MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 945: Two Versus Five [Bonus - ]
Previously on MIGHT AS WELL BE OP...
"My son appears to have been defeated," Riven remarked from nearby, his gaze fixed on Lucian, who was now chatting animatedly with Aura Nova and his other companions, full of laughter and vitality despite the intense fight he'd just endured.
"You didn't really believe he stood a chance, did you?" Mitchelle inquired, her words more of a statement than a question. A broad grin lit up her features as she looked at Anthony. She was well aware of her son's formidable strength and his unbroken streak of victories, yet that didn't stop her from rooting for him with the fierce pride of a mother observing from the edges. Regardless of Anthony's growing might, he remained her boy above all else, a powerhouse only in second place.
Vespera paused briefly before responding with a soft smile, "I'm simply glad he's kept that same joyful and lively spirit from before," a tender maternal glow filling her heart and coursing through her as she uttered the words. No parent would wish to witness their offspring overtaken by relentless drive to outdo others, vanishing into fixation and strain.
Training rigorously and overcoming competitors was beneficial, but crossing that line could harm both spirit and form. Excessive drive might warp into something dark and ruinous, and she'd witnessed countless prodigies crumble beneath their own burdens far too often.
Michael remained quiet in his seat. Normally, he'd erupt in boisterous cheers and boasts about his little prodigy, flaunting Anthony's outrageous feats to all around, but today he stayed unusually subdued, his face pensive and grave. Mitchelle glanced his way, yet he was too immersed in reflection to catch her look. The source of his concern was straightforward: the sword skills displayed by Lucian and Anthony.
He couldn't deny it; both had thoroughly gripped his focus now.
Michael had long recognized Anthony's gift with the sword. Since the moment Anthony first gripped a weapon, an otherworldly quality had surrounded him, defying any rational account. Yet he hadn't realized it ran this profound, hadn't anticipated it climbing to such a daunting pinnacle.
'Our sword skills are roughly on the same level,' he mused inwardly, not comparing to Anthony, but to Lucian.
Deep inside, though, Michael grasped the reality.
Earlier, he'd trailed Lucian just a bit, a fact he loathed confessing inwardly, but his clash with the Sword Origin had elevated him to parity through a sudden insight. That revelation had advanced him sharply, honing his edge to an alarming sharpness.
Even so...
Gradually, his mind returned to Anthony.
He struggled to fathom the true depth of Anthony's mastery over the sword. It seemed endless, akin to peering into a vast sea without a discernible shore.
'Matching Klaus?' he pondered silently, though the idea struck him as absurd. Anthony was indeed powerful, extraordinarily so, but Klaus operated on a wholly different plane of strength and being. Klaus transcended even the zenith of the Galaxy.
If only Michael realized how off-base his assumptions were.
In raw might, Klaus outstripped Anthony, that's true.
Yet regarding unadulterated sword mastery, untainted grasp of the weapon's essence, Klaus flickered like a fading spark compared to Anthony's stellar blaze.
'Time to arrange a duel with my little powerhouse,' Michael decided, a subtle smirk nearly curving his mouth. Sparring with Anthony had been a longstanding aim, but the boy always evaded it, vanishing like mist whenever it arose. 'Once my bout with Klaus wraps up, I'll ensure we cross blades this round,' he resolved steadfastly. No more escapes for Anthony.
While Michael drifted in contemplation, Collins maintained his typical hush. His quiet demeanor conveyed volumes, his steady bearing more eloquent than speech. Few ever pierced the veil of his thoughts, save for Irene naturally. His gaze merely scanned the scene in stillness, reminiscent of an ancient tempest brewing just past the skyline.
Zachary's words finally pulled Michael from his reverie. "Our kids seem far mightier than we'd imagined," Zachary observed evenly. Though his features betrayed scant emotion, turmoil raged within him.
Indeed, the fight against the Angels had already revealed the younger crowd's outrageous gifts, but this display soared past mere extravagance.
It was outright freakish.
'Does even my boy wield such force?' he reflected, his thoughts turning to Aaaninja, stirring a subtle thrill of eagerness. After all, his offspring was the supreme Celestial talent alive, and by far the greatest among those gathered.
"Looks that way... who'd have guessed we'd sire such beasts," Riven answered, his stare lingering on Lucian. A subtle grin played on his lips as he went on, "The era when they'd rely on us for safeguarding is drawing to a close," his voice tinged with a bittersweet mix of sorrow, honor, and an odd emptiness.
"Soon we could be the ones seeking shelter. That old proverb about youth eclipsing age rings truer than ever," Nyxss chimed in from beside him with a subdued laugh.
"What a reversal," Vespera chimed softly, smiling gently.
They all grasped the harsh truth. As tensions mounted, could they alone repel an assault from the Twelve Winged Angels? The chasm between a Ten Winged and Eleven Winged Angel had chilled them already. The leap from Eleven to Twelve would doubtless loom even larger, maybe impossible to bridge.
And supposing they halted a Twelve Winged one, what of a mysterious Thirteen Winged variety? Or their proclaimed deity at the helm?
No doubt their individual strengths couldn't fend off such entities and their infinite hordes indefinitely.
Ahead, they might linger in support while the youth charged the forefront.
"Retirement calls, it seems," Rain's tone drifted from nearby. For thousands of years, he'd reigned as his world's mightiest warrior. Maybe Aura Nova was ready to claim that mantle and advance.
"Ready to resume our duel?" Klaus inquired steadily from the side. He couldn't indulge in nostalgia like the others. His daughter hadn't joined the matches, and besides, his overwhelming prowess made her overtaking him anytime soon unlikely.
All agreed with nods, their attention snapping back to the display. They knew Aaaninja's turn loomed next. The only unknown was his adversary.
At that, the screen ignited once more, digits racing wildly. Moments later, they halted on two radiant figures.
Two against Five.
Silently, Aaaninja stood. As number two, he launched from his perch, plummeting through the vapors like a streaking meteor. Kingsley, his rival, had meditated with shut eyes throughout. His amber gaze flashed wide, and wordlessly, he ascended then plunged earthward.
Both touched down with precise, restrained steps, positioned several paces apart. Chatter wasn't their style, but it wasn't needed. Their strikes would communicate now.
Aaaninja kept his eyes unveiled, gleaming subtly as if he'd already foreseen the bout's conclusion prior to its start.
"Begin," Klaus boomed from overhead, swiftly relocating himself and the group into his personal realms, clear of the havoc these fighters were set to unleash.