Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 257: Fifty Years? – Infinite Calculations

“Old Man,” Nia greeted with a fond smile. “How’s it going?”

Thalion’s projection inclined his head slightly, his voice calm and precise, tinged with faint amusement.

“Nia… still causing multiversal migraines, I see. I’m functional—currently running calculations on seventeen concurrent branch timelines. And you?”

“Same as ever,” she said with a shrug. “Just wrapped up painting some noctis vampires, along with the Patriarch, Matriarch, and Princess of nocturne in red. Now I’ve somehow ended up in the middle of an Asura war council.”

The room fell into a tense silence—every gaze fixed on the projection, on Thalion’s calm, calculating figure suspended in the air as if it was his natural place.

In moments, formalities were done—his eyes swept the room once, quietly noting faces, auras, positions—before Nia leaned forward just a fraction.

“Old Man… figure out the fastest way to end this war.”

Thalion hesitated—a blink of time, but enough to catch.

“The fastest?” he repeated, voice dry.

“You do realize your style leans more toward… dramatic escalation rather than precise resolution.”

Nia grinned—sharp, intense, and unapologetic.

“Exactly. Quickest. Not cleanest. Not nicest. Quickest.”

Thalion let out a sound like a sigh from a machine that had no need to breathe, his eyes brightening as algorithmic rings whirled at impossible speeds.

“Very well. Computing.”

The projection shifted, holographic overlays unfolding in rapid layers—timelines, troop movements, mana currents, vulnerabilities, probability trees—all snapping into perfect focus in less than three heartbeats.

The allies stared—Ignis’s flames wavering in surprise, Umbra’s shadows winding tighter, Thunderforge’s lightning veins sparking unevenly—no one daring to break the silence.

Before Tylor, Sandra, or anyone else could respond to Nia, Thalion cut in.

“Fastest takedown: three minutes, seventeen seconds from now, with full Primavus branch deployment by you and Katherine.” He gestured, and the hologram zoomed in on key points.

“Zion’s holed up at the eastern rift command. His weak point? That shaky mind of his falls apart when hit with a rush of conflicting signals. Katherine, your blood-isolation and fierce devotion, combined with—uh, Shia, right?—her Euphoric Fracture Wave, will take him down in forty-two seconds flat.”

“Nyx: central forge nexus. Equilibrium power—her balance counters direct force. Weakness: micro-tears in spatial equilibrium when overloaded with unequal inputs…”

Sandra’s brows rose sharply as Thalion nailed her abilities with mechanical precision—Carnage Chain and Final Mark, the twin pillars of her precept. She leaned forward, voice low and edged with something colder than usual.

“Let’s say we believe this…” she said, eyes locked on the hologram. “The plan with Nyx isn’t near good enough. Calculate something that gives me enough time to make her feel true pain before death.”

The words landed like a dropped blade.

Even Nia arched a brow, surprise flickering through her obsessive calm.

’Uhh… was Mother always this way?’ she thought, glancing sideways at Sandra’s unyielding expression.

Thalion’s algorithmic-gold eyes opened wider—only a fraction, but enough to register genuine pause.

He turned his gaze to Nia questioningly.

Nia shrugged her shoulders, casual as ever.

“Old Man, she’s my mother… and your ’Majesty’s’ as well. So, just do what she says.”

Thalion let out a soft, almost human sigh from the projection as his rings began to spin faster.

“Adjusting for personal parameters. Stand by.”

The hologram shifted once more, fresh overlays unfurling in deep crimson and black, with Nyx’s location marked in pulsing equilibrium fields.

“New vector for Nyx: central forge nexus. Equilibrium mastery neutralizes direct force. Weakness: small spatial tears when overloaded with uneven inputs. For extended encounters, however…”

Thalion’s voice remained steady and detached, though the air seemed to grow heavier.

“Carnage Chain, use it point-blank—it will set off a chain reaction of kills through her marked guard. Each death feeds the chain, pulling in more blood. If your ’Final Mark’ lands at the same time—death starts instantly, bypassing any defense, healing, or balance shift.

She’ll feel every moment of it coming apart. Collapse in about four minutes, twelve seconds. Pain cranked to the max. No way out.”

Sandra’s lips curled slightly, a trace of satisfaction in her expression.

“Acceptable.”

Without missing a beat, Thalion resumed, scanning the map once again.

“The remaining operations are looking good. Lester and Victoria can be taken out at the same time, catching each heir off guard while they’re uh…. alone in their chambers.

The other allied forces are set—Ignis facing the fire-lords, Umbra taking on the shadow-weavers, Thunderforge clashing with the storm-forged, and Temporal battling the chronomancers.

With perfect coordination, the odds of success stood at 99.7%.”

He went on to outline a few backup plans, as in some timelines he foresaw Absence stirring up trouble too.

He paused, the spark fading from his eyes.

“Aftermath: War’s done. Narakava’s on top. Tyrannus leaders are gone. Minimal collateral, as long as we don’t push things further. Full sequence’s up.”

Nia’s smile crept wider—slow, fixated, exhilarated.

“Perfect.”

The room stayed frozen—every ally glancing between Nia, the fading hologram, and the now almost comically small war map. The silence stretched thin, brittle, until doubt began to crack through.

Ignis Drakon’s molten-gold feathers rustled with unease, the flames along them dimming. “So, leaving Princess Sandra out of this… you’re telling me three minutes?” he rumbled, his tone thick with doubt.

“We’ve bled for centuries, and even after your little demonstration, this still sounds absurd.”

Umbra Reven’s shadows tightened, purple eyes vacant. “We’ve lost entire universes, and you think a few minutes against Lester’s core fortress will change anything? You’re either bold… or completely delusional.”

Thunderforge’s crystal frame crackled, lightning veins stuttering with uneven sparks.

“And anyway… how can we gamble like this? We’re far from full strength—each of us is nursing wounds that could take decades to heal. Maybe in fifty years, we might just scrape together enough.”

Fateseer’s star-filled eyes wavered with caution.

“Timelines shift, but never clearly… we see possible roads to victory, but none come in mere minutes without a price.”

Tylor’s eyes, sharp and dotted with suspicion, locked on Nia as he folded his arms.

“Kid… your power’s real. But we’ve been through too much to bet everything on miracles.”

Shia stepped forward, ready to speak.

She knew from experience just how incredibly powerful not only Nia was, but all of the Originat. She’d seen them take down prodigies and even progenitors—those thought to stand at the very peak of this dimension.

“Look, I’m not saying that man is right… but their faction’s strength shouldn’t be underestimated. That’s part of why she’s not rushing to agree to become Narakava.”

Kaelor leaned in, his voice rough yet steady.

“She’s right… I barely know this niece of mine. But those Originats—they’re nothing to mess with.”

Nia ignored the doubt entirely, standing relaxed with wings half-spread, flames idly curling at the edges as the room discussed her.

Katherine leaned against the wall, arms crossed, then pushed off with a quiet chuckle.

“Alright, enough whining. I’ll handle the boring part.”

With a flick of her hand—blood-essence twisting into a tight spiral—she tore open a portal in the air.

Crimson light poured in, unveiling Universe 28.

Once called the Asura universe, it had evolved into the Primavus universe, where rose-gold galaxies blazed brilliantly and a personal galaxy gleamed at its heart.

From the portal stepped a striking woman—tall and elegant, her long silver-white hair streaked with crimson, her steady scarlet eyes glowing.

She wore flowing blood-essence armor that shimmered and rippled like liquid.

Simone Originat was Katherine’s closest aide, her trusted partner in every conquest, exuding calm and unwavering loyalty. Katherine smiled warmly.

“Simone, fetch the healing apples from the resource fountain—enough to supply a few civilizations.”

With a graceful bow, Simone stepped through the portal and returned moments later, carrying a floating crate of luminous crimson apples, each pulsing with pure vitality from the endless fountain.

Katherine plucked one and tossed it casually to Ignis. “Eat it or don’t… who cares.”

The phoenix paused before taking a bite, his molten feathers igniting as golden light sealed his wounds and his solar core roared back to life with fierce intensity.

One by one, the apples were shared—Umbra’s shadows grew deeper and steadier, Thunderforge’s crystal form pulsed with fresh energy, Temporal Echo’s shifting stilled into sharp focus, and Tylor’s crimson lightning veins burned brighter than ever.

Every injury was gone, and their strength not only returned but soared beyond what it had been before the war.

The room fell silent again—this time in awe.

Nia stepped forward, offering Shia and Sandra a warm, genuine smile as her wings folded gracefully.

“Hehe, maybe you’ll be the ones changing races after this.”

Sandra raised an eyebrow, while Shia’s fractured smile softened.

Nia glanced at Katherine—a look of shared, obsessive certainty—before turning back to the room.

“Let’s go show them the Originat style~”