Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 255: Mother and Daughter Reunion

When Nia and Katherine entered the fortress, they saw it was surprisingly empty.

Every now and then, a maid or butler drifted quietly through the dim hallways—ghostlike in their black-and-crimson uniforms, heads lowered, eyes avoiding theirs—but otherwise, the place was deserted.

There was a good reason for that—while little had changed for the common inhabitants, the higher-ups of the Asuras had been endlessly busy since the war began.

If they weren’t defending key strongholds, they were launching raids, and they knew, just like the Tyrannus Human Clan, that a decisive strike was coming soon.

The final, all-out war was something both sides eagerly anticipated.

On one side stood the unruly human tyrants, and on the other, utterly unhinged psychopaths—so it was only natural that both sides were eager for a fight to decide their fate.

Katherine and Nia made their way deeper into the palace, drawn toward the nearest mana signatures that pulsed like distant war drums from the war room ahead.

The halls stretched wide and echoed with each step, blackened stone walls carved with spiraling runes that glowed faintly crimson, their ceilings lost in shadow.

Every footfall carried the steady thrum of battle-lust ingrained in the very bones of the place.

Katherine caught the subtle falter in Nia’s normally confident stride—wings twitching, fingers flexing as if yearning to grip something, the void-black sun mark on her forehead pulsing unevenly.

With a glint of amusement in her crimson eyes, Katherine tilted her head. “You’re jittery,” she murmured, voice low and teasing. “Is the big, bad Obsidian Devourer nervous about meeting her Mommy after all these centuries?”

Nia shot her a glare—more flustered than truly angry.

“Shut up. It’s… been a while. I saw her fight….. She’s still Mom. I just—” She huffed, small flames flickering at her wingtips in nervous bursts. “Don’t start.”

Katherine chuckled, falling into step beside her. “Relax. She’ll probably be more surprised to see you than you are to see her. I didn’t know you way back, but since I’ve known you, you’ve changed a lot, flame-girl~.”

Nia muttered under her breath, “Not helping.”

As they moved along, voices spilled from the war room ahead—low, commanding tones mingling with the shuffle of maps and the faint clink of armor.

Inside the war room, the air was thick with tension and anticipation.

The chamber was massive—domed ceiling lost in crimson shadows, walls covered in tactical holograms of contested universes, a central obsidian table etched with shifting battle lines.

At the front stood Tylor Narakava, Patriarch of the Narakava Asuras, a towering presence with skin like polished obsidian streaked with crimson lightning, his long black hair flowing like a battle flag.

His voice was a deep, rumbling growl that rolled through the room like distant thunder over a battlefield.

“Fifty years,” Tylor said, sweeping a massive hand over the glowing holographic map. “Fateseer and Temporal say that’s our window.”

He paused, scanning the room before continuing.

“The Tyrannus are tightening their grip. Their First Heir, Rune, has been spotted reinforcing the outer defenses, while Zion and Nyx are pulling together strike teams. We’ll hit them from three angles.

Voidshadow Revenants slipping through the shadow-veils, Aether Supreme Titans charging in from the storm-fronts, and our main force pushing straight through the central rift.”

The allies stirred—each voice carrying the weight of eight centuries of unrelenting war.

Ignis Drakon spoke first, molten gold scales shimmering as he leaned forward, wings of eternal flame crackling in the still air.

“We’ve lost three universes to those damn tyrant tides—whole sectors turned to ash. My people still carry the scars, and some wounds will take cycles to heal. There’s no need to even worry about whether we’re ready!”

Sola Drakon stood beside him, solar plasma curling around her like living auroras, her voice steady but laced with barely contained fury.

“This war has gone on far too long already. The longer we wait to end it, the more allies they’ll drag out of nowhere!”

Umbra Reven’s voice came like graveyard whispers from his swirling mass of shadows, purple-glowing eyes hollow and unblinking.

“Heh, don’t speak as if those Humans have been beating our asses. Yes, we lost a few universe… we also we repaid in everything in darkness—every loss mirrored, every death echoed back tenfold.”

Ebon Reven’s velvet voice followed, graceful yet cold. “Exactly and this final battle will be no different. Whatever those humans throw at us it will be repaid tenfold.”

Thunderforge’s booming voice rumbled like storm thunder, his crystal body crackling with contained lightning. “Haha, you know where we stand. The main forge universe is still cranking out weapons… We will be prepared.”

Temporal Echo spoke in layered whispers, its crystalline form slipping through timelines.

“I just wish I could see more… Fifty years feels way too vague.”

Fateseer’s steady gaze held galaxies of possible futures, their voice calm.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they had someone just as in tune with Fate as we are. As long as we have a specific time, nothing else will matter. This is the final battle, so nothing will be held back regardless.”

Shia stood at the edge of the map, arms crossed, a fractured, ecstatic smile tugging at her lips. Her voice came sharp and eager as she spoke.

“This time, Zion’s finished,” she said, eyes alight with wild glee. “No more games, no more mercy. I’ll rip his sanity apart and serve it back to him before it’s over.”

Sandra stood silently at Tylor’s side, her gaze far away but lit with a cold, unwavering resolve. In her thoughts, Nyx’s face flashed—revenge smoldering like a patient flame, waiting for its moment to burn.

The air vibrated with shared madness—raw readiness, old wounds, and debts of blood all pulling toward the inevitable clash.

Then, with a deep, creaking groan, the great doors opened.

Nia and Katherine walked in, their auras glowing gently, instantly changing the vibe in the room. Sandra’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching and eyes widening as the shock of recognition hit her like a punch.

Shia’s uneasy smile faltered for a moment, then stretched wider in stunned disbelief.

“Little… little sister?”

The war room fell silent—every gaze snapping to the doorway. The allies obviously knew about Sandra’s missing children, but with the war consuming everyone’s attention, no one could truly focus on it.

Still, they knew more about her than they realized. Shia had already told Sandra about her encounter with Ash and Nia, even mentioning that he would soon arrive. She just never expected it to be this soon.

Sandra said nothing as her eyes welled with tears briefly before they disappeared.

In an instant, she vanished from behind Tylor and reappeared, wrapping Nia in a hug filled with pure motherly love. The thirst for revenge clouding her mind, along with her wild nature, was gone.

In that moment, she was just a mother reunited with her daughter after countless years apart.

“Little Nia…” she murmured, and Nia, feeling the long-lost embrace, melted into it.

“Mother…”