MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 480: Too late

Anthony moved with seamless grace through the swirling fumes and chaos, his figure a blur amidst the disarray.

This time, he called upon the true Healing Art, an advanced and refined form, channeling it not merely to staunch wounds, but to completely mend them.

He did not simply halt the bleeding; he knit flesh, repaired bone, and revitalized the weary. Stamina surged anew within the soldiers, their minds cleared of haze and pain.

Though he was unable to restore their mana or Spiritual Energy, such limitations mattered little in the face of the life he had returned to them.

The battlefield had shifted. Anthony had granted the healers a brief reprieve, a moment to catch their breath after their tireless efforts.

Some were already ghostly pale, their strength nearly spent from tending to the wounded without pause.

Yet it seemed that the more Anthony healed, the more the wounds reappeared, as though reality itself sought to undo his every act, a cruel mockery of his power.

But he did not falter.

He moved with greater urgency, swifter and more precise than before, his resolve hardening with every step.

On any other day, Anthony might have remained uninvolved.

But not now. He was a soldier, not just for himself, but for the planet, for the military, for every life that still clung to hope amid the chaos.

”Are they seriously turning this into a racial competition right now?”

Anthony mused, watching with a mix of disbelief and amusement as the Vampires, Dragons, Elves, and Dwarves abruptly shifted their battle tactics.

Even the Fairies joined in, weaving nature itself into the fray as plants sprang to life under their command.

”How unfortunate… the human race has no inherent racial abilities”

He murmured with a resigned sigh.

The temptation to join the spectacle tugged at him, but reality held him back.

Without any racial ability traits, the humans couldnʼt join in on the fun. It wasnʼt like he alone could represent the entire human race.

”So theyʼre counting on my healing abilities now”

Anthony mused, his gaze drifting across the battlefield as the so-called racial showcase unfolded with increasing intensity.

But before he could take a step, a surge of demonic energy snapped him back to the present.

The demons, and the abominations with them, descended upon him with ruthless intent.

They understood what he was: a healer. And in war, healers are priority targets, remove the support, and the rest would crumble.

They were coming to take him off the board.

Anthony smiled as the swarm approached.

He didnʼt reach for his katana, this time, he chose something different. Something primal.

He would use his body.

With a sharp burst of movement, the ground behind him exploded, sand and stone flung backward in a violent spray as he launched himself forward like a living spear.

No blade. No hesitation. Only raw force.

Before a demon could even blink, Anthony was already upon him.

His fist rocketed upward in a brutal uppercut, the force behind it like a cannon blast.

BOOM

The impact landed square beneath the demonʼs jaw, snapping its head skyward with a sickening crack, and in the very next instant, the head burst apart like a shattered watermelon, chunks of flesh and dark blood spraying across the battlefield.

Anthony didnʼt stop.

He was just getting started.

Before the rest could react, Anthony was already in motion, unstoppable, untouchable.

His body twisted, and his elbow shot out like a battering ram, colliding with the side of an abominationʼs skull.

CRACK

The sickening sound of bone caving in echoed through the chaos, sharp and final.

The abomination crumpled to the ground with a heavy thud, lifeless before it even hit the dirt.

A searing beam of fire tore through the fabric of space, hurtling straight toward Anthony.

He didnʼt bother to block. With effortless grace, he sidestepped the attack, closing the distance between himself and the demon in an instant. A swift, arcing roundhouse kick to the head brought the confrontation to a decisive end.

Anthony moved with calculated precision, his body a finely honed instrument of destruction.

Fists. Hands. Fingers. Knees. Feet. Legs.

Every limb, every joint, was wielded with flawless control, each motion a testament to lethal mastery.

His body coiled like a spring, muscles rippling with unleashed power, fast, precise, and utterly lethal.

Corpses piled in his wake, each movement deliberate, economical, devoid of waste.

Yet the demons and abominations showed no hesitation. Their strength lay in a seemingly endless horde.

Anthony remained unfazed. With calm eyes, he obliterated anything that dared approach, channeling pure mana with ruthless efficiency.

Blood erupted in black geysers, bodies crumpled, and lives were snuffed out as effortlessly as a flickering flame.

Yet Anthonyʼs breathing remained steady, his military uniform immaculate, Infinity shielding him from every speck of dust and drop of blood.

Without warning, he dove to the side, and in that very instant, a dagger sliced through the space he had just vacated.

”Sneak attacks are futile against me, pal”

Anthony said with a calm smile, his heel snapping out like a viperʼs strike, connecting solidly with the demonʼs neck and ending it instantly.

But Anthony did not pause in his movements.

Another dagger hurtled toward him, yet he made no effort to dodge. Instead, he caught it effortlessly.

Before the demon could savor any triumph, Anthony was already upon him.

With practiced ease, he tore the talisman from the dagger and pressed it firmly against the demonʼs stomach. Then, with a powerful punch, he sent the creature hurtling backward into the waiting horde.

Driven by momentum, the demon collided with the others, and the talisman detonated with a brutal, ear-splitting boom engulfing the hoard.

The ground beneath Anthonyʼs feet split open, transforming into a treacherous quagmire that sought to swallow him whole.

He cast a steady, unflinching gaze downward as the mire crept upward, pulling him deeper.

The demons and abominations seized the moment without hesitation, rushing forward with savage intent.

Claws slashed, weapons swung, fangs snapped, and grotesque limbs tore through the air in an unending onslaught.

”Everyone suddenly wants a piece of me, huh”

Anthony murmured, eyes narrowing as the onslaught closed in around him.

Then, with a subtle parting of his lips, he uttered

Spatial Repulse

Time seemed to stutter, as if the very world hesitated.

Then, with devastating power, every attack, every creature, every object within reach was violently hurled backward, slammed away by an overwhelming force.

A thunderous boom reverberated through the air as demons and abominations were torn asunder by the spatial blast.

Weapons shattered, claws shredded, and even the quagmire beneath him unraveled, undone by the sheer magnitude of the eruption.

His lips parted once more.

Spatial Pull

In an instant, hundreds of demons fighting the other soldiers were seized by an invisible force, yanked violently toward a single, unyielding point.

Their eyes flicked to the source of the pull; too late.

A gleaming katana sliced through the air, effortlessly severing heads from necks with deadly precision.

In the blink of an eye, another hundreds of demons were eradicated.

Anthony did not stop for a second to breathe.

He surged forward, his body darting fluidly across the battlefield.

Wherever a soldier faltered, struggling against their foe, he was there, turning the tide.

Those wounded and in need of aid found healing in his steady hands.

His piercing blue eyes flickered with restless energy, sweeping across the chaos with unerring focus, ensuring the war pressed on with easy momentum.