MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 484

Chapter 484: What a drag
Within Anthony’s Mirror Dimension, he floated serenely, untouched by the stares around him. Eyes from every direction gazed upon him, some with reverence, as though beholding a divine being; others with admiration, captivated by his appearance. Yet, none of it held meaning for him.

Their stares, their thoughts, they were all the same to him. He remained detached, indifferent to it all.

Before anyone could utter a word, Grand Marshal Alaric stepped forward, his deep laughter echoing through the hall.

“Ha ha ha ha! From the very moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were destined for greatness”

He spoke, stepping forward with confidence that matched the warmth in his smile.

Anthony turned his gaze toward the Grand Marshal, his expression unreadable.

‘I’ve never seen you before in my life, old man’

Anthony thought silently, but wisely kept the words to himself.

After all, the man was a Grand Marshal, and deserving, at the very least, of a measure of respect.

Anthony offered a courteous smile and replied.

“Thank you, Grand Marshal”

Without delay, the remaining Grand Marshals stepped forward, closing the distance between themselves and Anthony.

“It’s been some time, young soldier”

The Grand Marshal Titan spoke, his voice resonating with familiarity.

“Indeed”

Grand Marshal Dragon added with a faint, knowing smile.

“It has been quite a while since we last crossed paths”

One by one, they each established a sense of rapport, their smiles betraying a shared recognition, as if bonds had long existed.

After all, Anthony was the son of two Supreme Monarchs.

But beyond his lineage, they had witnessed his prowess firsthand, his battles, his masterful healing spells, and the mastery over his Light Magic, and most importantly, his ridiculous mana reserve.

They knew, without a doubt, that he was formidable.

Formidable enough to vanquish a Demon of Exarch rank and even above that.

Of the Seven Grand Marshals, only five remained present now.

The Grand Marshal Werefox and the Grand Marshal Elf had fallen to their respective opponents, an event that had granted Azrakar the opportunity to confront Anthony before the military base teetered on the brink of collapse.

The millions of soldiers within the ranks were abruptly pulled from their reverie the moment Grand Marshal Alaric’s voice rang out.

Now, they observed in stunned silence as the other Grand Marshals exchanged smiles and words with the white-haired boy, treating him as an equal, one of their own stature.

They were simply too astonished to find their voices.

Although almost none had ever encountered a Grand Marshal in person, since it was rare for soldiers to meet those two ranks above them, and even rarer beyond that, they immediately recognized the Grand Marshals by their distinctive uniforms.

Each military rank bore its own unique design and color, unmistakably marking their authority.

Yet, to see Grand Marshals speaking so openly to a mere Lieutenant… Could this truly be real, or merely an illusion?

What none of them realized, however, was the true extent of Anthony’s backing.

The only individuals outside the upper echelons who were privy to this knowledge were Lieutenant Darren, the one who had escorted him to the military base, and Corporal Daniel, the traitor.

Even Seraphim, Kingsley, Reynold, and Dale remained unaware.

“I will make sure to report your battle to the higher-ups”

The Grand Marshal Vampire said with a knowing smile as she, too, stepped forward to engage Anthony.

As Grand Marshals, their perception was formidable, capable of surveying the entire battlefield even amidst combat.

Moreover, Anthony’s act of saving millions of soldiers from certain death was nothing short of extraordinary.

The Soulpen Sovereign, who had observed the battle unfold as if it were a grand drama, would undoubtedly be questioned about it as well.

‘What a drag’

Anthony thought with a weary sigh, as he continued to respond to the Grand Marshals’ words.

In a different corner of the Mirror Dimension, the three Primarchs of Reality, Kaelrix, Therionis, and Zauren, the formidable Warlords of Military Base Alpha-6, hovered silently.

Unlike the other soldiers and Grand Marshals, they made no move to approach Anthony. Instead, they stood apart, their expressions unreadable, their thoughts fixed elsewhere.

On one name alone:

Sylmira Velthariel; the Chakram Of End.

They hadn’t laid eyes on her, until now.

And the very fact that she had not returned with haste crystallized a single, chilling word in their minds.

A truth the trio dared not fully accept:

DEATH

The Chakram of End had fallen.

The demise of a Supreme Monarch was no matter to be taken lightly.

In that moment, thoughts of the soldiers or the destroyed military base faded into insignificance.

More soldiers could be trained. The base could be rebuilt. But forging another Supreme Monarch, that was a gift of talent, not mere effort.

One either possessed the innate power to ascend, or they did not.

The warlords felt their hearts pound as a fierce anger began to rise within them.

Their blood boiled, their presence threatened to surge uncontrollably. But they held back, for if unleashed here, their overwhelming aura would spell doom for the very soldiers present within Anthony’s Mirror Dimension.

Their faces remained impassive, but their minds had reached a resolute conclusion.

Once the dust had settled, the three would embark on a mission of their own.

Since the demons had dared to come to them, this time, the warlords would take the fight to the demons.

A silent, unspoken agreement passed between them, there was no need for words.

The rest of the group remained oblivious to the true gravity of the situation as they murmured among themselves.

After all, none had ever seen the Supreme Monarch, nor did they know where she resided; they only knew her name and race, nothing beyond that.

They had no knowledge of whether she had even faced a demon, or if she had been present at the military base before its destruction.

Thus, there was no way they could fathom the truth of her demise.

Anthony’s gaze shifted toward the Primarchs of Reality. He could sense the storm within them, the simmering rage, the deep sorrow, and the barely concealed killing intent.

Uncertain of the weight of their burden, Anthony chose silence. He neither spoke nor approached, instead maintaining his composure as he continued his conversation with the Grand Marshals.

If their aura sought to consume the soldiers within the Mirror Dimension, he was ready to forge a new realm, a space where they could unleash their power without restraint.