Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

A hall overflowing with dense, purified mana hummed with tension. It wasn't often that so many sovereigns of the universe gathered in one place. The chamber itself was grand—polished white marble floors lined with intricate runes, pillars carved from starstone, and a ceiling so high it seemed to disappear into a swirling mist of cosmic energy. Here sat the rulers of countless races, each one carrying an aura that could shake worlds. Yet despite their power, an unspoken weight pressed down on them. There was only one reason these beings would set aside their pride to meet: Dracula Highborn.

Odin, the all-seeing god and chief of the Asgardians, sat at the head of the table, his single eye gleaming like a storm contained. Beside him, Zeus lounged in his seat, barely concealing his irritation, lightning flickering faintly across his golden cuffs. The leaders of other godly pantheons flanked them, each carrying the same mixture of pride and unease.

Seraphel, the serene yet stern leader of the angelic race, shone with holy radiance, his calm expression hiding the calculations running behind his glowing eyes. Opposite him, the fallen angel Lucifer leaned back casually, his black wings folded, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. The tension between them was a living thing, though neither acknowledged it.

Baal, the demon sovereign, exuded controlled malice, his presence sharp like a blade. Mephistopheles, the devil ruler, wore his usual unreadable grin. Even the mechanical race's cold, efficient leader had attended, its metallic body clicking faintly as it processed everything silently. There were dragons—ancient and proud, their scales glimmering like starlight; elves of otherworldly grace; spirits, undead lords, and other high races, all gathered for one purpose.

And that purpose was fear. Fear of a single name: Dracula Highborn.

---

"We need to face the truth," Mephistopheles began, his voice carrying across the vast hall like a measured blade. "Dracula has gone unchecked for far too long. He is growing out of control, and while some of you pretend not to care, you all feel the noose tightening around your necks. We ignored him when he wiped out a vampire clan. Fine—most of us care little for their politics. But when he turned his attention to the werewolves, when he hunted them to near extinction and drove the remnants out of the universe, it became our problem. That was not just a feud. That was dominance. And it keeps the rest of us awake."

"That's the werewolf clan you're talking about," Zeus scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "They were never strong enough to matter."

Mephistopheles' smile widened, but his words cut like poison. "Is that so? How is your son, Ares, these days? Has he healed from the humiliation of being called 'mediocre' after Dracula fed on his blood? And your wife, Hera—must sting, doesn't it, knowing her blood was tasted by another being?"

The room shifted as Zeus rose slightly, his fury sparking, literal lightning dancing across his frame. "Say that again."

"What are you going to do?" Mephistopheles didn't flinch, devilish energy coiling around him like smoke. "I'm simply speaking truth, and your pride can't stomach it. We all know it—even you. None of us can match Dracula. Not as things stand."

"Enough," Odin's voice thundered, the sound vibrating through the hall. "Sit down, both of you. This is not the time for petty rivalry." His one eye swept the room. "And Zeus, Mephistopheles is correct. Whether we like it or not, Dracula has become something beyond containment. We need to decide, here and now, how to prevent the universe itself from bending to him. If we delay, he will not just hunt—he will consume."

A deep, ancient voice rumbled through the hall then, shaking the very pillars. "The devil speaks truth, for once." The Primordial Dragon, its massive body curled behind an enchanted barrier, shifted its gleaming head. "Dracula cannot be ignored. His immortality alone tilts the balance. He will outlast us all unless we strike first. Better to hunt him now than allow him hunt us in the future."

Baal chuckled darkly, drawing every eye to him. "You are all speaking like frightened children. I've been expecting this outcome for centuries. While you wrung your hands, I was preparing."

Mephistopheles raised a brow, his grin sharp. "Baal. Always the schemer. Tell me, why is it the angels still breathe? Did your little plots lose their edge?"

"Let's say," Baal replied smoothly, his crimson eyes glinting, "I like to keep some toys around. Even the angel race is amusing if you play the game right. But Dracula is not a game. Dracula is inevitable—unless we are clever."

Seraphel ignored the bait, his golden eyes narrowing. "Then speak. What is your plan?"

"Simple," Baal said, standing slowly, letting his presence stretch over them like a shadow. "You do not crush a being like Dracula through force. You strike where even gods are blind—through the heart. Love, loyalty, blood. The things that make him… not invincible."

"Out with it already," Zeus snapped, impatient.

"It is already in motion," Baal said with a devil's smile. "Kaelith—the loyal son—is leading his brother into a trap as we speak. And the brother? Lucien. The perfect key."

There was a ripple of murmurs. Seraphel leaned forward. "Explain. How does a boy solve this?"

Lucifer finally spoke, his voice like velvet laced with knives. "Do not underestimate sentiment. All of you know Dracula's first love. You know what her death did to him. And now his son, Lucien… the mirror of that woman. The living reminder. Baal understands this better than you. If Dracula has a weakness, it is that boy."

Baal grinned wider. "Exactly. I will take Lucien. The rest will fall into place. But I will require your cooperation when the time comes."

"You're sure of this?" Odin asked quietly.

"Absolutely," Baal replied, already turning. "You'll see. When this is done, the universe will no longer bow to a single vampire."

One by one, the others began to leave, some silent, some doubtful, but none denying that the demon's words carried dangerous logic.

---

Far away, within the dark fortress of the Ripper Clan, a voice interrupted the silence of the throne chamber.

"Lord Dracula—"

"I know," Dracula said without looking, his tone calm but sharp. "They gather, those who believe themselves kings and gods. They plot. Let them."

"My lord, forgive me, but these are not small enemies," the elder continued cautiously. "Their retaliation may come swiftly."

"They are nothing," Dracula said, rising slowly. His crimson gaze burned like a star. "They forget whose shadow they live in. Their whispers do not reach me. But… preparations must be complete. Tell me, how goes the work I commanded?"

The elder's expression shifted, awe creeping into his features. "Almost complete, my lord. By tomorrow, the Infinite Blood Pool shall be finished. A device capable of holding the blood of every conquered race. It will replicate endlessly, regenerate without fail. With it, your thirst will never again be a weakness."

Dracula's smile was faint, but deadly. "Good. Then the chains of my curse will break. Let them come; I will meet them as I always have—alone."

He paused then, his expression softening for just a moment. "After it is done, summon my sons. It is time they learned the truth of their mother."

The elder hesitated. "My lord… they are not here. The young princes have gone to Mexia. It seems there is word of a stray werewolf on the planet."

"Mexia…" Dracula's gaze darkened briefly before he waved a hand. "Very well. Inform me when they return. And complete the pool. When the time comes, I will truly be invincible."