Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 229: The Eternal Observation Spires

The Eternal Observation Spires—towering crystalline obelisks drifting in calm, orderly clusters high above the main pavilion—each housed a hidden space with plush thrones hewn from ancient stone, veiled in flowing auroras that hushed sound and shielded prying gazes.

The air carried the steady weight of the Lower Dimension’s real authority.

Eternal Patriarchs and Matriarchs lounged with an air of effortless authority, while Sect Leaders from distant universes savored nectar that could twist memories.

Progenitors and their entourages exchanged glances heavy with centuries of grudges and alliances.

At the center, the massive holographic Veil of Shared Visions rippled in the void, its shifting images spilling light across the gathering as gasps and murmurs echoed through the towering spires like far-off thunder.

The moment Archie and Layla stepped through shimmering ripples in the air, the lively scene froze for a heartbeat—then erupted into sly smiles and quick-witted greetings.

“Oh, look who finally decided to crawl out of hiding,” drawled the Progenitor of Void Serpents—a slender woman cloaked in living shadows, scales shifting and writhing around her, eyes as dark and endless as the abyss.

“The Vossmere recluses, at long last. Still fleeing from my little pets, are you?”

Beside her stood the Progenitor of Eternal Frost Giants—a towering figure of crystalline ice carved with glacial runes, each breath spilling into endless blizzards—letting out a deep laugh that made the surrounding spires tremble.

“Or maybe it’s my avalanches? You vanish for ages, leaving your son to fend for himself, yet somehow always drift back when the Convergence comes around.”

Layla’s smile was razor-sharp, her aura unfurling—black-gold essence threading through the void, bending nearby laws into perfect accord with effortless grace.

Archie only chuckled, his presence deepening the shadows until they bowed in silent recognition.

“Hiding? Does it look like it?” Layla answered coolly, power rolling off her in waves that made lesser envoys blanch.

“We choose our company—unlike some who chase tails across voids or lock themselves in ice ages out of sheer boredom.”

“And our son… well, if you’ve got him, you’d better start worrying about your own damn selves.”

Archie spoke, flexing with an easy confidence—his mana sense unfurling to envelop half a spire, concepts and laws bowing to his will like trained hounds.

The Void Serpent Progenitor’s scales rasped in irritation, while the Frost Giant’s swirling blizzards faltered and broke apart.

By now, it was clear these four shared a long and tangled histories—one that had set the two Vossmeres at odds with the Progenitors born in the 42nd Cycle.

“I can’t believe you’re still playing neutral, Vossmere,” a Sect Leader teased. “Your so‑called ’auctions’ bankroll half the wars you claim to avoid.”

“And your wars bankroll our collections,” Archie shot back with a grin, prompting laughter that rang off the crystalline walls.

Below, visions continued blooming—prodigies projecting breakthroughs in tangible splendor, laws manifesting for all to study.

The Dragon Representative, a weathered elder with scales and wings cracked like shattered storms, leaned toward Seraphiel, his voice a deep rumble.

“That boy is openly flirting with your Scion, Phoenix Progenitor. The Dragon Progenitor won’t be pleased about Aurelia entertaining some unknown upstart—especially one wielding flame so similar to yours.”

Seraphiel, glowing with eternal fire, wings of rebirth’s living flame folded in regal poise, dual-colored eyes blazing like supernovas, regarded him with calm detachment.

Before she could respond, another Progenitor—the grinning Progenitor of the Jester—let out a chuckle.

“Maybe the Phoenix Progenitor’s been hanging around. That kid’s got your fire in his veins—same kind of traits, just with horns…”

Laughter rolled through the crowd—until it stopped cold.

FWOOM!

Seraphiel’s eyes flared.

In an instant, phoenix flames erupted, swallowing the Dragon Rep and jester in a blaze that twisted rebirth into ruin. They burned to ash, their silent screams drifting away as harmless sparks.

The spires fell silent.

The platform hummed as its mechanisms worked, reassembling the Dragon Rep in a flash of Rulings, each scale snapping neatly into place. He came back pale, lips pressed thin, eyes downcast—quiet, tense, and deferential.

Seraphiel’s flames dimmed to a faint glow, his voice colder than space.

“Dragons and bad jokes. Bring up my blood or that nonsense again, and even this puny ruling won’t save you.”

The air was thick, tension curling like smoke until every gaze fell to the floor. Ash’s zafu inched steadily toward the center.

Meanwhile, Seraphiel, along with Layla and Archie, couldn’t help but wonder what this guy would reveal. Especially Seraphiel—she was unlike most Progenitors present, or even those that existed at all.

The reason was simple—she was one of the first and also a true progenitor.

Any who came after the 21st cycle couldn’t hold a candle to her, nor could they easily recognize another progenitor the way she and a rare few other could.

’He’s changed… and it’s not just that he carries my full lineage!’ she thought, finding the whole thing absurd.

If she didn’t know that he was a progenitor himself… and a pure anomaly to everything she knew…

Hell, she’d probably thought she’d had some long-lost child too.

Yet she knew that wasn’t the case at all.

—-

Ash’s zafu drifted forward without a sound, guided by the pavilion’s steady mechanism—his turn coming in the quiet that followed, the mysterious prodigy now in the spotlight beneath millions of watchful eyes.

Before him, Aurelia and Elara had each taken their turn.

Elara was the first to rise, her zafu carrying her gracefully to the center of the pavilion bathed in a soft silver glow.

She closed her eyes, and her memory emerged in a gentle cascade of light—a tranquil vision of enlightenment shaped under Archie’s guidance.

In the projection, a younger Elara stood within a boundless training realm where the elements shifted from raging storms to peaceful gardens, Archie at her side, his presence unwavering, his voice calm yet full of depth.

“Adaptation isn’t just about changing to survive,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder as flames roared around them. “It’s about becoming exactly what the moment calls for—moving in perfect harmony with its demands.”

Elara’s form shifted effortlessly—first into a massive dragon with molten scales to endure inferno blasts; then a phoenix wreathed in rebirth flames, shedding her skin to rise renewed; next a world serpent winding through the entire realm, her body stretching in silent grace; and finally a crystalline guardian absorbing stellar bombardments, each facet scattering light in dazzling bursts.

Every transformation came without strain—enlightenment in motion, her smile widening with each change, aura glowing brighter as she embraced endless adaptability: form as fluid potential, strength in perfect harmony.

The vision ended with her standing complete—unchanged yet somehow elevated—Archie’s approving nod sealing the sense of balance.

Murmurs of admiration spread, prodigies acknowledging the graceful mastery of transformation.

Aurelia followed, her zafu gliding forward with playful ease, the stage erupting in bursts of multicolored flames that swayed like living auroras.

Her vision erupted in pure fantasia—a whirlwind of prismatic fire weaving impossible realities.

Flames of every color burst outward, merging into endless mirrored realms that overlapped in stunning chaos,

One a blazing phoenix world reborn in eternal cycles, another a void dragon swallowing stars only to breathe out new constellations, and yet another a strange realm where fire froze and ice burned, with flame-ice hybrid creatures spinning in joyful loops.

Illusions stacked upon illusions—mirrors reflecting mirrors without end—each revealing different Aurelias wielding flames that bent the rules of reality.

The fantasia rose into a massive crown of flames floating overhead—tilted and swaying, its opening wide like the Convergence itself, fire weaving greetings in every tongue ever spoken, worlds folding together in a dazzling, impossible dance.

Gasps rippled through the crowd—prodigies leaning in, captivated by the sheer wonder, the flames hanging in the air like fragments of dreams too bright to vanish.

Aurelia’s zafu slid back to her with a playful wink, the stage dimming as all eyes turned her way.

—–

As they watched the man seated at the center of it all, he was lost in thought about what he wanted to present.

Since the antics in Elysia, the event had taken on the air of a circus.

While many stayed true to its original purpose, others began mocking people’s achievements, competing to outshine each other with grand displays, and even presenting false visions that offered no real insight or clarity.

As Ash sat up here, he could hear everything. Yet, the man paid no attention to those who couldn’t even see the sky. Because the moment he did, there wouldn’t be much left to pay afterwards.

Then Ash had it—the most absurd idea imaginable.

Before him, the codex appeared, unseen by all—except the true progenitors, unless he decided to reveal it. With a sly smirk, he began to write.

“And so, the Primavus Origin goes on to reveal a vision that both has and hasn’t happened. He presents a glimpse of the Veil of Shared Visions shifting rapidly through many changes. In the end, each participant gains a moment of clarity that ultimately circles back to the Primavus Origin.”