session.

Her breathing was still heavy, strands of hair clinging to her flushed cheeks, but she nodded without hesitation.

Wiping her face with the back of her sleeve, she fell into step behind him.

With a casual snap of his fingers, a wave of cool Nightflame energy washed over her.

In an instant, every trace of sweat, dirt, and fatigue vanished.

Her skin felt refreshed, her clothes crisp and clean, as though she had just stepped out of a luxurious bath.

Neither of them spoke as they walked.

The silence between them was comfortable, almost expectant, broken only by the distant sounds of training and the soft rustle of robes.

They continued through the winding paths of the sect until they reached Aaron’s private training hall, a vast, secluded space reserved for his most important matters.

The heavy doors opened at his approach, revealing the grand chamber beyond.