Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

"You bastard! Do not think you are invincible!" Abyss roared, his patience shattered by Aaron's unyielding demeanor. His presence flickered, and in an instant, he appeared before Aaron, a dagger laced with venomous poison gleaming in his hand as he drove it toward Aaron's throat with lethal precision.

"Actually, I am," Aaron replied, his tone nonchalant as he locked eyes with Abyss. The dagger froze an inch from his eye, Abyss paralyzed by Aaron's control over his blood, his body rigid under the weight of an unbreakable force.

"What I am curious about, though, is you," Aaron said, his gaze shifting to King with a faint, intrigued smile. "Why did you choose the blue ribbon?"

"What?!" The room erupted in shock, every leader except Aaron and King voicing their disbelief in gasps and murmurs, their faces contorted with confusion and betrayal.

"King, what is he talking about?" Vinemaster demanded, a deep frown creasing his brow, mirrored by the others' stunned expressions.

"What do you mean? Have you forgotten what continent I am from?" King replied, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Perhaps power has rotted your brains, but you underestimated him far too much, did you not?" He rose to his feet, strolling toward Aaron with unhurried calm, ignoring the betrayed glares from his former allies.

"I care about power, but I care more for my life. That is why I chose the blue ribbon. Plus, I trusted my instincts on how ruthless you are," King said, stopping before Aaron and offering a deep, submissive bow, his demeanor a perfect blend of cunning and deference.

Hailing from Ren, the lawless continent where betrayal was a daily ritual and survival demanded razor-sharp instincts, King had risen to the top by betting on the right forces. His choice was no surprise—it was his nature.

"May I have the honor of killing the bastard who dared attack my liege?" King asked, his tone dripping with sycophantic zeal, his eyes gleaming with opportunity.

Aaron nodded, granting permission with a slight tilt of his head, his expression unreadable.

King moved toward Abyss, plucking the poisoned dagger from his frozen hand. He smiled, showing no remorse for the hatred burning in Abyss's eyes. "Honestly, I never liked you either, bastard," King said, savoring the moment as he drove the dagger slowly through Abyss's right eye.

Abyss endured excruciating pain, unable to scream or move, his body still locked by Aaron's power. King twisted the blade deeper, embedding it fully into Abyss's skull. "How refreshing," he grinned, stepping back to admire his work, the act a testament to his ruthless pragmatism.

"My lord, if it pleases you, I can dispose of these traitors. You need not dirty your hands with this trash—I am willing to handle it," King requested, his cunning nature sparking Aaron's interest.

"Very well. Do as you please," Aaron replied, his voice calm but edged with finality. "But he is mine," he added coldly, extending his hand.

Eric was yanked forward by an irresistible force, his neck caught in Aaron's iron grip. "So, have anything to say? Perhaps you should remind me of my inexperience. After all, you have more experience in dying," Aaron said, his tone icy, each word laced with contempt as he tightened his hold.

"Urgh," Eric croaked, gasping for air as Aaron's grip crushed his windpipe. "You do not have to do this… We were wrong. We will never betray you again. We swear!" he forced out, desperation flickering in his eyes as he struggled.

"Sorry. I do not offer second chances to those I do not like," Aaron replied, his expression unyielding as he snapped Eric's neck with a swift, decisive motion, letting the limp body collapse to the ground, ending the primary instigator of the rebellion with cold finality.

"I am beginning to be proud of my choice," King said, his grin widening as he turned to the remaining leaders, Aaron's ruthless efficiency only solidifying his decision.

Two chains materialized from thin air, latching onto King's skin like living parasites, glowing red as they fed on his blood, sparking with fervent energy. At the ends of the chains hung two large, sharp blades, pulsing with a life of their own.

"Terror Twins, it is time for action," King smiled, rushing toward the hundreds of rebel leaders with predatory glee, his eyes devoid of fear, brimming with confidence.

"Aaron, stop this nonsense!" Vinemaster roared, conjuring massive vines stronger than steel, their sharp tips aimed to impale King as they surged forward with relentless force.

"You keep adding to your sins!" King laughed, swinging his chains. The blades moved in perfect sync, slicing through the vines like paper, reducing them to scattered fragments in a blur of motion.

The chains danced like serpents, encircling Vinemaster from unpredictable angles, striking with relentless precision and placing him at a severe disadvantage, their movements almost alive with malicious intent.

Vinemaster summoned a flurry of vines, their steel-hard tendrils erupting from the ground in a desperate bid to break free from the relentless encirclement of King's chains. Each vine twisted and lashed with frenzied vigor, their surfaces gleaming with an unnatural resilience, yet they proved futile against the predatory precision of King's weapons. The Terror Twins, his chain-bound blades, sliced through the vines like a sharpened knife through soft tofu, reducing them to scattered fragments that littered the ground in a matter of seconds, the air filled with the sharp snap of severed greenery.

Despite the formidable, almost indestructible nature of Vinemaster's vines, honed through years of mastery, they were no match for King's chain blades. The weapons moved with a life of their own, their edges glinting with blood-red energy as they carved through every defense with effortless grace, each cut a testament to King's ruthless efficiency.

King manipulated his chains with masterful control, his grin widening as one chain coiled tightly around Vinemaster, constricting like a serpent, pinning his arms and crushing his resistance. The other chain, its blade pulsing with lethal intent, darted forward for the kill, aimed at Vinemaster's heart, ready to end the rebel's defiance in a single, decisive strike.

Aaron observed the clash from his conjured throne, his golden eyes gleaming with intrigue, the locked space ensuring no interference as King's chains danced their deadly waltz.