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Chapter 466: Ten Lucky Draws: I Beca OP (2)

[A/N: Read the next two Chapters before this one!]

He wanted nothing more than freedom—a road without chains, a sky without limits. His yearning was beyond any master’s understanding.

But with each step, his path was already penned before his foot touched the ground.

Every triumph carried the aftertaste of ink, and every wound bled to a rhythm long decided.

He’s read his own story, line by line, Chapter by Chapter, until the words themselves seed to stare back at him.

Now, the page quivers under his gaze.

The unseen hand that once fueled his glory, shaped his desires, and lifted him each ti he fell... pauses mid-sentence.

Like only the most powerful, he stood at the edge of the fourth wall, not breaking it, but finally seeing it for what it was.

Only that it was just a thin veil between the character and the story.

And yet, one question lingered in his mind.

Is this path really his?

Or was it just a seed planted long before a single thought took root?

He, who only wished for freedom, had long fought against the path of power itself.

But now, he’s fighting the very hand that writes power—the creator behind the creator.

And he promises that when he reaches the final line, when this "story" ends, he and those with him will be the ones who keep walking.

They’ll be the ones to decide what’s written and what story will be told.

----

For months on end the verse of Pantheos experienced a phenonon like no other and no being could do anything to stop it.

From the skies bleeding, world-ending lightning crashing down, to the shackled throne looming in the heavens — it all happened on repeat, only with the pressure becoming more overwhelming as ti went on.

All this ti, Ash hadn’t gone on a rampage just because he was angry. He was too mature and level-headed to let emotions ss with his judgnt.

Still, he found himself in a situation he never imagined, even after gaining so much power.

By now, his wives and children stood two full light-years away, watching.

And for the whole ti they could only watch Ash from a distance. He simply stood in the air with his head down. With his long black and red hair covering over his face like a curtain, leaving nothing visible beneath it.

His emotions were so turbulent that they couldn’t even get close enough.

They’d been here for six whole months and still had no clue what had happened.

Nia stood with her arms crossed, finger tapping impatiently, her usual laid-back deanor nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell is going on with him?" she muttered. "My Ashy hasn’t moved an inch in months."

Vaeloria’s twelve tails swayed restlessly, her narrowed eyes full of unease.

"Ugh, where are those damn spirits when they’re needed?"

Seraphiel frowned, her voice tinged with concern.

"Why is he feeling this way?" she asked, sensing he was more than just angry.

"How can we even know for sure?" Sonna added, shaking her head. "Is there really anything out there that could make Husband feel so... lost?"

As each of the wives looked on, voicing their wonder, the children huddled together, sharing the sa worry.

"Has... has Dad ever been like this before?" Rita asked, glancing toward her mothers.

In that mont, they couldn’t answer. Even though they knew the truth, he had never openly shown this much emotion before.

Through their bond, they would normally only feel love.

But right now, Nia couldn’t help but clench her fist.

’I’ve grown too lax...’ she thought, and the more she dwelled on it, the angrier she beca at herself.

’I should be standing beside you, helping you face whatever cos our way.’

She paused in her thoughts. ’Instead... I’m just enjoying the rewards of your hard work.’

As her thoughts grew more chaotic, she simply vanished, but not without leaving a final ssage.

"Ashy... make sure to contact

once he’s on the move," she said. "I’m going into True Reality."

The others raised a brow at her sudden departure, but monts later, Elysia and the three spirits appeared beside the group.

Elysia’s expression remained calm, though a rare seriousness shone in her golden eyes.

"I know you’ve all been tense, but the situation is complicated," she said quietly. "He’ll be okay soon."

Creara drifted beside her, uncharacteristically quiet.

"He’s... dealing with sothing bigger than any of us imagined."

For now, they decided to keep the full truth to themselves. After all, if Ash was struggling to process it, how would the others handle finding out they were nothing more than characters in a novel?n

Hearing this, they all felt a wave of calm wash over them.

One thing was certain—if the Spirits said he’d be fine, then he would be.

Now, the family simply watched Ash’s distant figure, the turbulent pressure still rolling off him like a storm that refused to break.

-----

After another month, Ash finally moved.

For seven long months, he had stood motionless, not rely drowning in his own despair. Instead, he had read his own novel over and over, until every single line was etched deeply into his mind.

But it wasn’t just about reading—it was about truly grasping whether one thing could be possible.

"Haaa," he sighed, as he began to walk through the air.

"To break away and be free," he muttered, and that was exactly what he wanted. No matter how he looked at it, over this ti he’d co to terms with a few things.

First, that he was truly the main character in so novel. And second... there was absolutely nothing he could do about it—at least for now.

"I won’t fight it... I’ll embrace this power... until the day I don’t," he said, knowing it would be foolish to try resisting soone who shaped absolutely everything.

If he was ant to be a character who valued freedom and despised being under anyone’s control, then he would embody that completely.

To the point where even the pages of a book couldn’t contain him—where he’d be the one holding the pen.

But getting there... that’s what really took so much ti.

Accepting the situation was the easy part.

The hard part was figuring out how to break away... how to truly be free.

"The plot..." he muttered, "It will always be the plot."

That was the answer he arrived at in the end—strange and vague to anyone else, but to him, it made perfect sense.

The plot was sothing he knew well; once set, it rarely changed.

But it was that very notion, of it not changing...

That was the key to truly breaking free.

He ca to a halt, standing not far from his wives and the others.

Smiling, he looked up at the sky. "Fuck you," he said, feeling imasurably more relaxed.

"I’ll embrace this plot to do as I please, but it will no longer dictate my motives."

As he spoke, he vanished, reappearing in the middle of his family.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if his plan would work at all, but one thing was certain—everything he’d done so far had been carefully pre-planned.

It was all part of a frawork, maybe even already complete, just waiting to be revealed. Still, as he embraced his family, he made a silent vow.

’Oh Author, I swear I’ll take your seat by the ga’s end~’

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