Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

"What did you say?" Baal's voice cut through the tense silence, heavy with disbelief. His face, usually so composed, betrayed a flicker of genuine surprise.

By Lucien's side, Kaelith stiffened, eyes wide. He had faced battles, betrayals, and countless secrets, but this—this was new.

"She is pregnant," Lucien said, his tone sharp though his body trembled with fatigue. His crimson eyes burned with quiet defiance. "With my child."

Baal blinked once, then narrowed his gaze. "Impossible." He stepped closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the younger vampire. "A pure-blood vampire, barely matured, cannot sire a child. Especially with one just as young as you. It defies our laws and our nature."

"I know what it sounds like," Lucien replied, lowering his head slightly, sadness threading his voice. "But it happened. It's real. She carries my child."

Kaelith's jaw tightened. His brother's words struck something raw within him—guilt, anger, confusion. Was he angry at Lucien for his recklessness? Or guilty for not protecting him? Emotions warred in his chest, threatening to spill over.

Baal's expression shifted to something colder, darker. He let out a sharp exhale that might have been a laugh. "An anomaly. That's what this is. The cursed universe, always meddling, always birthing problems where none should exist." His gaze hardened like iron. "Lucien, listen well. I do not tolerate loose ends. That… thing inside her? That child? It's a loose end that I will not leave dangling. Pray to whatever gods you like that she is cast into the void or a barren world. Because if she lives—if that anomaly breathes air and sees light—I will find them both, and I will kill them."

Lucien glared up at him, rage flickering behind his exhaustion, but Baal was unmoved.

"Now," Baal said abruptly, as if brushing off the entire subject, "we plan your father's end." Without ceremony, he seized both brothers with unnatural strength. The three vanished into the stars, leaving Mexia silent and cold.

---

Castle Dracula – The Chalice

Dracula sat upon his throne, the ancient seat carved from obsidian and steeped in a presence that chilled the blood of even the bravest. Calm, but his sharp gaze missed nothing.

Regi, his second-in-command, approached and knelt, holding a silver chalice that seemed to hum with restrained power. "It is done, my lord," he said, voice reverent. "The ultimate invention of our kind."

Dracula's eyes, crimson pools of curiosity and authority, studied the artifact. "A chalice?" he mused. "Explain."

Regi stood, raising the cup with both hands. "The chalice is only the vessel. It connects to the true source—the main pool we engineered in an independent space. Countless theories, supernatural and technological, were woven together to create this. Pour blood into this chalice, and the process is executed instantly. No weapon, no spell in existence surpasses it."

Dracula took it, weighing it carefully. "You have done well, Regi."

Before more could be said, a vampire sprinted into the hall, dropping to one knee, his chest heaving. "My lord! The princes—they have been taken!"

Dracula's gaze shifted to him, his tone calm enough to unsettle even Regi. "Explain."

"The people of Mexia saw Baal himself," the messenger said quickly. "He departed with both princes. They say he carried them away."

Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Then Dracula stood, his expression unchanging, but the air thickened with a promise of violence.

"A trap," he murmured. "A deliberate provocation." His lips curved, not quite a smile. "It seems the universe has forgotten who I am."

Regi stepped forward urgently. "My lord, please. Take trusted warriors. Take me. We can strike together."

Dracula turned, chalice in hand, cloak trailing behind him like a living shadow. "I require no allies, Regi. I only require enemies."

---

The Gathering of Powers

Baal stood before the mightiest of the cosmos, gathered in a chamber of shifting stone and light. Zeus leaned against a pillar, impatience crackling like the storm within him. "Baal," he growled. "This cryptic emergency grows tiresome."

Baal smiled faintly. "The plan is in motion. A critical step has been taken. I hold Dracula's sons."

The room stirred; even gods found silence when shocked. Odin's single eye narrowed, his lips curling. "Fool," he spat. "We asked for a plan to end Dracula, not to enrage him into a frenzy."

Baal shrugged, his confidence radiating like heat. "Relax. Every move has its reason. This is phase two. And it is far from gentle. We will need every blade, every spell, every god and devil ready."

"Speak plainly," Odin said coldly. "We do not follow you blind."

"You will see soon enough." Baal's grin widened. "Sit back and enjoy the show."

---

Planet of Demons – The Blood Suckers

The demon world quaked when Dracula arrived. His voice, amplified by sheer will, swept across its mountains and caverns.

"Baal," he said, each syllable a threat. "Where are my sons? Where is Velira?"

The planet answered with silence. All that Dracula sensed were two fading life forces, one weaker than the other. He moved toward them without hesitation.

The trail led underground, deep into the planet's veins, until he found a chamber lit by an eerie, pulsating glow. There, two strange trees grew—fed by the lifeblood of his sons.

Dracula stopped, face unreadable, though a storm raged inside him. He approached slowly, studying the plants, recognizing them instantly. His eyes hardened. "Blood suckers."

He understood Baal's design: force him to choose. Save his sons at the cost of his strength, or keep his power and let them die.

The answer was not a choice. It was instinct.

He sliced open his palms, blood as ancient and potent as the first night spilling onto the roots. "Taste mine," he said calmly. "It is far richer than theirs."

The plants reacted violently, blooming in grotesque beauty, tendrils snapping toward the source. They latched onto his wounds, writhing up his arms, embedding deep into his body. Soon they found his heart, binding themselves to him.

Far away, Odin observed through mystic sight. "So he accepts the burden," he said softly.

Baal, clad in gleaming battle armor, smirked. "The hunt begins. Let us see who survives the game."