MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 362

Chapter 362: Rampage
Anthony sensed the very fabric of air and space warping around him, a telltale sign of forced teleportation.

He did not resist.

In an instant, the world folded in on itself, and he was consumed by the void.

A heartbeat later, he rematerialized in a sudden burst of displaced energy.

Darkness enveloped him.

Absolute. Unyielding.

His gaze swept across the cavernous expanse before him.

The space stretched endlessly, an intricate labyrinth of spiraling tunnels.

Towering stone pillars, thick and immense, coiled toward the unseen ceiling, their presence both ominous and imposing as they bore the weight of the abyss above.

But darkness wasn’t the true threat.

The real danger lay in the energy saturating the air.

Chaos.

A volatile, ominous force, known to belong solely to the demons.

Its very presence here could mean only one thing: they were meant to face them.

And it made perfect sense.

The military, much like the Academy, was a global force, its singular purpose to hold back the demonic scourge by any means necessary.

It was only logical that their test would revolve around battle, battle against the one enemy they were sworn to fight.

But then came another problem…

Mana.

It was utterly absent.

Not even the faintest trace of impure mana lingered in the air.

Under normal circumstances, everyone could passively replenish the mana they expended, however minuscule the amount.

The stronger one’s foundation and talent, the faster their natural regeneration.

But here, the military had stripped that advantage away entirely.

There would be no passive recovery, only the mana stored within their cores would sustain them.

Once depleted, there would be no second chances.

Anthony’s gaze swept across the vast expanse.

Darkness pressed in from all sides, but to him, it was no different from daylight.

He could see, clearer than most.

And what he saw was staggering.

Demons.

They sprawled endlessly before him, an unbroken tide stretching into the abyss like an immense ant colony.

They were still, eerily patient, lying in wait.

The only reason they hadn’t attacked was simple: they didn’t know he was there.

The instant space had twisted to teleport him, Anthony had seized control over its flow, veiling his presence within its fabric.

He was confident in his strength, but not reckless.

After all, what if Colonel Vazeryth was like the Overseer from the Starborn Tournament?

Caution was the only choice.

‘Hmm… F- to B+ rank’

Anthony assessed the demons with a detached gaze.

Their ranks didn’t matter to him.

Their numbers didn’t either.

But—

A swarm of ants was different from a handful.

‘I wonder how many people can survive an endless wave of demons’

He thought

By the time he had finished analyzing the situation, mere seconds had ticked away from his thirty minute counter.

Logically, he could remain hidden within the folds of space until time ran out.

Survival, after all, was the only requirement, there was no mandate to reach a specific kill count.

But where was the thrill in that?

Anthony wasn’t just here to pass.

He was here for the fight.

A battle maniac?

Not quite.

But almost.

With a single thought, space twisted, and Anthony revealed himself.

The reaction was immediate.

The demons, sensing the sudden presence, snapped their heads toward him in eerie unison.

SHRIEK!

A deafening chorus erupted as countless throats unleashed a piercing cry.

The air trembled, sound waves crashing through the cavern like a violent storm.

Every demon in the abyssal expanse was alerted.

In a single second.

In a single moment.

In a single thought.

They charged.

A tidal wave of frenzied monstrosities, surging forward like ravenous beasts starved of slaughter.

“Since I did nothing but laze around for almost a year, I might as well stretch my muscles”

Anthony’s lips curled into a faint smile.

He shifted into a martial stance—feet planted firmly, shoulders squared, hands resting lightly at his waist.

His body exuded an effortless readiness, a coiled spring waiting to be unleashed.

Then, he drew power into his right fist.

No mana.

No intent.

No enhancement.

Just raw, unfiltered physical strength.

And then—he punched forward.

Then it happened.

A deafening boom erupted, shaking the entire cavern.

The sheer force of the punch sent shockwaves rippling outward, distorting the air like a tempest unleashed.

And as the shockwave met the incoming horde.

Death.

Demons were ripped apart, their bodies shredded like paper caught in a hurricane.

Black blood splattered the cavern walls, staining the earth, thickening the air with the stench of carnage.

Anthony watched, unfazed.

Though he was devoted to the way of the katana, there was another path he admired just as much.

The path of absolute martial arts.

One body. One weapon.

But death did nothing to halt the tide.

The demons surged forward, relentless and unyielding.

Left. Right. Above. Below. Front. Behind.

Every conceivable angle, every possible opening, they exploited them all.

The ground beneath Anthony’s feet shattered, unable to withstand the sheer force of his movement as he blurred forward.

Rampage.

He seized a demon by the skull, fingers digging in like an iron vice, and with a single motion, slammed it into the nearest wall.

The head burst on impact, reduced to a pulp of flesh and bone.

The wall itself exploded, fragments of stone erupting outward in a violent spray.

Another demon lunged at him from the side, teeth bared and claws outstretched.

Anthony didn’t flinch.

He didn’t even dodge.

With a single, fluid motion, he punched, his fist meeting the demon’s attack head-on.

Explosions of blood mist erupted as the demon’s body was pulverized by the sheer force.

Anthony blurred once more, his figure streaking through the cavern like a phantom.

At that moment, every part of his body became a weapon of death.

His fingers, his elbows, his knees, his hands, his toes, his palms, his feet.

Each strike, each movement, was a perfect instrument of destruction.

The cavern trembled beneath the weight of his assault.

The wind howled.

The air itself was torn asunder.

The pressure in the cavern intensified, suffocating everything within its reach.

Chaos lashed out at Anthony, trying to siphon his mana and weaken his mental energy.

But Anthony didn’t even acknowledge it.

It was futile.

To him, it was insignificant.

He possessed infinite mana, an unending well that would never run dry.

Mental attacks were ineffective against him, like raindrops against an unyielding mountain.

The demons’ attempts to corrupt him, to break his will, were no more than the desperate struggles of a child.

He met every weapon and elemental strike with his body, every fist, every blade, every burst of energy.

He didn’t dodge.

Each blow, each attack, was absorbed, redirected, and shattered beneath the weight of his strength.

The stone pillars crumbled beneath the onslaught.

The earth trembled, quaking under the weight of the chaos unfolding.

Black blood pooled across the cavern floor, staining the very ground.

But none of it touched Anthony.

He remained untouched, an immovable force amidst the storm.

The count of his kills climbed steadily.

Tens.

Hundreds.

Thousands.

This wasn’t power a D+ rank should possess.

This wasn’t even power a C+ rank should wield.

This wasn’t even power a B+ rank should hold.

And yet, it meant nothing to him.

To Anthony, the world was simple.

He saw a life.

He took a life.

If this were a game, he would have unlocked the Legendary Death Reaper Class by now, a title earned only through unparalleled carnage and unmatched destruction.

A thought slithered into Anthony’s mind.

‘Should I set a record by making a nigh endless wave end before the time runs out?’

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, the idea igniting a fire within him.

With a surge of resolve, he increased his pace, his movements became a blur, each strike more lethal, more efficient.

The demons seemed to vanish before his very eyes, their numbers dwindling with every heartbeat.

The cavern shook with the force of his assault, the air thick with the scent of blood and destruction.

Anthony was no longer just fighting to survive.

Now, he was fighting to obliterate, and set a record in the process.