Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 602 602: FINAL STANDOFF III

Boom!

The collision between the erasure of Oblivion and Aaron's monstrous maws triggered a cataclysmic eruption.

The shockwave was so violent it didn't just shake the surroundings; it tore the fabric of reality into jagged shards.

The space encircling Aaron shattered like fragile glass under the pressure of the localized apocalypse.

Amidst the swirling chaos, Aaron stood unyielding, his hand-turned-mouths distending to swallow the remaining energy, gorging on the very essence of the attack.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Aaron reversed the flow, redirecting the hijacked power back toward its creator.

Chen Mo, unlike his opponent, chose not to meet the force head-on; he twisted through the air, narrowly avoiding the lethal rebound.

Sensing a shift in the tempo, Aaron seized control of the timeline.

He gestured broadly, releasing a shimmering ripple of perpetual time-loop energy designed to ensnare Chen Mo in an infinite, agonizing cycle.

But Chen Mo was prepared.

With a singular, definitive stroke of his blade, he performed a feat of conceptual surgery: he severed the very ideas of time and space.

The effect was instantaneous and absolute.

Aaron's temporal trap didn't just fail; it ceased to have a medium through which to travel.

The Origin Realm, already strained to its breaking point, completely disintegrated under Chen Mo's reality-altering strike.

The walls of existence crumbled, leaving behind nothing but a vast, blinding white expanse, a primordial void stripped of all dimensions.

In this new "Null-Space," the laws of the universe were dead.

The concept of "near" or "far" was no more; the concept of "when" no longer had meaning.

Without direction, an attack could not be dodged, for there was no "away" to move toward.

Without time, an attack could not be predicted, for there was no "before" to signal the strike.

Chen Mo had forcibly simplified the transcendental conflict into its crudest, most primal form: a raw brawl where only the most tenacious spirit could endure.

"You've shot yourself in the leg," Aaron muttered, his serpentine eyes darting across the white void in subtle confusion.

"By destroying the world, you've eliminated the versatility of your mystic arts.

You've trapped yourself."

"I haven't trapped myself," Chen Mo replied, his voice echoing in a place where sound shouldn't exist.

"I've merely provided the ultimate stage to use my strength to its greatest potential."

He lashed out with his sword.

Instinctively, Aaron tried to pivot away, but the movement was meaningless in a void without coordinates.

The blade found its mark instantly, carving a deep, jagged canyon across Aaron's chest.

Gritting his teeth against the white-hot sting, Aaron roared and swung Grey in a brutal arc to return the favor.

But the moment his blade neared Chen Mo, the momentum died.

The strike was snuffed out as if it had never been swung.

In this space-nullified expanse, Aaron realized with a jolt of cold dread that he was perpetually trapped within Chen Mo's domain.

Because distance was gone, everything was within Chen Mo's arm's reach.

Here, Chen Mo's authority was absolute.

He swung his sword again and again, each stroke adding a new crimson line to Aaron's body.

Worse still, the wounds refused to close; Chen Mo's proximity ensured his authority suppressed Aaron's ability to regenerate.

The tide of the battle didn't just turn—it crested and crashed over Aaron.

He was helpless, a titan bound by the lack of the very space he used to command.

"This is the end!" Chen Mo roared, his voice vibrating with the weight of a final judgment.

He raised his sword toward the empty zenith of the void.

Behind him, a colossal blade manifested, forged entirely from concentrated, shimmering Sword Qi.

It towered over the white expanse, a mountain of lethal intent aimed directly at Aaron's heart.

Aaron stared up at the impending execution.

He felt the cold touch of mortality; he understood that if he remained reckless, this single strike would be his last.

He watched the light of the Qi blade brighten as Chen Mo prepared to release the killing blow, find himself momentarily out of usable options in a world without a floor or a ceiling.

"Tsk.

I didn't want to use this," Aaron muttered, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth with a dark, twisted satisfaction.

He didn't flinch as the mountain of Sword Qi descended.

Instead, he reached upward, his bare palm meeting the edge of the gargantuan blade.

The moment his skin made contact, the colossal construct didn't just shatter; it was utterly erased, dissolving into nothingness as if it had never existed.

Chen Mo froze, his eyes widening in genuine shock.

"You... What did you do?" he stammered, his voice trembling for the first time.

He stared at Aaron's hands, noticing a strange, unfamiliar essence coating them like a layer of liquid shadow.

The aura was alien, pulsing with a frequency that felt fundamentally wrong—an ominous, predatory energy that made the very air of the white void recoil.

Aaron offered no explanation.

He simply leveled his gaze at Chen Mo and fired a concentrated burst of antimatter.

Panic flared in Chen Mo's eyes as he swung his sword to intercept the beam, but the collision brought no sound.

His Sword Qi, usually capable of severing concepts, was swallowed whole by the antimatter.

The attack couldn't be nullified; it was the antithesis of everything Chen Mo represented.

Realizing the balance of power had shifted irrevocably, Aaron surged forward.

He closed the gap in a blur, driving his blade deep into Chen Mo's abdomen.

"Urgh!" Chen Mo's body buckled, his knees hitting the invisible floor of the void with a dull thud.

The antimatter within the strike began to unravel his internal structure at a molecular level.

He was helpless against it—beaten, broken, and pinned by a force he could not comprehend.

"This is it," Aaron muttered, his voice cold and final.

He raised his sword high, the tip pointed directly at the heart of the man who had once been his equal.

Chen Mo looked up, his breathing shallow and ragged.

He said nothing.

In the silence of the white expanse, he allowed himself a moment of grim clarity: he had lost.

With his abdomen bleeding out and the antimatter poisoning his essence, he couldn't muster even a fraction of the strength needed to retaliate.

With lethal decisiveness, Aaron lunged, the sword whistling through the air toward Chen Mo's chest.

But just as the blade was inches from its target, Aaron's body seized.

A sudden, agonizing shock tore through his skull, a pain more excruciating than any physical wound he had ever endured.

"Ugh!!!" Aaron shrieked, the sword slipping from his grasp as he clutched his eyes in pure agony.

It felt as if white-hot needles were being driven through his pupils and into his brain.

Chen Mo watched the scene in stunned silence, his mind racing to understand why his executioner had suddenly collapsed in a fit of screams.

He didn't waste time wondering for long.

He wasn't a saint, and he knew a golden opportunity when he saw one.

Forcing himself to ignore the hole in his stomach, Chen Mo gripped his hilt and began to rise, his eyes burning with the desperate intent of a cornered predator.

He prepared a final, killer strike to end the blinded Aaron.

"Hah... Aegon.

I will be sure to kill him when I have the chance," Aaron hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes still clamped shut against the searing pain.

As Chen Mo lunged forward, closing the distance for the kill, Aaron suddenly turned his head.

Even with his eyes squeezed shut, he looked directly at Chen Mo.

An icy chill raced down Chen Mo's spine, a primal warning of impending doom.

In the darkness of Aaron's vision, strange, glowing letters began to drift into view.

He couldn't use his physical eyes, yet he saw these characters with a clarity that transcended sight.

Suddenly, the entire universe—the void, the air, the very flow of energy—went completely still.

Motion ceased.

Reality froze.

Chen Mo was suspended mid-lunge like a statue of marble.

In this frozen pocket of existence, only Aaron's consciousness could move.

Driven by a hollow, haunting curiosity, Aaron reached out with his mind and began to rearrange the floating letters one by one.

He slotted them into place until they formed a single, terrifying word: EXTINCTION.