Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 612 612: DOMINATION II

"Your face is so punchable," Aaron mocked, shaking out his hand.

He appeared beside the reeling Aegon before the latter could even stabilize.

"Now, where were we in our education curriculum?

I believe we were discussing your hubris."

Aegon lunged, realizing Aaron was finally within the conceptual "Arm's Reach."

He tried to ignite the absolute authority of his Mystic Hands, a command that should have turned Aaron's internal organs into liquid.

Aaron stood there, unbothered, looking at his own chest as if checking for dust.

"You seriously need to stop trying so hard.

It's embarrassing."

Aaron's leg whipped upward, his heel slamming into Aegon's midsection and pinning him to the cratered floor.

Boom!

Aegon's spine cracked against the obsidian.

He spat a fountain of blood, his Mystic Brain lighting up like a frantic switchboard, desperately trying to dampen the agonizing signals of his nervous system.

"Good brain you've got there," Aaron noted with a terrifyingly pleasant tone.

"Thanks to its processing speed, we can do this for as long as we want."

CRACK.

Aaron kicked Aegon again, sending him skipping across the hall like a discarded toy.

"Stay still, Aaron!" Aegon shrieked, his Mystic Tongue lashing out with a command that should have paralyzed a galaxy.

"No," Aaron whispered, his voice manifesting directly in Aegon's ear despite the distance.

He was flying alongside the tumbling "King," matching his erratic trajectory with zero effort.

BOOM!

Another blow sent Aegon spiraling in the opposite direction.

Aaron finally came to a halt, crossing his arms and allowing Aegon a moment to scramble to his feet.

Panting, his eyes bloodshot and wide with terror, Aegon tore open his own stomach.

He allowed his Mystic Blood to spill forth in a torrential flood, pooling across the floor.

From the crimson depths, dozens of white, featureless soldiers began to rise.

These weren't mere summons; every single one of them pulsed with the base power of the Nameless Rank.

A massive white soldier, shaped like a silver gorilla, charged Aaron, its fist descending like a falling star.

Aaron didn't even blink.

He stood his ground, offering no defense, no dodge, and no counter-aura.

The gorilla's fist connected with Aaron's shoulder.

BOOM!

The soldier didn't just fail to move Aaron; it exploded.

The sheer reactive force of Aaron's passive durability was so immense that the silver gorilla shattered into smithereens upon impact.

The rest of the white army roared, attacking in a desperate, unified wave.

Aaron smiled—a sharp, predatory expression.

He lunged into the center of the horde.

He threw a single punch, and the air pressure alone turned the front line into white dust.

A soldier lunged from his left; Aaron simply exhaled.

The "breeze" from his lungs struck the Nameless-rank entity like a concentrated hurricane, stripping the essence from its bones until nothing remained.

He moved through them like a reaper, a punch here, a kick there, each movement punctuated by the sound of high-tier entities detonating into nothingness.

Aegon watched the carnage from the edge of the room, his face pale and his hands trembling.

He had intended to use the army to pressure Aaron, to buy himself time to recover, but he realized with a sinking heart that he wasn't watching a battle.

He was watching a cleanup crew.

Every second Aaron spent dismantling the army was a second Aegon used to stitch his mangled body back together, yet for every wound he healed, his soul felt heavier with the realization that he was trapped in a room with a monster he could no longer understand.

Aegon lunged forward, his face a mask of desperate resolve.

He hoped that by joining the fray, his own presence would act as the catalyst needed for his Nameless army to finally weigh Aaron down.

"Oh?

Looks like the MVP is rested enough to join the party," Aaron noted, his smile broadening.

He didn't wind up a punch or prepare a complex spell.

He simply raised his foot and brought it down in a sharp, authoritative stomp.

The resulting shockwave wasn't just a ripple of force; it was a conceptual erasure.

The white soldiers, entities that could have each conquered an entire entity, were snuffed out instantly, dissolving like mist in a furnace.

Aegon froze mid-charge, his jaw dropping.

He stood there, speechless, his mind reeling as he tried to process the math of the encounter.

Nameless-rank beings were supposed to be the peak of existence, yet Aaron had cleared dozens of them as if he were shaking dust off a rug.

"Don't be so shocked.

This is barely the beginning," Aaron informed him, his voice devoid of any strain.

"And just so we're clear: this will continue until I am satisfied."

Before Aegon's mystic synapses could fire a response, Aaron's hand was already a vice around his throat.

He hoisted the "King of All" into the air as if he weighed nothing.

"So?

Got any more tricks you want to show me?" Aaron asked, his eyes shimmering with that maddening, interlocked infinity.

Aegon thrashed, his mystic limbs clawing at Aaron's arm, but it was like a child trying to bend a pillar of divine iron.

"No?" Aaron sighed.

He tossed Aegon upward like a piece of refuse, his gaze turning flat and vacant.

Aegon, suspended in the air, caught that look.

It wasn't hatred.

It wasn't even malice.

It was boredom.

The realization that he, the wielder of the mystic organs, the ruler of the Throne, had become a source of ennui to Aaron triggered something primal.

The shame burned hotter than his eternal flames.

"DIEEEEE!" Aegon shrieked, pointing both hands downward.

He funneled every scrap of his remaining essence into a relentless barrage of antimatter.

Thrum-Thrum-Thrum!

The beams rained down, turning the center of the courtroom into a void where matter ceased to exist.

Aaron stood at the epicenter, a slight smile returning to his face.

"Finally.

You're actually getting serious."

Aegon didn't stop.

He coiled antimatter around his boots and ignited a compressed blast of gale and flame behind him, using the thermal expansion to catapult himself downward like a meteor.

BOOM!

The impact shook the very foundations of the Prime World.

A massive cloud of pulverized stone and ionized air filled the room.

Aegon crouched in the center of the crater, his chest heaving.

His body felt brittle; controlling that much antimatter while shielding himself from its corrosive touch was taking a catastrophic toll on his mystic soul.

"Ha... ha... ha..."

He caught his breath, waiting for the dust to settle so he could relish the sight of Aaron's remains.

But as the silence stretched on, a cold, prickly sensation began to crawl up his spine.

Something was wrong.

His feet, which should have been planted in the rubble of the crater, felt... elevated.

The surface he was standing on wasn't the jagged obsidian of the floor.

It was too narrow.

Too symmetrical.

And it was warm.

Fighting a wave of pure, instinctual terror, Aegon slowly tilted his head down.

His eyes nearly burst from their sockets.

His feet weren't on the ground.

They were being held firmly in the upturned palms of Aaron, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of the antimatter-scoured pit, completely unharmed.

"What?" Aaron asked, his smile appearing through the settling dust, bright and terrifying.

He looked up at the trembling Aegon, his grip tightening just enough to let the "King" feel the mountain-crushing strength in his fingers.

"You really didn't expect to take me down with that measly little tantrum, did you?"