Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 224: 100 Years of The Primavus

Ash spent a hundred years in his inner cosmos, though only a year had passed in the outside world.

During that time, he observed his Primavus race closely.

Before this, it’s only true members were the Valkyries and those already within his circle.

These were beings who had belonged to other races before joining Primavus, carrying with them long-lived experiences and ingrained habits that weren’t entirely in line with the Primavus way.

Still, this wasn’t a drawback, as the race could adapt with ease.

However, he was curious to see what a Primavus, born directly from his blood and existing solely as a Primavus, would be like as a race.

Together with Elysia, who had remained in her true form the entire time, sat suspended in the vast heart of the cosmos, watching worlds unfurl below like living works of art.

From the countless multicolored threads of blood that stretched across galaxies and worlds, the first true Primavus emerged—not as newborns wailing for sustenance, but as radiant orbs of pure potential, taking on childlike forms within moments of their arrival.

They came into existence without rank, cultivation base, or any defining traits—no power system, just raw, untamed energy thrumming beneath alabaster skin flecked with imprisoned starlight, six wings spreading instinctively, and horns curling in paradoxical spirals that reached both inward and outward.

Over ten years, the children—looking no older than toddlers yet moving with uncanny grace—played games that defied the very laws of reality.

One plucked a star from the sky like a toy, cradling a tiny sun in small hands that neither burned nor dimmed, laughing as it blinked in and out of existence.

Another spoke a word that summoned a mountain, then unsaid it, watching the peak dissolve into butterflies of pure void before reforming into the same mountain, taller and upside down.

They then began to battle… yet not with blows but with paradoxes.

“You are hurt” made wounds appear and vanish at once; “This is mine” turned a shared fruit into endless copies that were still one.

There was no pain, no fear—only wonder, as they broke and remade the world, limitless possibility unfolding without consequence.

A collective of twenty years had passed as Ash and Elysia watched the Primavus now resembling young children, they gathered in loose circles on floating continents, inventing “games” that warped space and time.

One declared, “I am everywhere,” and split into countless versions that occupied the same spot—overlapping yet distinct, each experiencing different realities at once.

Another whispered, “Nothing is real,” and the ground beneath them became both solid and void, friends falling through yet standing firm, laughing as gravity obeyed and defied them simultaneously.

It was not long before they began to sense the laws of Ash’s cosmos faintly—through the connection had to the outside the faint feeling of the cultivation system could also be felt…

Yet, when they felt the feeling of this… They instinctively rejected it, deeming it as fixed power. For twenty years now they were beings who were humming with unbound essence that grew not by absorption but by sheer act of being.

Ten more years passed, bringing the first true Primavus to the age of thirty.

They grew into a more mature form—taller, more ethereal—and began shaping real societies, yet without hierarchy or rule.

Groups came together and dissolved in the same breath, cities conjured from thought lasting only as long as they were perceived.

Conflicts arose not from greed, but from curiosity and experimentation.

“What if we fight forever?”

That question sparked endless battles, wounds closing as quickly as they were made, warriors caught in cycles of dying and undying, victories that meant nothing.

They learned to wield emotions like tools—one child embodied “love” so fully it united a world in harmony, then turned to “hate” and shattered it into warring fragments, only for it to reform stronger.

Power surged without order, raw potential bending reality at will, breaking every “impossible” without effort.

By the time they were forty years old they could be considered young adults.

They were growing into graceful beings that were utterly terrifying in beauty. This was also around the time the civilization formalized their first system.

Yet, it was not cultivation, but it was deemed the Path of Paradoxical Becoming. It was something that held no ranks, no bottlenecks… more power came from the embrace of deeper contradictions.

To grow stronger, one has to be both limitless and limited.

To bring destruction, one must create at the same time.

To understand truth, one must also carry its opposite.

Each step was a paradox they chose for themselves, solved through sheer will—power surging and multiplying as they stacked impossibilities, with no ceiling, no end, only a deeper transformation.

After fifty years, they had grown more mature and radiant, beginning to encounter other Primavus across the galaxies.

And through it all, the inner cosmos began to adapt to them, with worlds shifting to match their whims—continents drifting upside down yet working flawlessly, and oceans of liquid starlight that somehow burned and healed at the same time.

Wars turned into strange games where armies won by losing and weapons ended up saving lives by taking them.

Their journey deepened, and unraveling ever greater contradictions sparked phenomena beyond known laws—stars emerging from the death of others, and time flowing backward to hasten growth.

By the time sixty years passed, the civilization had long stopped ’aging’, with no one appearing older than twenty-five—they were timeless. Yet their desire for more never waned, and soon they began to challenge the cosmos itself.

They started ripping open holes to the ’outside’ voids, sealing them shut with nothing but thought.

At one point, Ash even let the outside Laws seep in, just to see how they’d respond. In the end, they simply twisted them into submission with paradoxes.

Their societies thrived in a kind of controlled chaos, where loyalty grew not from orders but from shared growth, and competition sparked endless evolution without spite.

All the while, Ash drifted unseen in the void, with only Elysia at his side.

Over time, the Primavus refined their paths, reaching a power level equal to, if not greater than, what the Cosmic Overlords could achieve with their Precepts.

They fully embodied the essence of the Ineffable Paradoxical Kin—both one and many, defined yet undefined, breaking the rules simply by existing within them.

Ash watched with quiet satisfaction, though he couldn’t tell if this way of becoming was something he could truly use in his own journey ahead—or if it could even last.

After a hundred years that somehow felt strangely short, he stood as Elysia shrank and settled onto his shoulder. “You know, the path to omnipotence is tricky…” she murmured, leaning against his head.

“It’s meant to be the power above all… but where does known power really end?”

It was a curious thought, because if the Primavus progression had taught anything over the past century, it was that they’d carved out a whole new route to strength—one that might push beyond the limits of the known system… or maybe fall short.

For now, no one could say.

But the biggest question remained…

If he one day reached omnipotence, would it just become another state of power, waiting to be surpassed?