Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 289: Weakness is Sinful

After leaving the Myriad Sect of Races, Ash kept true to his word and showed Aurora around the multiverse.

With the way their exploration had begun, Aurora had imagined “seeing the multiverse” would mean a few worlds, maybe a handful of realms. As it seemed like her father was only interested in visiting his women that had been waiting on the outside.

Yet Ash proved her imagination painfully wrong, because he didn’t take Aurora to “a few worlds.” He took her literally everywhere.

They first drifted through a crystal‑reef universe, where entire galaxies shimmered like bioluminescent coral. Leviathan‑sized star‑whales swam between nebulae, singing in frequencies.

The harmonics made Aurora smile instantly.

Creatures of every size, shape, and impossible anatomy joined the chorus. Their voices layered together in a cosmic symphony that would have shattered the minds of most beings.

But to Aurora, it was nothing but harmony.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the resonance wash over her. “Music… I’ll never get tired of this,” she murmured.

Ash glanced at her with a soft grin. “I figured you’d like this place. You are the Goddess of Musical Creation, after all.”

Aurora laughed lightly. “Daddy, maybe I should teach you a thing or two.”

Ash tilted his head as if she’d just said something outrageous. He chuckled and took her hand again.

“Ha, Rora… there’s nothing your father doesn’t know how to do.”

It wasn’t a lie—not exactly.

If a talent existed, he could grant it to himself. And if his daughter embodied musical creation itself… did she really think he hadn’t gained anything from that?

Well, she probably did. Not all of his intricacies were known after all.

—-

Their journey continued, each stop more surreal than the last. They went into a secret realm named, The Chrono‑Garden Realm, where time bloomed like flowers.

Petals drifted upward instead of down, each one showing a memory from a different time period.

A Gravity‑Inverted Galaxy, where planets orbited inside their suns. And one place that was…. pretty important to one of Ash’s previous lives.

They went to the home of the Dragon of Absolute Endings, and it was nothing more than a silent void waiting to end anything.

Ash honestly brought her here just see what she would do. He didn’t say anything once they came and he didn’t need to.

Aurora frowned instantly at the silence; it wasn’t something that bugged her truly as some of her mothers had dead silent universes.

However, these were not her mothers’ universes… so with a thought her Song of Birth activated.

She sung a few simple words… and with her voice alone she brought the realm to life. It was no longer a realm of endings… but one with endless colors and motion.

When they finished, she was honestly satisfied but it was something that caught her eye multiple times as they’d been traveling.

Banners.

Floating in the void.

Etched into moons.

Carved into the rings of gas giants.

Projected across the sky of entire civilizations.

The Originat

Their clan’s emblem appeared in every surviving universe and realm. Those not destroyed by the Originat had been… converted.

And the banners?

They were pure decoration at this point.

At first, she thought it was coincidence. Then she saw it again. And again.

A banner draped over an entire universe. A banner woven into the auroras of a frozen world. A banner displayed proudly by a megacity spanning multiple planets.

Aurora folded her arms, staring at yet another Originat emblem blazing across the skyline.

“So basically… we own ninety percent of the outside multiverse.”

“Uhh, somewhere close… maybe more,” Ash said casually. “Nobody’s counting anyway.”

She snorted. “Sureeeee.”

But the truth was undeniable.

Everywhere they went, the multiverse talked of the Originat—respectfully, fearfully, or reverently.

And Aurora, for the first time, understood the scale of the legacy she’d been born into.

—

Eventually, Ash brought her to a quiet, empty expanse. Universe 8. A realm on the verge of collapse—not from natural causes, but from defiance.

Waiting there was Vaeloria.

She stood tall, clad in a flowing white‑and‑silver battle gown reinforced with elegant armor plates.

Her long white hair drifted even with no wind and despite the condition of the universe behind her, she looked pristine.

She looked to be exactly who she was….

The Sword‑Maiden, that’s sculpted from both beauty and danger in equal measure.

Aurora’s breath hitched.

Even among her mothers, Vaeloria had always been… different. She was hard to read…. Sometimes warm and teasing like the others, sometimes cold enough to freeze a star.

But right now?

She was terrifying.

Terrifying in a way that made reality itself seem unworthy to stand near her.

Vaeloria greeted Ash with a simple nod, then turned her gaze toward the collapsing expanse.

“They refused,” she said.

Aurora frowned. “Refused what?”

“To acknowledge the Originat Clan,” Ash replied with a yawn. “Their Patriarch is a Conceptual Existence, so they thought that made them special.”

That was the truth of the top universes—aside from the First, the others were ruled by beings who barely cared for their clans’ survival.

It was like having power without responsibility….

…. Authority without presence.

And Universe 8 was no exception.

It was ruled by Oblivion, yet he was nowhere to be found.

Aurora blinked. “And… that means?”

Vaeloria drew her sword, smiling as her gaze locked onto Aurora’s.

HUM!

The blade resonated—no, sang—with a frequency that made Aurora’s bones vibrate.

Vaeloria’s sword was unlike any other.

It was created through the Resource Fountain, it embodied her Truth, amplifying every strike the way Ash’s Primordia amplified his.

Vaeloria lifted it effortlessly with one hand.

“Watch closely, Aurora,” she said. “This is the fate of those who are weak. Weakness, my daughter… is the greatest sin.”

|Maiden’s Truth|

SHK!

She swung.

Just once.

A single, elegant arc.

And the universe split.

Not metaphorically. Not symbolically.

The cosmos itself peeled apart like fragile parchment—galaxies unraveling into threads of light, stars dissolving into dust, the very laws of it folding inward as if kneeling before her.

Aurora’s mouth fell open. “She… she just—”

“Destroyed a universe,” Ash finished calmly. “Yes.”

Vaeloria sheathed her sword with the same ease someone might close a book.

“Defiance is admirable,” she said, “but meaningless if you lack the strength to uphold it.”

She turned to Aurora, her expression softening by a fraction.

“You’ll understand more as you grow. But remember this—nothing invites ruin faster than weakness.”

For a moment, her composed façade cracked—not from fear, but from surprise—as Ash appeared beside her and grabbed her ass with a teasing grin.

Vaeloria shot him a sharp look, elbowing him lightly in return before vanishing in a ripple of light.

Ash laughed.

“Haha, alright, Rora… let’s go light some candles.”