Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP - Chapter 337: The Infinite Weavers - The Ending of All
Chapter 337: The Infinite Weavers – The Ending of All
Given how things had unfolded, with Sylvie cutting all ties to her past, the women now only needed to clear the Ancestors to win the race.
It sounded straightforward, but it was far from simple.
Just a day earlier, Isa had reached out to the Higher Realm—specifically her clan, the Infinite Weavers.
As usual, there was no reply, but the results always showed in time.
At the very heart of all 9,999 domains lay the Domain of the Infinite Weavers. To outsiders or those unfamiliar with the clan, their name might seem odd, as if it referred to a rank—but that wasn’t entirely the case.
There just weren’t many more titles to capture who they were.
This clan… they were the Weavers of Infinity.
Much like Wantlessness and other such transcendent concepts, the Infinite Weaver himself embodied the very concept of infinity. And…. he was a natural-born one, which meant he was an essential part of the Third Organism.
Being the ancestor of this clan meant that everyone else carried only fractions of infinity. But what exactly is a fraction of infinity?
Well…
—–
Deep within the shimmering core of the Infinite Tower, High Weaver, Basher drifted in absolute stillness.
His eyes were shut, dark lashes brushing against pale skin.
All around him, endless strands of Fate, Destiny, Karma, Causality, and every unseen force in existence swirled in a quiet, ceaseless storm.
For twenty-four hours straight, he’d been like this—searching through infinity, hunting for the single thread that might lead to the Ineffable Pantheon.
And all he found was… nothing.
Well, that was until ten hours ago.
The first ripple appeared when an entire domain just… disappeared…. then another… and another. It was clearly Ash’s doing, as his presence was blazing through the threads like a black flame of death.
Basher watched, both intrigued and cautious, as domain after domain crumbled in quick succession.
By the time Ash reached a place that he seemed to be visiting…. The Nosferatu Domain — he had already wiped 1,000 domains from existence — And in this event… Basher’s attention was fixed solely on him.
He tried to dig deeper, desperate to understand who this man really was.
The shock wasn’t just from Ash’s overwhelming power, but from his ’foolishness’. After all, the Higher Realm was full of prodigies and powerhouses, yet none would dare to openly defy the Oath.
But when Basher searched for answers, all he found was confusion.
Thousands of overlapping presences stared back at him all at once.
Some resembled Ash, while others looked like completely different beings wearing his face.
In some visions, he was a mortal boy on a dead world; in others, he was an entire universe that had never come into existence.
Every effort to focus on one truth sparked a storm of paradox so intense that Basher felt his own existence waver.
“!!!”
He pulled back just before the feedback loop could trap him forever.
But before he could even process what had happened, another wave slammed into him—this one from the Lust Domain.
Cultivation signatures were collapsing in real time, whole sections of the domain fading into darkness.
Intrigued, Basher shifted his gaze, and this time his sight was sharper than it had been with Ash.
Six women moved like living disasters through the domain: one etching runes into the sky, another twisting lust into murderous bloodlust, a third orchestrating a grotesque puppet show of body horror, and three more ripping through the remaining districts with ruthless precision.
He leaned in, straining to catch a glimpse of their fates—
But that turned out to be a mistake. Unlike Ash, his women never bothered shielding themselves from fate or anything else.
Not out of laziness, but because they had a sister who excelled at such things.
A lone figure appeared right before his eyes.
Long white-and-gold hair cascaded down, a golden blindfold hiding her gaze. She wore plain white-and-gold robes that somehow felt heavier than reality itself.
Celeste…. The Goddess of Fatality.
When she showed up, she stayed silent.
She just lifted one hand and shook her head. In that instant, all of Basher’s threads — every fate line, karmic strand, and scrying weave he’d spent the last twenty-four hours keeping together — broke apart at once.
His powers were rendered null.
Then she spoke, voice soft, absolute, and carrying the weight of every possible future collapsing into one.
|Divine Decree – Inevitance|
It was one of her Divine Decrees—a force that collapsed every possible future into one inevitable outcome.
What she declared as final was always fatal.
There were no exceptions… no loopholes…. no escape. Not unless one had a Decree just as powerful that was.
In the next instant, a vision struck Basher’s mind with ruthless clarity.
He saw all 9,999 domains vanishing at once—not in flames, but in flawless, silent erasure. The Lust Domain, the Nosferatu, and countless others simply ceased to exist.
Ash stood above the broken heart of the Infinite Tower, gripping the severed head of the Infinite Weaver by his black and blue hair.
Behind Ash stood six women — Sylvie, Rune, Madison, Seraphiel, Aeloris, and Katherine — their auras blazing with Ninth-Dimensional power as the last remnants of the Weaver clan evaporated into nothingness.
The vision cut out in an instant.
Basher’s eyes flew open.
For the first time in ages, the High Weaver looked rattled.
Without a second’s pause, he ripped through space in a streak of blue light, arriving before the sealed chambers of the Infinite Weaver and the Council of Ancestors.
His voice wavered with urgency as he slammed both palms against the crystalline doors.
“Open the gates!! The Ineffable Pantheon is coming — and they’re bringing the end of everything!”
RUMBLEEEEEE
The doors rumbled as they began to part almost instantly.
Without so much as lifting a finger, a blue light enveloped him and drew him into the Council of Ancestors.
For a moment, everything was a blur of flashing colors… then, before he realized it, he stood under the gaze of five hundred pairs of eyes.
Each one radiated the power of a Mid-Late Hyperversal Weaver, while the figure on the highest throne—impossible to clearly perceive—exuded the overwhelming presence of a Peak Hyperversal.
