MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 929: False Reality Layer

Having firmly made her decision, Aura Nova shut her eyes and immediately turned her focus inward, tuning out the surrounding noise and conversation until they faded into nonexistence.

Inside her core, her mana began to boil with violent intensity. It did not explode in a destructive wave, nor did it spill out into the environment. Instead, the power thundered internally, folding and compressing itself as a fresh layer of reality took shape within her mind—a vast, expanding space like a primitive planet being birthed from the void.

Aura Nova materialized within this newly forged dimension, standing solitary under a vacant sky. In this realm, the passage of time was fundamentally altered; a mere second in the physical world was equivalent to a full year in this artificial reality. Within this accelerated pocket, she intended to eradicate one of her most obvious flaws: her proficiency in hand-to-hand combat and close-quarters engagement.

With a single thought, she manifested a man before her. He gripped a blade with lethal, practiced discipline. Aura Nova lunged without a moment’s pause, and the two collided instantly. The ring of steel on steel echoed as she commenced her training within this fabricated existence.

Her strategy was straightforward and brutally efficient.

Inside this false reality, she would face every conceivable type of martial artist and weapon master. She would fight spearmen, brawlers, swordsmen, duelists, and assassins. There would be no mana utilized. No special abilities. No Omniedit. No unique skills of any kind.

She relied only on raw speed, pure physical strength, and fundamental technique. She sought reflexes honed by endless repetition and battle experience forged through the fires of victory and defeat. She focused on combat instinct and intelligence.

Nothing more.

Once she had gathered these experiences—when her mind and body had been tempered by countless simulated lifetimes of war—she would integrate every fragment of that knowledge back into her conscious self. By doing so, she would permanently close another gap in her defenses.

Aura Nova was not the type of person to identify a weakness and simply allow it to remain.

Kingsley had pointed it out. Now, she would wipe it away.

She was uncertain how many decades or centuries of combat experience were possessed by Lucian, Anthony, and Aaaninja. However, it was irrelevant. She would bridge that distance regardless of the effort required.

Her actions were fundamentally insane by any standard. If others realized what she was achieving in that brief moment of silence, they would likely curse the heavens in a fit of envy and shock. She was effectively condensing what would take others several lifetimes into a few heartbeats.

The power of her Omniedit was simply that nonsensical.

Driven by the pressure of the moment, she had devised this method on the fly. To her, it was a certainty that Aaaninja, Lucian, or Anthony would target her vulnerabilities during their match. She flatly refused to be a helpless lamb led to the slaughter.

On the outside, the massive amount of mana Aura Nova was burning was palpable to everyone. The resulting pressure was thick and suffocating, enough to make even seasoned experts feel tense. Yet, no one spoke. Her face remained calm and her eyes stayed closed; it was obvious that whatever she was doing was of critical importance.

As for Kingsley, he had also closed his eyes.

He had entered his Sleep Training Mode, allowing his consciousness to drift into a disciplined state of its own. Nevertheless, he intended to watch the upcoming duel. He simply needed to verify a few things before cutting his Sleep Training short.

“It looks like the next bout will be between the three of us,” Anthony noted with a grin. The current mood was nearly identical to the Starborn Tournament—the three greatest talents of their generation standing against one another.

Aaaninja’s face split into a smile at Anthony’s remark. He could feel the excitement building in his chest.

“Why don’t the three of us just fight all at once?” Lucian proposed from the side. His steady smile remained, even as a fierce battle intent flickered in his dark eyes.

Neither Aaaninja nor Anthony gave him an answer.

Both understood that Lucian’s idea wouldn't be taken seriously. A system was already functioning, and breaking from it now would only cause unnecessary confusion.

“The youth of this generation certainly have a lot of energy to burn,” Klaus remarked as he watched the scene. His voice held a hint of sadness, as if unbidden memories of his own younger days had surfaced.

Amara looked toward her husband but remained silent, already aware of his thoughts.

“It seems it is finally time for our children,” Michael’s voice rang out. He looked toward Riven and Zachary. Beside him, Mitchelle turned her gaze toward Vespera and Nyxss. Just as the young men anticipated the fight, their parents felt a similar, quiet excitement.

Only Collins stayed composed, silently watching the hovering screen that displayed five shimmering numbers.

“Shall we place a bet?” Michael suddenly asked.

Klaus interrupted before anyone could reply. “I suggest we don’t turn this entertainment into something more serious.”

The others nodded, choosing practicality over greed. None of them wanted to risk their resources or treasures. A wager at their level would be ruinously expensive.

Seeing Klaus step in, Michael simply shook his head and dropped the subject. Every eye returned to the floating display. With a flick of his fingers, Klaus started it. The numbers began to cycle rapidly, jumping between one and five.

The fact that Kingsley and Aura Nova had already fought didn't mean they were exempt from being picked again. They could be chosen, just not against each other.

Eventually, the cycling slowed and halted, leaving only two numbers visible.

One versus three.

The moment the results appeared, several people looked toward the selected fighters.

Anthony was number one.

Lucian Darkheart was number three.

Anthony gave a soft smile before standing up with easy grace. He didn't rush; instead, he took a single step and plummeted downward. A sonic boom echoed as he pierced the clouds, landing moments later with his feet touching the rocky ground lightly.

Lucian Darkheart also smiled as he rose. ‘I finally get to face off against the protagonist,’ he thought to himself. In a blur of motion, he descended, landing just a few meters away from Anthony.

The two faced each other like master combatants. Their katanas were positioned at their left hips, their hands relaxed but prepared. They locked eyes, faint smiles masking their underlying battle intent.

“I realized we never actually crossed blades during the Starborn Tournament,” Anthony remarked casually. “I ended up fighting Aaaninja twice instead.”

“That’s true,” Lucian answered smoothly, “but we can finally trade blows now.”

Even though Anthony had the reputation of a protagonist, Lucian had no plans to hold back. He was well aware of how lethal Anthony was. To show restraint would be nothing but foolishness.

From above, a solitary command rang out across the field.

“Begin.”

For a fleeting moment, the world stood still, and then it exploded into chaos.