MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 1024 - 0.01 Second

Faced with the oncoming solar assault, Irene did not waver. She launched herself into motion, becoming a blur as she broke away from the star she had been thrust into. Pulling her arm back like a taut bowstring and clenching her fist, she delivered a strike without holding back, her blue fist colliding directly with the sun.

The forces met with a cataclysmic shock. Irene’s punch shattered the sun entirely, unleashing a colossal wave of scorching crimson heat accompanied by a thunderous fiery detonation. As the wave surged outward, it warped and melted the very fabric of space, causing the vacuum to ripple violently under the intense pressure and heat.

The female Angel who had initiated the assault darted through the flames, her divine armor gleaming like a bolt of gold as she materialized before Irene. Her voice reverberated throughout the cosmos as she triggered a combat technique.

Faith Energy billowed from her form, flowing outward like molten radiance. Instantly, a massive golden hexagon manifested beneath Irene’s feet, pulsing with celestial runes. Before one could even blink, towering walls erupted from the hexagon’s edges, constructing a glowing prison designed to entrap Irene permanently.

Irene reacted instantly. Tapping into her technique once more, she flickered out of existence, narrowly evading the sealing trap before the walls could fully converge.

The moment she reappeared, another Angel was already waiting, her blade screaming toward Irene’s throat with world-rending speed. Irene was caught entirely off guard; the attack was too abrupt, as the attacker had predicted her arrival point with terrifying precision.

Stunned, Irene relied on her honed instincts and sixth sense. She twisted her body in a desperate attempt to bypass the lethal arc of the steel, but she was a fraction of a second too late. The edge sliced through her, accompanied by the sickening wet sound of parting flesh. Crimson blood sprayed into the void, drifting through the cosmic expanse like a scarlet mist.

Irene rematerialized in a different sector. She had avoided a mortal blow to her throat, but the evasion had come at the cost of her arm.

Blood droplets orbited the stump on her shoulder, hanging weightlessly in the vacuum. Yet, she remained unfazed. Her innate regenerative abilities and Vita Energy channeled into the wound, causing living tissue to rapidly knit itself back together.

Her expression remained void of emotion; at this stage, the sensation of pain had long since faded.

Though her face appeared calm, her mind was whirring, deconstructing the battle. She quickly grasped why the Angels had been able to surprise her.

Her teleportation ability was derived from a skill book, not a power she had mastered through her own internal cultivation. Consequently, every use left faint spatial distortions at both departure and arrival points—ripples the Angels could easily detect and anticipate.

Despite being a healer, her sharp tactical mind allowed her to think with the clarity of a veteran warrior. She continued to adjust her strategy even while staring into the abyss of defeat.

However, her teleportation skill was now a liability; the flaw was exposed, and the Angels had optimized their tactics accordingly.

As the realization set in, the Angels launched yet another assault, streaking through space with lethal velocity. Irene grit her teeth, attempting to resist, but it proved futile. Every technique she unveiled only caught them off guard once. By the second iteration, they had adjusted seamlessly, rendering her surprises useless.

Eventually, even her initial strikes failed to faze them. They operated under the assumption that Irene could pull any maneuver at any moment, treating every twitch of her body as a potential threat.

The Angels couldn't fathom how she commanded such a vast arsenal of abilities. The concept of skill books was alien to them; such things did not exist within the Divinora.

In truth, this concept was unknown to most in the Acarnis Galaxy as well. It was a unique path to strength found primarily on the Blue Planet and a few billion other worlds drifting within the Acarnis Galaxy.

Irene’s wounds mounted; she was carved in half from head to toe, severed at the waist, and nearly decapitated in rapid succession. She lost limbs more often than she could track, but each time, her Vita Energy flared with relentless persistence, mending her essence back to pristine condition.

She was battered, exhausted, and coated in sweat and gore. Her elegant crimson hair was now a disheveled mess drifting around her, and the grace she once possessed had evaporated. Her pristine white robe was ruined, stained crimson by her own life force.

She understood the reality of her situation; she was surviving only through desperate evasion. She could no longer match their pace, yet a fierce fire of resolve remained in her gaze.

Her thoughts strayed to her husband, her son, her daughter-in-law, and her grandson; she missed them dearly.

She could have fled earlier, but the Twelve-Winged Angel had locked down all forms of spatial displacement. Every exit had been sealed. Despite this, she allowed a grin to form on her face: if this was to be her final stand, she would drag them down with her.

As the Angels converged like predators, the pendant around Irene’s neck flickered, and she poured her mana into it.

Everything went still for exactly 0.01 seconds. The approaching Angels froze mid-strike. Their bodies, their consciousness, and even the circulation of their Faith Energy were locked in stasis by the artifact's overwhelming power.

Irene acted instantly. She blurred forward, crossing the distance with lethal precision during that split second. Her hands struck like spears, piercing the brains and hearts of ten Angels in one fluid sequence.

Every movement was optimized for death. When time resumed its flow, ten Angels slumped instantly, golden blood painting the battlefield as their lifeless forms drifted into the dark.

Their forces were reduced from twenty to nine.

The pendant on Irene’s neck shattered into dust, its one-time internal power fully expended.

The survivors pressed the attack immediately. One Angel swung a massive hammer toward Irene’s torso with ruinous intent, aiming to obliterate her completely to prevent any further trickery.

Irene watched the impending blow, her red eyes drifting shut. She accepted her demise with absolute serenity; yet, just as the hammer was about to crush her, a hand appeared in the void between her and the weapon.

The grip stopped the massive hammer as if it were a mere toy. Before the Angel could even react in shock, white lightning, burning with the fury of a dying star, tore through the sky.

The bolt vaporized the Angel instantly. The man who had emerged stood over six feet tall, sporting white hair and a matching beard. While he appeared to be in his forties, the immense power radiating from his frame suggested a much greater age.

Lightning danced around him as he pulled his wife into his arms with tender care.

Null Collins, the Lightning God of the Blue Planet, had arrived in the nick of time.