Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 170: The Past of Vexar – The Eternal Arbiter of Truth

Vexar’s life is one that has many beginnings at many endings… but only one of his beginnings could be the true one. This dates back to the 3rd Cosmic Cycle, a point in time where the very Verse of Cultivation was just beginning to solidify.

Each new Cosmic Era introduces new races, new progenitors, and other things.

One race introduced during this cycle was the Nihilari, their progenitor was a being born from a ’Void-hole’. Not to be confused with a black hole, these are rare occurrences that cause the destruction of entire Cosmic systems.

It was important to note that the last Void Hole was during the birth of the Nihilari Progenitor at the very beginning of the Third Cycle, when there was nothing to destroy. Later, Vexar was born during this Cycle many generations down from the Progenitor as Nihilari reproduced from Death.

In places with strong death auras, Nihilari can emerge from seeds of essence formed between a male Nihilari and female Nihilari—not through physical union, but through the merging of their auras.

Vexar’s life wasn’t exactly easy, but he wouldn’t call it hard either—at least from his perspective. He grew up like any Nihilari, surrounded by death and nothing else. Death was both his mother and father, since his real parents were nonexistent.

Nihilari didn’t raise their children—Death did. Through it, they gained strength and knowledge, shattering the idea of awakenings, for a Nihilari’s power began the moment they first caused death.

Vexar’s bloodline allowed him, even at a young age, to be embraced by Death more than any other Nihilari. The more lives he took, the more his bloodline awakened, and the brighter he shone above the rest. By twenty, he had already ascended to the rank of Stellar Sovereign.

It was wild how it worked—his power felt almost limitless. He never needed to search for the next step forward; Death always revealed the way.

It was also at this age that he met his two lifelong friends—those who uncovered the secret of his bloodline through their own abilities: the Dragon of Eternity and the Eternal Arbiter of Truth.

These were two individuals who earned their titles not from the Records of Eternity, but through their own achievements and renown across the Cosmos. After meeting, the three were rarely apart, each reaching the height of power by the age of 1,000.

It was downright absurd—at only a thousand years old, they had already reached the rank of Cosmic Overlord. Yet no one could have guessed they’d remain at that level for the next four cycles.

Eventually, each of them hit a wall.

For Vexar, death no longer responded; the more lives he took, the deeper the silence became. The others found their own paths had reached dead ends too. As Cosmic Overlords, their power was enough to weather the change, but that was all.

They couldn’t save anyone else.

No matter how hard they tried, even sheltering others in their safe domains failed. When the Cosmic Cycle ended, any being born within it would perish if they weren’t at the proper rank.

The trio had never been closer. After losing everything the first time, they worked together to build something unshakable—a clan of Nihilari, Dragons, and Astrals meant to endure forever. Yet even that wasn’t enough; the clan never reached the height and too perished at the end of the fourth cycle.

Even through all this, they kept searching for ways to grow stronger. In the seventh cycle, Vexar grew weary of his own stagnation. He believed that only by truly experiencing death could he find what he sought, knowing he could return through regression—something he had never attempted.

That day, he spoke to the others.

“This isn’t goodbye,” he said with a smile to Kent, the Dragon of Eternity with ever-changing hair, and Enya, the Eternal Arbiter of Truth, with her three eyes and flowing purple hair

. “Of course not, fool,” Kent replied, punching his shoulder playfully. “We’ll keep searching for the path forward until you’re back.”

“Right, and who knows… maybe by then my eyes will have seen the truth of it all,” Enya teased, as they all tried to mask their sadness.

They knew this might be the last time they gathered. Each had their own reasons for being called away. For Vexar, it was death, and for the others, it wasn’t far behind.

Their Clan, once at the height of Arch Eternal, couldn’t withstand the changes—leaving behind only a few who survived.

This day marked the final time they would all stand together.

Afterward, Vexar faced regression after regression. Each time he clawed his way back to the rank of Cosmic Overlord, searching for something more, only to reach the same end. In some regressions, he still spoke with his friends, but over time, those moments became rarer and rarer.

Nothing ever changed; they still looked exactly as they had in their twenties. They’d reminisced about the old days countless times yet somehow remained stuck in place.

The last person Vexar had met was Enya, back in the 19th Cycle. She had withdrawn from civilization, pushing herself ever forward. At the time, Vexar was only a Calamity Warrior, weary of the same outcomes, and had turned his focus to seeking truth in all things.

But after that final meeting with Enya, he began to slip backward once more… which brings us to now.

—-

After a month of using the Law of Void nonstop, Vexar found himself before a door visible only to those with a tattoo. Hanging between two galaxies, it looked surprisingly plain—dark wood marked with faint silver runes, no handle or frame, just a simple rectangle of timber drifting in the endless black as if it had always been part of the void.

Vexar smiled as he entered, once he did.

Enya’s personal sanctuary unfolded around him like a dream made solid.

It was not a palace of grandeur, but a realm of quiet, infinite stillness—a vast garden suspended in a pocket of soft, pearlescent light that never quite touched the edges of sight. Endless fields of silver-white lilies stretched in every direction, their petals glowing faintly, releasing a scent that was both calming and faintly melancholic, like rain on forgotten stone.

Gentle streams of liquid starlight wound through the grass, flowing upward into the sky in lazy spirals before falling back as silent mist.

At the center rose a single ancient tree—its trunk pale as moonlight, branches spreading wide to form a canopy of translucent leaves that shimmered with every color that had ever existed yet never clashed.

The air was warm, weightless, carrying the distant sound of wind chimes made from crystal and memory.

Only a handful of people were present—her maids. Just three of them, graceful and otherworldly in flowing white robes that looked as if they were spun from light. They moved with quiet elegance, their faces hidden behind delicate silver veils, tending to lilies, trimming impossible branches, or standing silently in perfect stillness.

They spoke only when spoken to, never meeting a visitor’s gaze—faithful shadows in a place that required no protection.

Taking in the scenery, he felt a wave of nostalgia before stepping forward and finding himself in Enya’s private chambers. He had no qualms about intruding; confident she wouldn’t be engaged in anything inappropriate.

’This old woman has long lost those desires…’ He thought as his vision cleared showing the familiar Enya he’d always known and loved. She sat floating in the air in white robes as her long purple hair flowed touching the floors beneath.

Her three eyes were closed, until she felt a presence.

The moment her eyes opened and saw Vexar they widened.

“V-Vex,” she said in shock as she snapped her fingers and Vex appeared a few meters in front of her.

He shook his head seeing this as he sat down cross-legged.

“Missed me?” He said before he chuckled a bit, but before he could speak again.

“Bastard! I thought you were dead!” She exclaimed.