Ten Lucky Draws: I Became OP

Chapter 639: Ash vs The Father (3)

Ahem, Ash here once again.

So, here’s a quick rundown on Battle Styles.

From my practically limitless knowledge, Battle Styles were developed by Nux Leander as a way to fight autonomously, without the need for conscious thought.

At the highest levels of mastery, they even allowed certain powers to activate purely on instinct.

I’ll be using his template as a starting point, haha, but we’re definitely going to take things far beyond that.

Now then, let’s get back to the show!

----

Ash’s lips curved into a faint smile.

With a single blink, he reached into the very foundation of Pantheos and created something new.

[Battle Style Created: The Imperfected Battle Art

Autonomous Imperfection: Your entire existence now moved according to your imperfected will. There is no delay between threat and response. You no longer needed to decide to attack — the action simply occurred because it had to.

Unseen Veil: The barrier of the Unseen is now permanently active. Any attack (Narrative, Mental, or Physical) directed at you will either be nullified or pass harmlessly through his body.

Absolute Precision: Every movement you make existed in a state of divine imperfection. There are no wasted motions, no openings, and no hesitation. You remain completely calm and laidback at all times.]

----

The moment the Battle Style settled into his being, Ash’s posture shifted ever so slightly. His shoulders relaxed, his breathing became even, and the faintest of tension that had lingered in his frame completely vanished.

In that moment, he looked just as he always did—only more so.

It wasn’t that he seemed detached, but his whole demeanor had shifted into something completely laid-back and relaxed.

Yet, even as he drifted in his thoughts, The Father stood motionless, unleashing relentless waves of narrative assaults.

Spears of pure Nonexistence, collapsing voids, and conceptual erasures rained down on Ash without pause.

Yet even before he had created his battle style, the power of the unseen ensured that none of them could ever touch him.

The Father’s brows furrowed deeper as he couldn’t understand just what he was witnessing. Well, it was more like he could not understand the things he could not see.

His silhouette grew visibly darker, as the pressure in the Primordial Expanse spiking to an oppressive degree.

For the first time, a trace of genuine tension could be felt from the primordial being. His voice came out lower, colder, and far more serious than before.

"...You... are truly an abomination..."

Since he couldn’t figure out why his attacks kept passing through Ash, he decided to try something new—he reached into the narrative again.

Then with a simple wave of his hand, he erased the very idea of "protection" from the scene in hopes of dismantling whatever was shielding Ash.

HUMMMM!!!!

Behind the Father, once again... thin, invisible pages of the novel being violently torn away. The narrative itself was being rewritten in real time, stripping away exactly what he wished.

Yet even after the concept was removed, the result remained the same.

The attacks continued to phase through Ash’s body as if he wasn’t truly there.

Some curved unnaturally at the last second, missing him entirely despite being aimed directly at his head and chest.

Others simply dissolved the moment they entered the space surrounding him.

Ash let out a quiet chuckle, his steps never slowing.

"Well, your time is up, buddy," he said, his tone carrying a clear note of mockery. "Though you didn’t really show me too much of anything... I must thank you for helping with my creation."

The Father’s silhouette trembled as he watched Ash move despite the narrative restrictions he had placed.

The Father’s voice came out low and strained.

"...How?"

He couldn’t comprehend it.

He’d erased any notion of fighting, defense, or resistance from the moment.

By all reasoning, Ash shouldn’t have been able to move, let alone step forward. Yet the figure kept walking toward him, as if the Father’s authority didn’t matter at all.

The realization made something inside the primordial being twist.

But despite the Father’s words, Ash simply took another step and continued to walk forward through the endless black of the Primordial Expanse.

His hands remained tucked inside the pockets of his baggy attire, his posture relaxed and unhurried.

He didn’t lift a finger or call forth any power.

He just kept walking, one step after another, like he was strolling down a calm street instead of moving straight through the core of Nonexistence.

And still.... the emptiness all around him burst into light.

HUMMMMMM!!!!

From the space surrounding his stride, torrents of pure white-gold divinity erupted in colossal, world-spanning waves.

From these surges of divine power, entire worlds formed, condensing into brilliant, radiant spheres before being launched like projectiles from invisible slingshots.

Each and every one of these worlds carried the purest essence of Existence itself, all propelled at unimaginable speeds to clash against the Father’s assaults.

WHOOOOSHHH!!!!!!

WHOOOOSHHH!!!!

At the same time, colossal blades of grey chaos and deep void-black energy manifested across the expanse.

They didn’t swing — they danced.

Thousands of swords moved on their own, slicing through spears of Nonexistence and conceptual erasures with terrifying precision.

Some of the blades split apart mid-flight, multiplying into millions of smaller edges that carved through the darkness like a storm of cutting light.

And seeing this.... The Father’s attacks only grew more desperate and more profound.

HUMMMM!!!!!!

He tapped into the deepest, most ancient layers of Nonexistence.

Using notions like the End of All, the Silence that Consumes Thought, and the State Before Creation took shape in the void.

But these weren’t just energy strikes—they were raw truths of erasure made tangible, aiming to unravel Ash at the core of his very being.

From the void, a colossal figure began to take form — a towering entity whose body was made of pure, soundless black.

This was the manifestation of The Silence That Consumes Thought.

It had no mouth, no eyes, only an endless, gaping void where a face should have been.

As it fully materialized, the very notion of sound began to die around it.

Explosions from Ash’s powers grew muffled.

The chaotic symphony of clashing energies dulled into eerie quiet as the creature’s presence devoured noise itself.

It reached forward with massive, formless hands, attempting to wrap its fingers around Ash and erase the very idea of his existence from the narrative.

At the same time, another figure rose from the darkness.

This one was far more grotesque — a writhing, ever-shifting mass of decaying ideas and forgotten essences.

Its body was composed of broken fragments of everything that had never come to be.

This was the embodiment of The End of All.

Wherever it went, things just stopped existing.

Not destroyed—just gone.

If not for them being in the Primordial Expanse....

Ideas would have come apart, mana would have faded away, and even the memory of what once had been there would have slowly disappeared.

It lunged toward Ash with countless shifting tendrils, each one carrying the weight of absolute finality.

And behind them, an even more terrifying presence began to form.

A vast, empty sphere of perfect nothingness expanded outward — The State Before Creation.

It was not just darkness or the void...

No, it was the complete absence of anything that could be defined.

Within its radius, even the notion of "existence" would cease to remain. The sphere moved slowly but inevitably toward Ash, seeking to return him to a state where he had never been.

HUMMMMMMMM!!!!!!

BOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!

The three colossal embodiments of Nonexistence descended upon Ash at once, their combined presence threatening to unmake everything in their path.

Yet Ash continued walking.

His body moved on its own.

When the hands of The Silence That Consumes Thought reached for him, his figure simply tilted a few inches to the side at the perfect angle, allowing the massive fingers to pass through empty space.

BOOOOOM!!!!!!!

At the same moment, rivers of golden divinity erupted from his body without any command, condensing into world-sized constructs that slammed into the creature’s form and tore through it with overwhelming force.

When The End of All lunged with its countless tendrils, Ash’s body stepped forward with absolute precision.

SHK!!!!

SHK!!!!

SHK!!!!

Then hundreds of thousands of swords made from pure chaos and void manifested around him, dancing through the air autonomously.

They sliced through the shifting tendrils with terrifying speed, while waves of quantum light bent probability itself, causing many of the attacks to simply miss their target entirely.

And as The State Before Creation expanded toward him, Ash’s Unseen Veil flared.

CLANGGG!!!!

CLANGGGG!!!!

The sphere of absolute nothingness passed straight through his body as if he wasn’t there, while at the same time, massive chains forged from Dark Matter and raw divinity erupted from the space around him, binding and dragging the sphere backward.

And through it all.... Ash simply kept walking with his hands in his pockets, his face calm and touched with faint amusement.

By now, his Battle Style had taken over completely, his powers moving on their own, reacting to every danger with wild creativity and unstoppable force.

The world itself seemed to sling forward with him.

The battle raged on an apocalyptic scale—entire concepts were born and annihilated in the space between heartbeats.

Ash stood before the Father, wearing the same easy smile and holding the same relaxed stance, watching as the Father’s silhouette began to crack.

And for the first time since the Father had came into being, the flawless darkness that had always hidden his true form started to flake away under the crushing weight of the moment.

But what emerged from beneath wasn’t some towering, awe-inspiring presence or a fearsome force to be reckoned with.

Instead, it was something unexpectedly delicate, something far more vulnerable than Ash could have imagined.

"What the fuck?"