Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Aaron conjured a vast conference room within his sanctuary, the walls shimmering faintly with a silver hue that pulsed like a living heartbeat. At the center, a round obsidian table stretched wide, its surface reflecting the dim glow of ethereal lamps suspended in midair. Seated around it were his closest allies—his inner circle—each bearing a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. At the head of the table sat Aaron, composed and commanding, his presence alone enough to settle the restless energy in the room.

"Alright," Aaron began, his voice cutting through the silence with calm authority. "Let's move into the next phase of our plan—the foundation of the strongest clan and, in time, the mightiest empire."

Before his words could settle, Alice leaned forward, her brows knitted tightly. "First of all, why did you let Draken go? I don't buy that little act about asking if they wanted to be turned or not." Her tone was sharp, reflecting the unease gnawing at the group.

Aaron's lips curved into a cynical smile. "It was all a show. A way to lower his guard and make him believe that his true identity remains hidden."

Leo frowned, tilting his head slightly. "I'm not following."

Aaron's gaze sharpened. "Draken is no heir. He's a demon—the one pulling the strings in the shadows."

The declaration dropped like a thunderclap.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Alice blurted out, her face paling. "How could you even know that?"

Her voice wavered. She had spent time with Draken in countless discussions and events. As the supposed heir to the Blaze Clan, he was familiar—too familiar—for Aaron's revelation to make sense. The thought clawed at her: What happened to the real Draken?

Aaron leaned back, his eyes carrying a dangerous glint. "I once captured an Abyssal Demigod and wrung the truth from him. He revealed that the demon who ordered my death went by the name Draken. When I saw Draken again, bearing the same name as the demon, I grew suspicious of his identity. So I lured him into the sanctuary—where my omnipotent authority reigns absolute—and confirmed the truth myself."

The table went still. His calm explanation, laid out with methodical precision, unsettled them even more than the revelation itself.

[You really are good at lying, aren't you?] The system's dry voice echoed in Aaron's mind, all too familiar with his shameless tendencies.

"Don't say that," Aaron replied inwardly, keeping his face unreadable. "I'm merely bending the truth."

[Truly, you cannot shame the shameless.]

The reality was far simpler than he allowed anyone to believe. He had stumbled upon the truth while casually checking Draken's status—something he had failed to notice during the examination, when his own strength had been insufficient to pierce through hidden information.

Draken's true ability was monstrous. He wielded the fraudulent power of Doppelganger—a skill that allowed him to devour another being and take not only their appearance, but also their memories and abilities. With such a gift, he could blend seamlessly into any life he chose, wearing stolen identities like masks.

"Then what about the real Draken?" Leo finally asked, his voice edged with dread.

"Dead," Aaron answered flatly. "Devoured and erased."

A heavy silence settled in.

Isobel spoke next, her tone sharp. "If he's the demon behind it, why didn't you just kill him inside the sanctuary?" She knew her brother well; he would never waste an opportunity without reason.

Aaron's smirk returned. "Because I want him to lead me to his accomplices. As far as I'm concerned, Draken is already dead. I stuffed him with my blood essence when he was here. At any moment, I can snuff out his life like a candle."

"Smart," Michael muttered approvingly, leaning back in his seat. "That's one enemy marked for the grave—and more yet to come."

Aaron's fingers tapped once against the obsidian table. "Indeed. But now, to the true reason we've gathered—the creation of an empire. What do we need to begin?"

Alice, ever straightforward, raised her hand slightly. "First of all, a name. What do we call ourselves?"

"Athanys," Isobel suggested after a pause, her tone thoughtful.

Aaron's smile deepened. "Athanys… the Land of Immortals."

"Yes," Isobel said firmly. "It speaks of mystery and power. It hints at what we truly are—that which cannot die."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "Then what about the emperor's title? What should you be called?"

"Dracula once bore the name 'Lord of the Eternal Night,'" Isobel mused, analyzing carefully. "Catchy, but arrogant."

"Death Sovereign?" Leo offered.

Aaron shook his head. "No. Doesn't suit me."

"Crimson Monarch?" another voice suggested.

"No. Not catchy enough," Aaron dismissed, waving his hand.

"Eternal Monarch? Lord of Eternity? At this rate you should just pick one," Isobel said, her patience fraying.

Aaron chuckled, his tone deliberately smug. "Why pick one? I'll take them all—Sovereign of Eternity, Deathless Sovereign, Eclipse Monarch… whatever name they whisper, they all point to me."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then let's move on before you crown yourself with every title under the sun."

Aaron straightened, his tone regaining its edge. "Territory allocation. Michael, you will be Arch Duke. Isobel—commander of the armies and Arch Duke as well. Leo, my personal adviser. Derrick and Bailey shall hold the title of Count. Blade will rise as Duke. More positions will be filled as we grow. For now, Leo, spread word to the people: they can earn nobility within my empire. All they need is merit."

"Wait," Isobel interjected, her eyes flicking toward Alice. "What about her?"

Aaron didn't hesitate. "She doesn't need a title. She is my wife—and the Empress." His voice brooked no argument.

Alice blinked, startled. "I am?"

Aaron met her eyes, unwavering. "Yes. Do you not wish to stand as my Empress?"

Her cheeks flushed, her voice trembling. "I… I do."

Her acceptance stirred mixed feelings around the table. Most wore neutral expressions, but Leo couldn't stop himself from muttering under his breath, "Life's too easy when you're handsome. Didn't even have to think before she said yes."

Aaron ignored him. The meeting pressed on, delving into the backbone of their empire.

The highest rank was, naturally, Aaron himself as Emperor, with Alice as Empress directly beneath him. Leo, his adviser, stood apart—bound only to Aaron and Alice, free from the authority of all others. Beneath them were three Arch Dukes, each presiding over two Dukes. Every Duke commanded two Marquis, each Marquis oversaw two Counts, and each Count ruled three Viscounts. Under the Viscounts were Barons, each managing three beneath them.

The hierarchy stretched downward like a carefully woven net, designed to sustain and expand endlessly.

Barons could muster up to five Hybrid Knights; Viscounts ten; Counts twenty; Marquis fifty; Dukes a hundred; and Arch Dukes a thousand. These Hybrid Knights were the personal blades of each noble house, their strength swelling the armies as the empire grew.

With the ranks decided, Aaron distributed territories among his chosen nobles, leaving portions of land vacant—waiting for future pillars of Athanys to rise and claim them.

And thus, the skeletal frame of a new empire took its first breath.