Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 601 601: FINAL STANDOFF II

Slowly, Aaron's body began to undergo a terrifying metamorphosis.

His bones crunched and shifted, becoming denser and more durable.

His muscles coiled with the flexible, explosive strength of his strongest werewolf bloodline.

The soles of his feet turned a deep, abyssal black—the signature mark of his most potent shadow variant.

From his shoulder blades, two massive wings erupted, tearing through the air.

They were a majestic, terrifying combination of his entire avian lineage, with the Galefather bloodline providing a dominant, aerodynamic grace.

Shimmering scales, culled from the finest of his dragon blood, began to knit across his skin, creating a double-layered defense.

To kill him now, one would first have to shatter the draconic armor before even contending with the regenerative Chaos Physique beneath.

His demonic and devil bloodlines flared to life, surging through his veins and exponentially increasing his affinity for the elements.

Above his head, a macabre crown fashioned from bleached bone and flickering souls materialized, floating with a ghostly light.

When he opened his eyes, they had turned a piercing gold, featuring the sharp, vertical slits of a high-tier serpent.

Every vessel in Aaron's body throbbed with improved efficiency.

His overall strength skyrocketed to heights that dwarfed his previous form.

"Now. Let's begin round two," Aaron muttered, his voice echoing with a multi-layered resonance.

Chen Mo said nothing.

He simply adjusted his stance, holding his sword with a death grip, ready for the onslaught.

Aaron took his first step.

The ground beneath him groaned under the weight of his new power.

Aaron moved with a speed that defied the laws of physics, vanishing from his position and reappearing directly behind Chen Mo.

It was a movement so instantaneous that Chen Mo's senses, honed by a thousand battles, couldn't even register a ripple in the air.

Before Chen Mo could process the shift, Aaron's hand had already clamped around his throat.

Aaron didn't just ignore Chen Mo's protective domain.

He treated it as if it were non-existent, his grip tightening with a total disregard for the spatial barriers.

With a casual, brutal flick of his wrist, Aaron hurled Chen Mo away.

The sheer velocity of the throw was so immense that it stripped Chen Mo of his equilibrium.

He became a blurred projectile, unable to right himself as the wind shrieked past him.

Aaron did not wait.

He took flight, moving even faster than the man he had just thrown, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

He drew his fist back, his knuckles white with tension.

Chen Mo, struggling to recover, white-knuckled his sword hilt and prepared a desperate counter-strike.

"You—!"

The word had barely left his lips before Aaron's fist buried itself in his midsection.

The punch was like a collapsing star, the force of it catapulting Chen Mo backward with even greater violence.

As he flew, jagged spikes of solidified bone and concentrated shadow erupted from the void, impaling his body in mid-air.

"Urgh!" Chen Mo's groan was wet and choked with blood.

He hung suspended for a moment, blood seeping from a dozen puncture wounds, his limbs trembling in agony.

Despite the white-hot pain, his fingers remained fused to his blade.

With a weak, defiant snarl, he swung the sword, the edge glowing as it severed the spikes and freed his mangled form.

"You should suffer more," a cold, silk-thin whisper hissed directly into his ear.

Before Chen Mo could turn, chains forged from abyssal shadows wrapped around his limbs like starving pythons.

With a violent, singular pull, Aaron hurled him upward toward the atmosphere of the expanse before slamming him back down into the hard, unforgiving ground.

The impact cratered the floor, but Aaron was already descending.

He landed with a heavy stomp directly on Chen Mo's chest, the force causing a fountain of blood to erupt from Chen Mo's mouth.

Still unsatisfied, Aaron drove the grey blade through Chen Mo's shoulder, pinning him to the earth like a specimen.

Using his free hand, he hoisted the wounded man up by the collar only to blast him back into the crater with a surge of raw energy.

Aaron leapt back into the air, hovering with a predatory grace.

He clutched his hands together, and in response, Grey shifted and expanded, the metal groaning as it morphed from a crucifix sword into a gargantuan, jagged war-hammer.

Aaron brought the hammer down with the weight of a mountain, the impact shaking the very foundations of the Origin Expanse as it crushed Chen Mo further into the dirt.

Not giving his opponent a second to breathe, he leapt up and smashed him again.

Then a third time, the repetitive rhythm of the hammer strikes sounding like the tolling of a funeral bell.

But on the fourth descent, the crushing weight met something immovable.

Clang!

The hammer stopped dead in its tracks.

Aaron gritted his teeth, pouring more strength into his deltoids and triceps, but the weapon refused to budge or descend an inch further.

Supporting the massive head of the hammer were thousands of needle-thin, razor-sharp Sword Qis, vibrating with such intensity they created a shimmering shield of force.

Chen Mo, finally finding a momentary reprieve, pushed himself up from the debris.

As he stood, the gruesome damage he had sustained, the impalements, the crushed ribs, the shattered shoulder, simply vanished.

It was as if time had been reversed on his physical form, leaving him pristine and battle-ready once more.

Seeing the shift, Aaron retracted the hammer, allowing it to shrink back into its sleek, bladed form.

He moved to re-engage, but a sudden, invisible force caught him off guard.

A burst of transcendent Sword Qi struck him square in the shoulder, the unseen edge biting deep and sending him tumbling back through the air.

At a calculated distance, Chen Mo stabilized his stance and gripped his sword with both hands, his aura turning cold and absolute.

"Heavenly Demonic Technique: Ultimate Form 1. Oblivion," he muttered, his voice eerily calm.

The moment the technique was released, the world seemed to scream.

A wave of pure erasure surged forward, causing the very air and light in its path to cease existing.

It was a tide of nothingness, devouring reality as it raced toward Aaron.

Aaron watched the approaching annihilation, his expression devoid of fear.

In fact, he looked intrigued.

He stretched his arms forward.

Then, with a grotesque, wet sound, multiple new limbs sprouted from his torso, stretching out to join the others.

He moved them in a synchronized pattern.

The palms of those many hands began to tear open, transforming into rows of gnashing, fanged maws.

The mouths merged and expanded, weaving together until a singular, colossal maw floated in front of him, its throat a gateway to a dark abyss.

"Let's see what your technique is made of," Aaron said, a dark smile playing on his lips as he prepared to swallow the attack whole.