MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 690: Voryss

”I will ask you once more, Anthony. Is this the ability you intend to use to stop the Demon King?” Klaus’s voice cut through the ruined air, his form standing tall, posture unshaken. He gazed down at Anthony like a god peering upon a mortal, detached yet absolute.

There was no disappointment in his tone, only inevitability. It was as if he had already foreseen this outcome, already known that Anthony’s final play would not change the result. He did not believe Anthony had any hidden card powerful enough to shift battle result at the moment.

To Klaus, this battle was not a contest. It was a reminder. A lesson carved in flesh and blood to show Anthony that even if he had climbed a step closer to the summit of this galaxy, even if he now stood among the notable existences of his era, he remained utterly insignificant before those who truly reigned at the peak of this galaxy.

And yet, amid the silence, laughter erupted.

”HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

It was Anthony.

He laughed with torn lips and a throat choked in blood, each cough painting his smile crimson. Yet it was not the laughter of madness, nor the hollow hysteria of a broken man. It was pure. It was genuine. It carried the unmistakable weight of joy, a laughter that seemed to spring from a strange and inexplicable happiness buried deep within him.

Klaus’s brow furrowed as he looked at Anthony, uncertain why, in such a condition, he would find cause to laugh.

Anthony’s body trembled as he forced himself upward, pain exploding through every nerve with each movement. His frame rose with agonizing steadiness, flesh, bone, and ligament dangling grotesquely from his mangled right side. But even as blood streamed and muscles tore, a smile remained fixed upon his face.

Since his reincarnation, Anthony had never been defeated in battle. He had never been driven so far into a corner. And now, for the first time in nineteen years, he bled more than ever before. This was the most brutal trial he had endured, the most blood he had ever shed in his entire existence.

”What is so amusing, Anthony?” Klaus asked, his voice calm, his stance unshaken. He resembled a master addressing a wayward pupil who had yet to understand the lesson before him.

Anthony wiped the blood from his lips, his grin unfaltering. ”Forgive me,” he said hoarsely, voice breaking yet steady. ”I was simply... lost in personal thoughts.”

Klaus’s eyes narrowed.

”And as for your question,” Anthony continued, his gaze unwavering, ”about how I plan to stop the Demon King... you assume too much. I never said I would fight him personally.”

His words were delivered with serenity, but their meaning thundered through the air. When Anthony had once claimed the Demon King would fall should he attack, it was not arrogance that spoke. It had been simple truth. Anthony knew that if he were to face the Demon King personally, he would lose. The difference between their power was too vast, the gulf too insurmountable.

”This is my final card, Klaus. If you withstand this... then I concede my loss.”

His smile deepened, twisting into something radiant and fierce. A ridiculous surge of mana erupted from his core, so vast, so unthinkable, it should have been impossible for someone of his rank to contain. The heavens quaked, and the earth cracked beneath the thunderous waves radiating outward.

Anthony’s lips parted once more, but this time his tone carried finality, as if his voice itself pronounced the judgment of the world.

[Summoning Magic: Primordial Behemoth]

The words resonated like divine decree. Behind him, a massive magic circle blazed into existence, radiant and intricate, its runes spinning for but a heartbeat before vanishing. As the circle disappeared, space itself convulsed in terror. Reality trembled, then collapsed inward, a yawning void tearing open beside Anthony.

From that void surged an immense presence, raw, crushing, absolute. It pressed down upon the entire realm with suffocating weight, erasing existence itself in its wake. Trees were unmade. Mountains vanished as though deleted from creation. The wind ignited into fire, and the sand beneath their feet disintegrated into nothingness. Oblivion followed where the presence reached.

For the first time in the battle, Klaus’s calm wavered. His eyes widened as a flash of shock split through his controlled expression. He recognized the presence that spilled forth from the void.

He had felt it once before, four years ago.

Back then, it had not been only him. The entire Blue Planet had felt it. For Anthony had summoned this presence once before, during his impossible mission within Omni Peak Academy. A mission where he had been hunted, where he had been forced to slaughter his own teammates under the weight of the bounty placed upon his head. That was the first, and until now, the only, time this ability had been unleashed.

Footsteps echoed from the void, each step reverberating as though sound itself struggled to contain it. Louder and louder it grew, until even the abyss could not silence its arrival.

And then, she stepped through.

A being of impossible grace, walking with deadly ease, as though her stride alone could collapse universes. She towered at seven feet, her presence both divine and terrifying. Two golden horns, etched with white markings, jutted elegantly from her forehead, reaching skyward as if daring the heavens themselves to oppose her will.

Her body seemed timeless, sculpted beyond mortal comprehension, her very existence demanding reverence. Her allure was enslaving, her beauty so absolute that to gaze upon her directly was to risk surrendering one’s soul. Flowing orange hair cascaded down her back, shimmering like strands forged from celestial flame. Her eyes, the same shade of molten orange, burned with such depth it was as though they had been forged from the very core of existence.

The moment she appeared, her presence swept over Anthony. His flesh knit together at once. Torn muscle and broken bone regenerated flawlessly. His missing flesh reformed as though it had never been damaged. His body was restored to its pristine state, blood washed away, dust and grime erased. Anthony now stood whole, perfect, as though the battle had never touched him.

Then, with grace that defied description, the being lowered herself to one knee. She bowed her head, her voice rolling forth smooth and resonant, both powerful and soothing.

”Master, your servant Voryss awaits your command.”

Her words resonated like music upon the battlefield, carrying weight yet flowing like silk.

Anthony’s smile broadened, but he said nothing. His blue eyes lingered on the being kneeling before him, then shifted back toward Klaus. His grin widened into something sharp, almost mischievous.

Although he could not defeat Klaus personally, who ever said he had to fight alone?

Voryss was not a mere summon. She was a sign-in reward from years past, a being Anthony had never once called upon, for no threat had ever warranted her presence. Until now.

And now, her time had finally come.