Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP - Chapter 459: We are Ineffable, We are the Originats (4)

Chapter 459: We are Ineffable, We are the Originats (4)

In just moments, all 18 Champions were either dead or on the brink of it.

Yet, four of them stood out as exceptions.

Fear emerged in the Fourth High Dimension, right in the heart of the Merchant’s Domain.

The domain was a lavish, flame-lit palace adrift in a pocket of warped space, its walls of ember-toned marble casting shifting orange light over every surface.

The Merchant lounged at a long obsidian table, her bronze skin glowing warmly as flames flickered and danced along her fingertips.

Beside her lounged The Thief, his gray hair messy, a stolen coin still spinning between his fingers even as four of his five lives had already been stripped away.

These two had been around for quite some time, ever since The Thief’s last death.

One thing he discovered that really infuriated him was that after each death, he didn’t simply respawn.

Instead, he was reborn, marked with a sigil that remained hidden until his fourth death—at which point it brought him straight here.

At first, his plan was to kill The Merchant, but that idea was tossed aside almost immediately. He quickly realized he was nothing more than a slave to the Merchant, bound to his will.

In the end, all he could do was chalk it up to the game.

The moment Fear materialized, he was frantic — his many-eyed humanoid form flickering erratically, with shadows leaking from cracks in his skin as he stumbled forward.

“It’s him— Ash Originat!” Fear rasped, voice cracking with raw terror.

“They are the Ineffable Pantheon! And they’re not playing the game— they’re breaking it!”

He continued ranting as he stumbled forward as his voice continued breaking.

The Merchant’s flaming hair flickered as she raised a brow, her tone dry.

“Calm yourself, Fear.” She said, “You’re acting like a mortal who just saw his own grave.”

The Thief caught the spinning coin and leaned back, smirking despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

“You’re late buddy… I’ve already bumped into two of them.” He revealed, but it wasn’t just the name of the faction he knew.

“They are Vaeloria, The Goddess of Swords… and Nia, The Goddess of Devouring Love.”

As he said this, he waved his and a projection orb materialized.

Like mentioned before each of these beings didn’t just have titles for show, but they all embodied their bubbling influence and existence.

Being the eighth champion, The Thief, well he was adept at stealing things. Usually, it was power or artifacts.

However, in his fights with them… he barely had any time to do anything besides… die. Though each time he died, he was able to steal fragments of information about them.

And this orb displayed that very fragmented, distorted data — stolen glimpses of Vaeloria’s sword prowess and Nia’s Devouring nature.

It was something The Merchant and him had already reviewed and still…

The information had been inscribed in the Language of Gods, rendering it utterly indecipherable to them.

The Merchant leaned back, her gaze shifting away from Fear.

“I can decipher this,” she stated calmly, “but I will need time.”

Fear’s eyes burned with intensity as he slammed his hands on the table.

“Decipher?! There is no deciphering!” he shouted. “Ash Originat has already pronounced our doom—we might as well await death’s arrival.”

Before The Merchant or The Thief could respond to his uncharacteristic outburst, the Domain trembled violently.

BOOOOM!

RUMBLEEE!!!!

The ember-toned walls split as floating flames danced erratically. As a deep, unsettling rumble rolled through the palace, as though reality itself strained under some invisible weight.

Beyond its walls, adrift in the void outside the High Dimension, Lucy, Morgana, and Rune materialized without warning.

The Merchant’s expression hardened as she peered through the walls.

“Well,” she said to the Thief, “it seems they’ve finally arrived…”

With a flick of her wrist, a wave of conceptual fire washed over Fear, snuffing out his consciousness in an instant.

She’d had enough of his constant muttering.

Yet even then, his lips kept moving like a broken record, repeating the same fragmented words again and again.

“In… ineffable… Ash Originat… countdown… death…”

The Merchant frowned, clearly annoyed.

“Useless!”

SNAP!

With a casual snap of her fingers, she annihilated him entirely — his many-eyed form disintegrating into ash that drifted across the floor.

Turning to the Thief, her voice was sharp, authoritative, and unyielding.

“Hold the three of them off,” she commanded, rising to her feet as she added, “Buy me time. I’ll find a way to save us both.”

The Thief flipped his coin one final time, catching it with a strained smile.

Even though he moved, even though her words were heard loud and clear, he knew with grim certainty that this woman would save no one but herself.

Yet the compulsion of her sigil left him no choice but to obey.

“No promises… but I’ll try to steal a few seconds,” he replied before vanishing in a ripple of shadow, reappearing between the three Ineffable women, daggers drawn and ready.

The moment he appeared; he didn’t truly attack. No, his plan was not to fight these monstrous women, but to do exactly what he said.

In less than a moment, he flicked his daggers in a rapid, intricate pattern — not to cut flesh, but to steal time itself.

SHING! SHING!

Instantly, tiny rifts bloomed around Lucy, Morgana, and Rune, attempting to pull them backward by a fraction of a moment, resetting their positions right before they had materialized.

For the briefest instant, it worked.

As the three women flickered, their forms blurring as time tried to rewind.

But Morgana simply smiled, her bronze skin glowing as she spoke a single word of the Language of Gods.

“The Idea of theft… is null.”

In that moment…. the aspect of theft died instantly.

The Thief’s daggers… and he himself lost power mid-motion and before the eyes of the three women he began fading as if he was paper on fire.

Morgana’s voice was soft, almost pitying.

“You know, stealing from us? That’s just rude.”

Lucy tilted her head, seven-colored eyes swirling with amusement.

“Aw, should we give him a participation trophy before we erase him?”

Rune raised her hand, runes already forming at her fingertips.

“You two… are truly too much together.” She said as turned her attention back to thief.

With a thought a rune appeared over his head, but in that same instant, his body erupted with a white blinding light.

HUMMMMMMM!!!!!!

And not just him, but the entire palace itself began to glow brightly.

—–

The Merchant, much like the Thief suspected, had never planned to save him.

Truth be told, she didn’t even enjoy being a champion.

It was simply something she did… for her mother. And now, as she gazed at her system’s interface, she muttered quietly.

“It’s time for me to go home…”

Using the remaining life of The Thief, his stolen influence, and the entire Fourth Dimension and Organism as collateral, she bought herself a one-time teleportation.

A single, iridescent sigil flared in front of her.

[Emergency Evacuation – True Reality Destination.]

Seeing this, the Merchant didn’t hesitate.

She stepped into the sigil as it activated with a silent flash.

In the span of a heartbeat, she was gone — ripped out of her domain and deposited somewhere deep within True Reality, far beyond the reach of the three Ineffable women.

—-

“Uh, did we just let her get away?” Lucy asked, tilting her head.

They stood in the empty void between beings. At this, Rune scoffed.

“No, we didn’t do anything,” she said as she began to fade. “YOU two did… and I’m not going to be part of the punishment.”