MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 405 405: Stealth

Beep.

”Approximately one hour until arrival at the destination”

The AI announced.

Having kept his eyes closed for some time, Anthony finally opened them, his expression steady as he spoke.

”Stop here”

Beep.

”Affirmative”

The AI responded without hesitation.

The aircraftʼs speed gradually diminished, its engines humming softly before it came to a complete stop.

”Weʼll proceed by ourselves from here”

Anthony said as he stood, his voice calm yet resolute.

”This is as far as the aircraft can go without risking complications”

The others nodded in unison, rising from their seats with a quiet readiness.

They made their way toward the hatch, which hissed open with a soft, mechanical sound, revealing the terrain beyond.

Anthonyʼs voice rang out again, firm and clear.

”Remember, this is a reconnaissance mission. Engage only if absolutely necessary. If you do, make it swift and silent, avoid drawing unnecessary attention”

”Yes, Captain”

Kingsley and the others replied in unison, their tone as steady as the resolve in their eyes.

As the hatch slid open, the team took in their surroundings, their eyes quickly scanning for any detail that could offer insight into their environment.

They observed quietly, unfazed, their expressions betraying no sign of surprise or hesitation.

Without a word, they stepped out of the aircraft, effortlessly floating mid air as they adjusted to the new terrain.

Dalen waved his hand casually, and the aircraft vanished, returning to his space ring.

Anthonyʼs gaze shifted to Kingsley, his thoughts momentarily drifting.

It was remarkable how Kingsley could remain aloft without any visible cultivation rank or energy, an ability that defied conventional understanding.

”Weʼll move on foot”

Anthony instructed, his voice decisive.

”Letʼs proceed”

No words were exchanged, but their movements were flawless in their synchronization.

One by one, they descended from the sky, their hair and clothing whipping in the gusts of the raging wind.

As their feet made contact with the ground, they instantly activated their concealment techniques, slipping into the shadows of their surroundings.

Darkness obeyed Dalenʼs command, erasing his presence entirely as he became one with the shadows.

Seraphim, with a subtle command of her Spiritual Energy, transformed into an ethereal form, her presence now barely perceptible.

Reynold, ever the master of subtlety, manipulated the heat distortion from the surrounding flames to bend light around him, his body blurring into a phantom before completely vanishing.

Kingsley, relying on his unique Divine Kata Talent, tapped into a hidden ability, disappearing just as seamlessly as the others.

Then, a voice resonated in their minds, clear and direct, Anthonyʼs.

”I will use a skill that will allow us to sense each otherʼs positions as we move”

With a snap of his fingers, a pulse of energy rippled through them, and instantly, they could sense the exact location of every member of the group, their positions now a silent, guiding beacon in the vastness around them.

”Let us proceed. Our objective is the Bleeding Hollow Zone”

Anthonyʼs voice sliced through the air, and without another word, he led the group onward.

His movements were seamless, almost ethereal, as though he were one with the very shadows themselves.

His eyes, sharp and focused, swept over the disaster torn landscape ahead, unperturbed even as the sky above tore open with violent streaks of lightning, akin to the claws of a vengeful deity.

Behind him, his companions followed in perfect synchronization: Dalen, a fleeting phantom in the dimming light; Seraphim, her spiritual aura veiled and deliberate; Reynold, whose form crackled with suppressed energy; and Kingsley, moving with the precision of a predator, silent and coiled with latent strength.

The air, thick with oppressive mana, distorted both vision and instinct.

Jagged spires of fractured earth jutted upward like the skeletal remnants of a long-dead world, their surfaces alive with pulsating veins of corrupted energy.

Far in the distance, tornadoes howled in unrestrained fury, their movements unpredictable and erratic, while the ground beneath their feet trembled with subtle, ceaseless undulations.

Yet they pressed on, weaving between collapsed ridges and trenches carved by the relentless storms, making use of the terrainʼs disarray to remain unseen.

Suddenly, a ripple in the chaotic mana disrupted the air, subtle but unmistakable. Anthony raised a hand, halting the group with a gesture as composed as his gaze.

His eyes never left the horizon, but those behind him understood the meaning: something stirred.

And then, the air behind them warped.

From the fractured earth, abominations emerged, beasts twisted by the corruption of chaos.

Their forms, once primal, were now grotesque parodies, scarred by jagged veins of erratic mana.

Their molten eyes burned with unpredictable fury, their movements erratic, as though reality itself bent and shuddered with each step they took.

Yet their hunger was undeniable.

They were drawn not by sound or sight, but by the faint, undulating traces of energy, of the subtle disruptions Dalen, Seraphim, and Reynold inadvertently caused in the fragile equilibrium of this forsaken land.

Dalen, the first to react, allowed his crimson gaze to sharpen.

With a swift motion, he drew a thin line of blood across his forearm.

The crimson liquid, like liquid fire, spiraled into the air, coalescing into a web of intricate runes as the surrounding shadows deepened in response to his will.

The moment one of the monstrosities lunged toward him, he vanished into the gloom, reappearing in a fluid arc with his spear descending in a lethal crescent.

In absolute silence, the spear pierced the creatureʼs skull, the dark threads of blood latching onto its limbs, constricting like serpents.

As the beast writhed in its final moments, darkness overtook it, swallowing it whole before it could touch the ground.

Not a sound escaped.

At the rear, Reynoldʼs gaze hardened as two more creatures emerged from the crags of the broken landscape, their forms flickering like unstable mirages.

Sparks of phoenix flame swirled around him, golden and whisper-quiet.

Drawing in a breath thick with the scent of ozone, he blurred forward.

His rapier, now ablaze with both flame and lightning, arced through the air in a dazzling display of power.

In a single, fluid motion, Reynoldʼs rapier cleaved through the monsters, their forms burning and sizzling into nothingness.

The silence of their demise was absolute, their corrupted bodies reduced to smoldering husks that disintegrated mid flight.

Meanwhile, Seraphim remained perfectly still, her half lidded eyes tracing intricate symbols in the air.

Her spiritual energy bent reality itself, creating illusions that rippled like fragile petals caught in a cosmic breeze.

The beast that approached her hesitated, confused by the shimmering mirages, each flickering in and out of existence.

With a whispered command, she invoked her power.

From the ethereal mirages erupted chains of translucent spiritual energy, as delicate and beautiful as starlight.

The chains coiled around the beast, tightening with quiet grace, drawing it to the ground.

Seraphimʼs steps were measured as she passed, her fingers lightly touching the beastʼs forehead.

The light pulsed once, then faded.

The monster crumbled into ash, utterly still.

Through it all, Anthony remained unchanged, an unshakable presence amidst the chaos.

His stillness was unnatural, as if he existed beyond the reach of the landʼs madness.

Even the creatures, born of turmoil and frenzy, seemed to pass him by, oblivious to his presence.

Kingsley, poised just behind him, moved with equal restraint, his every step silent yet imbued with the potential to strike with the force of a predator.

Yet, nothing approached him.

They moved again, slipping through fault lines and past rivers of churning mana, which hissed and writhed like serpents.

Above them, the sky cracked open with streaks of cerulean lightning, while distant mana storms screamed in anguish like banshees lost to the ravages of time.

A surge of hostile presence rippled through the air, stronger this time.

Five monstrous forms emerged, twisted and contorted like impossible aberrations.

Their movements were erratic, blinking in and out of existence with trails of chaotic energy that warped the air around them.

One of them lunged toward Dalen.

Dalen inhaled deeply, slamming his spear into the ground with force.

Shadows erupted outward, engulfing both him and the approaching beasts.

A dome of inky black fog enveloped them, soundless and suffocating.

Inside, there was no light, no warmth, only the faint shimmer of blood-etched symbols.

Moments later, the dome dissipated, leaving only Dalen standing, his spear lowered.

Blood trailed across the broken earth like ink on an unfinished page.

At the same moment, Reynoldʼs fingers flicked in a sharp motion, invoking the stormʼs fury.

Lightning crackled along his blade, while the flames of the phoenix spiraled into a radiant shroud around him.

With a single, elegant spin, Reynold unleashed a torrent of fire and lightning, which struck the remaining beasts with precise, deadly force.

Their bodies, seared and shattered, crumbled to ash, leaving nothing but scorched earth in their wake.

Seraphim, undisturbed, walked among the illusions she had set in motion.

One of the creatures lunged toward an illusion, only to be impaled by an ethereal blade, a spiritual weapon she had prepared moments before, hidden beneath the false image.

She did not glance back at the fallen monster as she passed, her focus sharp.

And still, not a single sound betrayed them.

The battles were swift and decisive, marked by the seamless coordination of blade, blood, and illusion.

Their enemies fell in silence, silent but for the whispers of destruction that followed in their wake.

Kingsley remained a shadow, untouched and unshaken.

Yet his body was coiled, his strength restrained for the moment it might be needed.

Anthony, ever the silent leader, read the landscape with an unerring precision, attuned to its every breath, every shift.

They pressed on, undeterred, through the living nightmare.

And behind them, the wind carried no echo of their passing.

After nearly an hour of relentless movement, they arrived.

The Bleeding Hollow Zone.