Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 330: Ash vs The Sables

[A/N: Stratas will be explained in the next few Chapters, but for now, just remember they are the self-created conceptual powers of cultivators above the Transcendent Rank. While there are many ways to use them, in this Chapter you’ll only see concepts being channeled through them.]

—-

The moment the Sables sensed the surge of Erosence, the entire Domain felt their cultivation waver.

In that instant, their eyes fell on the man standing casually in the middle of the plaza, and waves of affection began to swell.

Even those stronger than Ash found themselves slowly succumbing to it. He had done this on purpose—as he wasn’t truly about to leave his wives in a den of wolves.

They might be weaker than others in the Domain for now, but that wouldn’t last. Ash could currently only step into the Dimensional Overlord rank, a limit that was on the verge of being broken.

But as he stood there, something strange occurred—a deep orange sigil began to glow beneath the Sable’s metal skin.

“ARGHHHH!!!!!”

All around, the Sables cried out in pain. The weakest collapsed instantly, while the strongest merely grimaced and returned to cultivation.

Ash let them be for a moment as he pulled his hands from his pockets.

He wasn’t surprised—after all, they were bound by an Oath. And though he had the ability to break such an Oath, along with other means that could help, it wouldn’t last long.

The beings who had set the Oath existed on a level far above his own.

Much like how he viewed the universe as layers of paper when he stepped into the Fourth Dimensional existence, the same concept applied upward—those stronger than him had access to layers of reality he could not yet reach, even with his absurd abilities.

“Copy up to the Peak of Infinite Weaver rank… and as the affection soars, keep copying until we’re at the very peak,” he instructed Elysia, who simply nodded and began her work.

HUMMMMMMMM!

In an instant, his rank shot up to the Peak of the Infinite Weaver, and his transcendent concepts, already at full strength, grew even more formidable.

The sables were jolted out of their cultivation once again.

This time, Ash had no intention of letting them return—and they weren’t about to let him keep interrupting.

They knew that if cultivation was halted for too long, far greater problems would arise.

With this change in rank, Ash’s existence stayed the same, since he was already nearly an Eight-Dimensional Being—but that didn’t really matter. It was still a step he needed to take at the end of it all.

CRACK!

Space split open right behind him as a hand reached out.

“Ignorant pest… you will bring about the death of us all,” a deep, grinding voice growled as the hand lunged for Ash.

But as the hand tried to seize him…

Reality itself bent in quiet defiance.

The massive metallic hand—closed around the exact space where Ash stood.

Yet the instant it should have made contact, contradiction triggered.

What should have been an unshakable grip turned into an utter impossibility. The fingers slipped straight through Ash’s body as if he were made of mist, grasping nothing but empty air.

Ash didn’t so much as blink or spare the man a glance.

Instead, he strolled forward at an easy, unhurried pace—like he was simply enjoying a walk through the plaza. His golden eyes, marked with nine black rings, swept over the sea of metallic giants with mild interest.

’Should I try using a new weapon? or Maybe I could…’

He thought lazily, footsteps echoing softly against the iron ground as he moved deeper into the domain, completely unbothered.

Behind him, the air split wider with a sharp, violent screech.

The massive figure stepped fully through the rift—easily twenty feet tall, his form built from metal darker and older than anything else around.

Thick plates of obsidian-black alloy armored his frame, molten orange lines pulsing across his chest like living veins. His narrow, glowing eye slits burned with a cold, ancient rage as they fixed on Ash’s back.

His gaze tightened, dangerously with intent, as Ash kept strolling forward without a glance, unfazed by him or the many thousands of Sable warriors now rising to their feet.

The blatant disrespect made something in the ancient Sable snap.

“Enough of this farce,” he growled, his voice like grinding tectonic plates that shook the plaza.

“Kill him. Now. Before the Patriarch and Matriarch’s cultivation is disturbed!”

The order rang through the domain like a war gong.

In an instant, every Sable nearby turned toward Ash.

HUMMMMM!!!!!

Their glowing eye slits blazed bright orange as Trans-concepts and Strata rippled across their metallic frames.

The air thundered with the screech of metal on metal as thousands of hulking figures charged forward.

As they moved, their solid metal bodies shifted into an array of weapons, some morphing into forms designed for attack, others for defense.

Feeling everyone had finally woken up, Ash smiled as he cracked his neck and began lightly hopping up and down.

Then as if responding to his thoughts, Primordia appeared directly from his being.

hum!

It hummed lightly as twirled around in the air, and then in the next moment it transformed from a Katana into a Chain.

It was a pure white chain with black lines on it.

hum!

hum!

“Hehe, I may or may not have upgraded her a bit.” Creara said with a giggle. He had previously been curious about weapons with sentience… So, she as Wantlessness did it for him.

Though it was not yet complete as it required something else.

Ash grabbed the chain without even appraising it or anything else.

BOOOM!!!!

BOOOOM!!!!

BOOOOM!!!!!!!

In that moment Sable after Sable launched themselves at him as the plaza erupted into a storm of metal and fury.

Ash’s smile widened as he flipped through the air, effortlessly dodging the barrage of metal arrows, pikes, and spears—each one infused with trans-concepts.

Mid-spin, he gave his wrist a single flick, testing the weight, balance, and feel of the pure white chain traced with faint black lines.

Sensing his intent, Primordia thrummed in his grip, almost playful. By the time he leveled out, a towering ten-foot Sable stood before him.

He swung an arm that had become a molten hammer the size of a boulder, its head blazing with Moltenanance—the essence of all melting and structural dissolution.

The air around it distorted, turning solid iron into liquid slag before the swing even landed.

Ash grinned, sidestepped once more, and let the chain lash out like a serpent.

CLINK!

The links wrapped around the Sable’s forearm, and in one swift motion, he gave a hard yank…

RIIIIIPPPP!!!!

“AGHHH, DAMN IT!” the Sable shouted as he felt his arm pulled back toward Ash along with the chain.

In one brutal motion, Ash had torn the Sable’s entire arm clean off at the shoulder, the chain slicing through layers of defense like they were nothing.

The severed limb hit the ground, still melting, splattering superheated metal across the plaza.

“Hmm, that wasn’t so bad,” Ash muttered, twirling the chain lazily.

“Though I was a bit stiff on the follow-through… gotta loosen my wrist a little.” Without pausing, he kept the chain in motion, and soon enough, the slaughter began in earnest as he lashed out wildly.

WHIP!!!!

CLINK!!!!!

|Sever|

The chain coiled around a hundred Sables at once, and the moment he triggered one of its talents, their very link to existence was severed.

With Primordia taking the form of a chain, it naturally gained abilities to match. Simple yet deadly, they could either bind foes in place or cut them off completely.

“Brother—flank!” one Sable barked, his voice like rusted gears straining through the pain.

“The chain’s the problem—don’t let it get behind us!”

In that instant, Ash’s chain whipped out again, snagging five more by the waist and slamming them together like metal dolls.

It was clear their words and plans meant nothing—these were just warm-ups for Ash.

One of them cried out through gritted teeth, “How is he… tearing through our defenses like they’re paper? How can one person—ARGH!”

Ash kept lashing out with the Chain as hundreds of Sables closed in around him.

From the left, three Early Hyperversals charged….

Spotting the first Hyperversals to arrive—those actually ranked above him—Ash grinned.

“Finally,” he muttered, snapping the Chain out again, not to restrain them, but to smash into the swarm of Sables around him.

BOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!

In a heartbeat, hundreds of Sables—Dimensional Overlords and Infinite Weavers alike—burst into a bloody mist.

Seeing this, the three Early Hyperversals sprang into action.

And the battlefield transformed in an instant.

The air grew heavy—not with mana or heat, but with the weight of their very existence.

They moved in flawless unison, their ninth-dimensional presence folding space like origami crafted from iron and will.

In that moment, Ash finally saw what beings beyond his existence truly looked like.

Thanks to the eyes of first dawn, the sight wasn’t blurred—but he could see them inhabiting multiple overlapping planes at once, every movement unfolding in nine directions simultaneously.

The first Hyperversal—a towering figure with a chest blazing in blinding white light—lifted both arms and activated his Strata.

Unlike Precepts or self-made powers, this required no proclamation or words.

It was sheer will, and in that instant, the space around Ash seemed to liquefy as the Sable unleashed Cruciblance.

An illusory crucible formed above them, and the moment it appeared, it began drawing in all the ambient essence—even the Erosence and Contradiction, the two concepts Ash had relied on so far.

This Sable didn’t wield Cruciblance just for melting; he used it for rebirth through consumption. Whatever it absorbed would be purified, only to return even stronger.

The others didn’t sit back and wait either.

The second Hyperversal shifted left, his form rippling as Moltenanance surged through him.

He drove both fists into the air like it was some invisible wall, and in that instant, the town didn’t just melt—everything within his mana sense lost its solidity.

The ground turned into a vast sea of molten, lava-like substance, while molten waterfalls poured from the sky.

Metal melted, reformed, melted again, erasing the very concept of “standing” across a billion-kilometer radius.

The third Hyperversal hung back, eye slits glowing with cold calculation, as he calmly raised one hand and triggered a talent.

|Molten Bind (Ascendant)|

Invisible chains of layered reality suddenly formed around Ash—not tangible, but conceptual—straining to limit the very flow of his existence across multiple layers.

And seeing all of this… no, feeling all of this.

For the first time in a long while, Ash almost felt as if the pressure was real.

The chain in his hand vibrated—Primordia humming at a higher pitch, almost eager, sensing the challenge.

He laughed—low, delighted.

“Now… we’re talking,” he said as his shirt dematerialized, revealing his torso and ever-shifting tattoos.

“Come… let us dance properly.”

And those words weren’t just for the three Hyperversals, but for everyone present—especially the one still standing at the crack in space.