Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 320: Sin Resonance – Karmic Tribulation

Seeing that Ash truly seemed to want to see the Record, Lucy smirked and summoned it.

Yet, as she did this a thought crossed her mind.

’I bet such a powerful man… is quite the looker~ Wouldn’t it be great if I added him to the collection?’

Despite her Affection being 99%, her train of thought was affected… Well, not entirely at least. By her being an Eternal Sin… and one much more talented than her peers. Such feelings were nothing but fuel to her power.

Literally.

In front of them a black and red book appeared. And despite the power it displayed, and the aura it gave off it looked withered with only a dead rose on the cover.

Seeing this book Ash, appraised it… along with Lucy.

[Lucy Ravelle

Age – 53 Cycles

Rank – Peak Transcendent

Race – Eternal Sin (Eternal Sin Bloodline of All-Sin (Transcendent))

Talents – Sin Resonance (Transcendent), Eternal Reckoning (Paragon), Eternal Propagation (Paragon), Sinful Resilience (Paragon)

Trans-Concepts – Corruptance 100%, Reckonance 100%, Incarnace 75%

Aspects – Records of Eternity

Remarks – The Herald of Sins, born with the Eternal Sin Bloodline of All‑Sin, she rose through the ranks with a speed and inevitability that made her seem less like a cultivator and more like a cosmic decree.

Before being sealed, Lucy was on the verge of ascending into the Middle Dimension, but her ascent was halted.

During her sealing, the balance of the Third Dimension shifted. A new faction—rose to prominence, filling the void she left behind.

Now freed from her seal, Lucy seeks to reclaim absolute rulership of the third dimension, before ascension]

—

[Records of Eternity – An archive that observes, judges, and ultimately claims all who fall under its influence. More than a simple aspect, the Records function as a metaphysical ledger capable of rewriting fate itself.

Bestows titles, external powers, and unique abilities upon anyone recorded. Every bestowed boon deepens the recipient’s assimilation, binding their essence to the Records and tightening the user’s control over them.

Records all sins, transgressions, and karmic stains of every person ever inscribed.

When the Records judge an individual, the karmic burden they carry is enforced upon them as tribulation—a punishment shaped by their own misdeeds, magnified through the Records’ authority.]

—-

“This is no—”

As Ash went to speak, he was cut off by Lucy as she activated her Talent… along with a Transconcept…

|Sin Resonance| |Reckonance|

HUUMMMMM!

In that moment the book glowed with a deep, blood-red light before it surged with raw mana… and sins.

The book flipped open violently, pages whipping as a single crimson thread shot out and connected straight to Ash’s chest.

“Ash… Originat, the progenitor of Primavus…” Lucy said as she began to walk around him in a slow circle, her hand tracing down his chest and along his neck, nails dragging lightly across his skin.

“I must thank you for providing me such a powerful race back when I was sealed…” She smiled, voice dripping with honeyed venom. “It will help me tremendously in killing some false rulers.”

The moment her words finished, the thread pulsed.

Ash’s golden eyes widened for a fraction of a second—then a slow, gleeful smile spread across his face.

The Karmic Tribulation hit him like a tidal wave of his own making.

It wasn’t pain in the traditional sense.

It was memory sharpened into a blade, reflection twisted into punishment, and every consequence he had ever ignored returning with a vengeance.

Each moment replayed not as a distant recollection, but as if he were living it again—only now, he felt it from every angle. His victims’ terror. Their despair. Their final, fading thoughts.

Every sin he had committed while bearing a title.

Every life he had ended.

Every desire he had indulged.

Every world he had shattered.

All of it surged through him at once, vivid and merciless.

He stood once more in the Eternal Starlight Valley.

The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood.

He watched himself—an unstoppable force—tearing through countless races.

He saw the Ironfang Patriarch fall beneath his sword, felt the patriarch’s final flicker of unwillingness, and then the gleeful shift of his own attention as he turned toward the wolves who had followed their leader into battle.

The memory shifted.

He was on the World of Thal.

His body was no longer humanoid—he was the Cycle Terminus Dragon, wings blotting out the skies, scales reflecting the end of eras.

His roar split the sky, and entire floors of the world collapsed beneath the weight of his flames. Civilizations that had stood for many millennia—humans, beast‑kin, ancient elves—were reduced to ash in moments.

He felt the heat of his own fire.

He felt the screams swallowed by the endings.

He felt the utter indifference he had carried, the cold certainty that none of it mattered.

Then came the Nocturne Galaxy.

He watched stars wink out one by one as he tore through the system like a cosmic pinball, shattering everything the vampires had ever built. Their palaces, their ancestral worlds—gone in moments.

All because they had dared to touch what was his.

The vision shifted again.

This time, it wasn’t just his sins.

It was theirs.

Every companion he had ever taken under his wing.

Every war they waged in his name. Every universe they claimed.

Every life they extinguished. Every atrocity committed because they followed him, believed in him, or simply wanted to impress him.

He was the catalyst.

Every ripple of destruction traced back to the moment he had pulled them into his orbit.

Then the lust came.

Not as memory— but as a tidal wave.

Every wife he had ever taken. Every Valkyrie he had claimed.

Every lover across every world.

Even those in every incarnation across every cycle.

Because he was no longer a single life. He was all of them—every version, every echo, every self.

The nights blurred together—thousands of bodies, thousands of moans, thousands of worlds where he had taken what he desired without hesitation.

Pleasure, conquest, indulgence… all of it crashed over him faster and faster.

Yet Ash did not scream.

He did not kneel.

He did not break.

“Well, this is going to be quite a while…” he muttered.

A lounging chair materialized behind him, and he sat down as if settling in for a long performance.

Elysia appeared the next moment—her full form, radiant and shameless—seated on his lap with a bowl of pineapples.

She plucked a piece and pressed it to his lips.

“Here, have some, Master~”

Even as the weight of countless sins pressed down on him like the collapse of an entire Lower Dimension, his golden eyes—glowed with delight as he ate the fruit.

Because the truth was simple.

This tribulation could never affect Ash.

Sins? Judgment? Karmic backlash?

He was the Origin of All Races—the ever-becoming template from which every species, every bloodline, every concept of sin or virtue had emerged. With a glance, he could embody any race beyond its own limits.

With a thought, he could rewrite what “sin” even meant.

And more importantly—

He had never acted without a clear conscience.

In his eyes, these weren’t sins at all.

They were choices.

They were truths.

They were him.

And no cosmic ledger, no karmic tribunal, no divine archive could ever judge the one who stood above all of them.

Not to say he relished in doing such acts… but he had always done everything with a smile for a reason.

And in that moment, as the Karmic Tribulation tried to drown him in guilt and regret—

Ash laughed.

Not a strained laugh. Not a hysterical laugh. A relaxed, amused, genuine laugh.

Elysia and Creara lounged beside him, all three of them eating pineapples as if they were watching a mildly entertaining drama rather than the cosmic judgment of his entire existence.

Time in this place flowed differently—years for him, minutes outside. The Tribulation roared, memories crashed, sins unfolded like galaxies collapsing… and Ash simply enjoyed the show.

—-

Outside the Karmic Tribulation,

Lucy watched with barely contained anticipation.

She knew he was strong—possibly stronger than she had initially assumed.

But her Aspect, the Records of Eternity, had broken beings far ’mightier’ than him. So, she waited for the moment his mind cracked.

For the screams.

For the begging.

For the collapse.

Yet, even after another ten minutes passed.

He wasn’t screaming. He wasn’t kneeling. He wasn’t even sweating.

He simply stood there in his mask and suit, wearing the same relaxed smile he’d had when she activated her talent.

Her smile faded as a frown replaced it.

She closed her eyes and stepped inside the karmic realm.

What she saw made her freeze.

Ash sat comfortably in a conjured lounging chair, legs crossed, posture relaxed. Elysia sat on his lap, feeding him pineapples. Creara lounged beside them, both of them invisible to her but enjoying the show, nonetheless.

And Ash… Ash was watching his own sins like they were a masterpiece.

A cosmic mural of destruction, lust, conquest, and power— and he admired it with the fondness of an artist reviewing his finest work.

He turned toward her the moment she appeared, as if he had been expecting her.

“Come, come… let’s watch. It’ll be fun.”

Before she could react, Creara—gently placed her into a matching lounging chair beside them.

Ash offered her the bowl.

“Have some?”