MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 483

Chapter 483: In Fate
On a distant planet shrouded in impenetrable darkness, chaos energy surged unchecked through the atmosphere.

Not a trace of mana, Spiritual Energy, or any other pure energy permeated this planet, only the tainted vitality of its inhabitants lingered: Demons, Abominations, and twisted manifestations of life, beasts, trees, grass, birds, rabbits, and spiders, corrupted beyond recognition.

No color dared to exist here; only an unrelenting void of absolute blackness prevailed.

In a forbidden zone, an immense mountain loomed, its jagged peak seemingly piercing the very fabric of the blackened sky, shrouded in swirling clouds and encircled by ancient rune formations.

Within the heart of the mountain, an entirely different space unfolded.

Towering walls rose with imposing grace, majestic pillars soared upward, while ornate chairs, intricate windows, elaborate ornaments, and vivid paintings adorned the space, a grand palace carved into the stone itself.

Beneath the palace, concealed within a hidden chamber, rested a pitch-black coffin inscribed with intricate demonic runes.

The air hung heavy with chaotic energy, thick and oppressive, as the coffin lay directly atop an elaborate, obsidian rune formation pulsating with dark power.

Inside the coffin, a demon lay motionless and unconscious, as if utterly detached from its own existence, entirely oblivious to the world around it.

Suddenly, the pitch-black demonic rune formation beneath the coffin flared with a maddening brilliance, pulsing with unnatural intensity.

Chaotic energy roared to life, while an unfamiliar, otherworldly force began to seep into existence within the hidden chamber, permeating every shadow and inch of the coffin’s surface.

A low vibration stirred, growing rapidly in strength. The chamber trembled violently, the tremors rippling upward as the palace above shuddered in response. Within moments, the entire mountain convulsed, unleashing a fierce earthquake.

Suddenly, the pitch-black sky and swirling clouds tore apart as an unknown force descended from the heavens, a blinding beam of radiant light and overwhelming energy that crashed violently upon the mountain.

With an ear-splitting explosion, the mountain fractured and crumbled, the palace obliterated in an instant as the beam struck the hidden chamber.

The chamber itself seemed to dissolve into nothingness, erased from existence.

With a thunderous shatter, the coffin splintered into fragments as the beam enveloped the demon inside.

The radiant column of energy lingered for but a single heartbeat before vanishing abruptly, as if it had never been.

From afar, the demons witnessed the beam and the cataclysmic spectacle, yet none dared to venture closer.

This was a domain forged and sealed by a Monarch’s formidable power. Even in the Monarch’s absence, the area remained impervious, barred by unbreakable enchantments that repelled any who approached.

Deep within the mountain, the demon’s motionless body inside the shattered coffin began to twitch, a faint sign of awakening stirring beneath the surface.

Suddenly, the twitching ceased. The demon’s eyelashes fluttered as its eyes snapped open, staring blankly into the void.

That vacant expression soon gave way to dawning confusion. Then, with a sharp, agonized cry, the demon clutched its head as a torrent of memories crashed violently into its mind.

Hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, even millennia, of memories flooded in all at once, overwhelming the fragile vessel of its consciousness with unbearable intensity.

The demon’s scream grew agonizing, echoing through the erased chamber as his mind teetered on the brink of shattering.

Blood trickled from his mouth and streamed from his eyes, yet the wounds swiftly sealed themselves, his passive healing ability relentlessly repairing the damage.

After an hour of tormenting cries, the screaming ceased, signaling the end of the relentless flood of memories. Slowly, the demon lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he sifted through the newly reclaimed fragments of his past.

Birth. Blood. Cultivation. Submission. Mission. Reincarnation.

“My name is Xezural”

The words escaped from the demon’s throat in a fractured, trembling voice, heavy with the weight of memories just reclaimed.

Then came the memory of battle, his confrontation with Sylmira, wielder of the Chakram of End.

Then, suddenly, a smile crept across the demon’s face, slowly twisting into a grin, then spiraling into a manic, unhinged laughter that echoed through the space like a storm unleashed.

“HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”

Xezural’s laughter rang out for a full minute, unrestrained and wild. There was no need for caution, no one could hear him here; the entire domain was sealed and silent.

“Finally. It worked. Now, I am no longer bound by their control”

Xezural spoke through a sly grin, his thoughts drifting back to the Chakram of End.

“What a fitting final battle… Now all that remains is to await the arrival of my cultivation”

The grin on his face stretched into something dangerously wide, an expression that promised both triumph and something far more unsettling.

This planet lay firmly under Xezural’s dominion. The three demons who had battled the Primarch of Reality were but a fraction of his direct subordinates.

No, he commanded many more, strategically stationed here on a world unknown to all but himself and his direct subordinates.

Here, cloaked in the shadow of his loyal servants, he would remain hidden, adjusting to his reincarnation, body, soul and cultivation.

The Reincarnation Art employed by Xezural granted him the ability to split his soul in two without suffering harm, transferring one half into a prearranged demon body and sealing it away.

Upon his death, the remaining half would arrive to reunite with its counterpart, restoring his essence.

Moreover, this Reincarnation Art uniquely allowed the reincarnator to retain their cultivation through the process, a crucial final step. Without this, the reincarnation would remain incomplete, leaving the cycle unfinished.

An hour passed in an instant as Xezural remained motionless in a lotus position, meticulously attuning himself to his new body.

He sought perfect harmony between mind and flesh, vigilant against any flaw in the reincarnation process, after all, such techniques were notoriously delicate, and a single misstep could undo millennia of painstaking effort.

Suddenly, a frown crept across his face as his body convulsed once more, this time with far greater intensity.

“What is happening?”

Xezural muttered, struggling to maintain control over his convulsing body.

“My soul… it’s rejecting the vessel”

The realization dawned on him, and horror flickered in his eyes.

“What went wrong?”

His mind raced through countless scenarios, dissecting every step of his plan, but found no trace of error or misstep.

What Xezural failed to realize was that a certain white-haired boy had unknowningly disrupted his carefully laid plans.

Anthony saved the millions of military soldiers that Xezural depended upon as source of energy to channel his cultivation into the new body, effectively sabotaging the Reincarnation Art and leaving the process fatally incomplete.

“NOOOO!!”

Xezural’s voice roared with madness as the Reincarnation Art turned on him, exploding his soul without mercy, for failing to complete the final step of the ritual.

In the next instant, his demonic vessel burst apart like an overfilled balloon, unable to contain the backlash.

Blood, bones, flesh, and organs scattered across the earth in a grotesque display, the remnants of a failed eternity.

Silence returned to it’s rightful place.

Xezural’s fatal error lay in his assumption that no one could escape his grasp.

And in truth, he was correct.

But his grave mistake was not in the logic… it was in fate.

He had chosen, of all places, a planet the protagonist happened to set foot upon, and in that single step, Xezural’s carefully woven plans began to unravel.