Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 315: The Final Knot

Hearing those words, Ash felt a flicker of disappointment.

“And to think I was dying for a fight with you not long ago,” he said, shaking his head before casually reappearing among his women.

Vane swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on the group before him.

’Who… who are these people?’

Before, he had assumed Ash was simply another talented anomaly — one of many he’d encountered through the Mark of Weaver.

But seeing so many beings whose power he couldn’t even sense, let alone measure… it filled him with a dread far deeper than anything that had ever chased him.

“Fight me?” Vane scoffed weakly, waving a hand as if brushing off the fear clawing at his spine.

“You’d have more fun inside the Mark of Weaver… assuming you’ve found one.”

Ash rolled his eyes.

He could read Vane like an open book.

But he hadn’t come here for a fight. As Elysia had said — this man was the key to the other Organisms.

Ash’s eyes glowed faintly as he sifted through Vane’s entire life, every memory unfolding before him like pages turning in a book. He spoke as if nothing unusual was happening.

“Right. The Mark of Weaver. Tell me—what do you know about it?”

He asked even though he already knew the answer.

He was watching it play out in real time. But easing the tension felt necessary; Vane looked one breath away from collapsing from sheer fright.

“The Mark of Weaver… it’s divided into two levels. We call them the Lower Realm and the Higher Realm,” Vane said, forcing himself to continue.

From what Ash gathered, the Mark of the Weaver functioned like its own dimension—separate yet intricately woven into all the organisms.

Originally created for the most talented, it had long since become a second home to countless people. Beyond the official trials and competitions, the place thrived on clan rivalries and constant challenges like any other.

“So, if I’m not wrong, we’ll stay in the Lower Realm until we reach… Hyperversal Weaver?” Lady Truth asked.

“Correct. I haven’t been beyond the Lower Realm myself… I’m merely a Transcendent,” Vane said, his tone respectful.

Ash nodded as he finished sifting through seventy cycles of Vane’s memories. The man wasn’t just cautious—he was fear incarnate.

“The Anvil Lords, huh?” Ash said with a smirk.

Vane went pale instantly.

“To think you were framed over a sword,” Ash muttered. The bounty on Vane’s head all stemmed from the Anvil Lords believing he’d stolen one.

Ash could clearly see the truth in Vane’s memories—this man wasn’t the type to steal anything.

Hell, he barely left his home.

Ten full cycles at the Transcendent rank, and he still hadn’t stepped into the Middle Dimension.

All because he was too afraid to move forward without overwhelming power.

’He gives me Han Jue vibes… though that guy would probably destroy the world first before running,’ Ash thought.

The sword in question though, it wasn’t ordinary.

It was sentient—alive, with a soul of its own. That alone stirred Ash’s curiosity, reminding him of Primordia.

A weapon meant to grow alongside him… though in this case, that growth was tied to rank. Something that could no longer define the power Ash wielded.

As he considered this, Vane spoke in a low, hesitant voice.

“…Are you not from this dimension?”

Ash ignored the foolish question. Today, he chose benevolence.

“Since you technically helped me with information, I’ll give you two options. One: I destroy the Anvil Lords for you. Two: I give you a weapon strong enough to buy your freedom.”

Yonna laughed from behind, her voice bright with anticipation.

“Finally. Now it feels like we’re about to have some fun.” Her untamed aura flared, wild and eager.

“Sister, must you be so wild?” Sonna sighed, shaking her head.

“You can’t blame her,” Rune added. “I want to break something too.”

While the women chatted, Vane finally spoke again after studying Ash for a long, uncertain moment.

He still couldn’t tell if Ash was joking… so he decided to test him.

“Destroy them,” Vane said. “But I should warn you—”

Ash waved a hand, cutting him off.

He blinked once, and in that instant his mind branched into countless paths—waiting in the Lower Dimension, abandoning Vane, leaving trackers behind, intervening early or late.

Every possibility revolved around one question: help Vane or don’t.

Ash sifted through the branching futures with practiced ease. All of it was simply to pinpoint the arrival of the Anvil Lords.

’I don’t doubt me restoring Earth caused a few ripples,’ he thought.

The moment the thought passed, his perception stretched outward. A century unfolded before him in a single breath.

His foresight was no longer limited to hours. Now, he could peer through an entire century every day. And as the timelines converged, one truth remained unshakably constant:

The Anvil Lords would not arrive in the Ninth Lower Dimension first.

Not because they were taking their time, but because countless powerful figures were already being drawn into a far more compelling event within the Mark of the Weaver.

Ash glanced back at Vane. “Alright. In a few years, you won’t have to worry about the Anvil Lords. We’ll be venturing into the Mark of the Weaver for a while. You can tag along… or don’t.”

He turned away, cloak shifting behind him.

“But I wouldn’t advise staying in this Lower Dimension much longer,” he added. “Not if you value your life as much as you seem to.”

The women naturally followed, clustering around him again. Vane watched them go, frozen for a moment.

’Isn’t this what I wanted?’ he wondered. Ash was strong—how strong, he still couldn’t tell.

But one thing was certain: with Ash, he’d be protected.

A heartbeat later, he appeared a short distance behind the group.

“I don’t mind tagging along,” Vane said quickly. “You’ll need someone to show you around the Lower Realm, after all.”

Ash scoffed under his breath. He knew exactly what the man was thinking. Ignoring him, he spoke to his wives while writing into the codex.

“My lovely wives, how does attending a Grand Ceremonial Ball sound?”

Most of their eyes lit up—not because of the ball itself, but because of what it implied.

“As long as we get to test our strength, I don’t mind,” Diana said, twirling her whip.

“And if you promise to… fuck me inside afterward… I don’t mind either,” Lithia added shamelessly.

The others chimed in with their own conditions and excitement, but the consensus was clear—they were ready.

Ash finished writing. The words on the codex glowed, and in the next instant, they vanished.

“And so, all members of the Ineffable Pantheon—and Vane—entered the Mark of the Weaver alongside the Primavus Origin.”

The moment they left, the final two structures of the Lower Dimension imploded.

KKKKRA-BOOOOOM!!!!!