MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 387: Aura Farming

Anthony returned to his room, the echoes of the battle already fading in his mind.

While the battle itself had posed little challenge, there was a certain satisfaction in the rare opportunity to move, to engage in combat, even if only for a fleeting moment.

By the time he arrived, the clock had struck 9 PM, the evening's silence thickening around him.

He quickly indulged in a soothing bath, the warm water washing away the remnants of the day's exertion.

Once refreshed, he donned a set of blue pajamas, the fabric soft against his skin, and slid into his socks.

With a quiet sigh, he settled into bed, the day's tension melting away as sleep began to claim him.

Outside, the night stood still, a cool breeze sweeping through the air with a soft, almost imperceptible whisper.

The world seemed suspended in time, draped in tranquility and peace.

As the minutes passed, the night deepened, and the hours slipped by unnoticed.

By the time the clock read 1 AM, the world outside remained as silent and undisturbed as ever.

Anthony, his eyes closed in the depths of sleep, was suddenly roused by a jolt of instinct.

His eyelids flew open, his mind instantly sharpened.

Without a moment's hesitation, his hand shot out with the speed of a striking serpent, a swift and powerful motion directed at the empty space before him.

The unseen assailant had no time to react, its presence detected only in the fleeting seconds before destruction.

Anthony's fist collided with the air where the enemy lurked, and with a sickening, explosive sound, its head was pulverized, splintering like a ripe watermelon.

Dark, viscous blood splattered across the bed, the walls, and the floor in a grotesque arc.

The lifeless body dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, its fall resonating with the finality of death.

In the same instant, a cold, unsettling sensation coursed through Anthony's senses.

He felt it, a lingering presence, a malignant force wrapping itself around him.

Almost immediately, a chime echoed in his mind.

[Ding. The Host has been cursed. Host's physical and mana abilities are restricted to the S+ rank. Proceed to lift?]

'No'

Anthony's replied internally.

His gaze shifted toward the lifeless body that had fallen to the ground.

From the corpse, a surge of chaotic energy began to stir, swirling in the air with a malevolent force.

"The Forsaken Cult"

Anthony murmured under his breath.

A knowing thought appeared on his face.

He was certain now, this was no mere coincidence.

This was another move orchestrated by the military.

The curse.

The attack.

The dark influence of the Forsaken Cult.

All of it bore the unmistakable signature of the military's hand.

If they had the resources to conceal and manipulate demons for their military trials, then it stood to reason they could just as easily do the same with the Forsaken Cult.

As Anthony's thoughts spiraled, the ground trembled beneath him.

Devastating explosions shook the very foundation of the land, their force sending shockwaves through the air.

Buildings crumbled into piles of rolling stones and jagged bricks, their remnants scattering like dust in the wind.

Smoke and flames licked the night sky, casting an eerie, flickering light across the destruction.

The sounds of chaos followed, the roar of mana crackling through the air, the howl of untamed forces, until it all merged into one deafening cacophony.

Anthony's gaze snapped upward.

His own building was in the throes of collapse, the structure disintegrating above him.

Yet, he did not move to evade it.

Instead, his feet left the ground as he effortlessly floated into the air, his presence defying the chaos below.

The incoming debris, stones, shattered glass, and crumbling stone, were sent spiraling aside, effortlessly deflected by the power of infinity.

In an instant, his blue pajamas shifted, morphing at his command into a sleek black shirt and trousers, the fabric adapting to his thoughts with seamless precision.

[Ding]

[All space related abilities and skills have become obsolete due to space being sealed]

A wry smirk tugged at the corner of Anthony's lips.

"It seems the military has made things rather difficult for the recruits this time"

He mused to himself, the weight of the situation settling in.

Even basic teleportation was rendered useless.

Infinity, too, was ineffectual.

The very fabric of space had been sealed, trapping him in this confined area.

The only spatial technique left at his disposal would be Spatial Marks.

But, Anthony wasn't planning on running.

He would face this challenge head on.

His gaze shifted to the side, where an enormous dome now stretched over a vast area.

Its circumference covering a twenty kilometer radius.

Through the All Seeing Eyes, Anthony quickly discerned the impenetrable nature of the barrier.

No matter the strength of his abilities, they could not pass through the force field.

The military had set it up with a singular purpose: to keep them contained, forcing the combatants into a direct confrontation with no means of escape.

Anthony's gaze shifted once again to the unfolding battle.

The recruits' expressions were fierce, their faces a mixture of determination and confidence as they dodged and weaved through the relentless onslaught of attacks.

Like him, some had sensed the impending danger, their instincts alerting them to the first signs of the sneak assault before their attackers had even struck.

Others, however, had acted by launching their counterattacks after the assailants made their move.

There were those who hadn't detected the threat in time; their only warning had come in the form of a surge of primal instinct, urging them to evade the blow.

They danced out of the way by mere inches, their lives spared by sheer luck.

And then, there were the unfortunate few, caught off guard and struck down in the very first wave.

The brutality of the attack left them fatally wounded, their bodies slumping to the ground in a cruel testament to the military's calculated strike.

The military had chosen this moment carefully, waiting for their targets to be most vulnerable.

The instant they completed their military training, an instinctive sense of relief had settled over them.

They had unknowingly dropped their guard, lulled into complacency by the false assurance that their trials were over.

The military had allowed them to indulge in their brief moment of respite.

They were permitted to party after their training.

They were permitted to enjoy the camaraderie of the arena match.

With all of this, their vigilance had waned, their defenses reduced to zero.

Anthony continued to watch from above, his gaze steady.

It wasn't just the Forsaken Cult that had entered the area.

Demons had emerged as well, their grotesque forms mingling with the chaos, adding to the carnage.

He floated silently, his face a mask of stoic indifference, betraying no emotion as the battle raged below.

Normally, he would have stayed detached, unwilling to intervene, too disinterested to involve himself in the struggles of others.

But things were different now.

He was part of the military.

He held a rank.

He had a responsibility.

It wasn't a matter of choice anymore.

He couldn't stand idly by, watching as others perished.

Not when he now carried the weight of duty on his shoulders.

He had to act.

He couldn't let them die without trying to help.

It was time to make a move.

At this moment, not a single recruit possessed a weapon, nor did any carry healing or stamina potions.

They were completely unarmed, vulnerable to the brutal onslaught around them.

Anthony wasn't sure whether the military would intervene to save those on the verge of death.

From the fragments of information he had gleaned about their operations, however, it was clear that the military had no compunction about letting casualties fall.

After all, some recruits had already perished during the very first military trials.

The cold reality of their world was undeniable, survival was not guaranteed.

Anthony's hand slowly rose toward the sky, his fingers curling into a fist until only his index finger remained extended, pointing directly upward.

A silence fell, heavy and expectant, as the air seemed to hold its breath.

Then, his voice rang out, resonating with the weight of authority.

It was a voice like a celestial decree, commanding, imposing, impossible to ignore.

It carried with it an imposing presence, a regal tone that seemed to shake the very fabric of the atmosphere.

[Light Magic: Healing Type: Healing Feathers]

In an instant, the oppressive darkness above parted as a brilliant, intense golden light surged forth in response to Anthony's incantation.

Time itself seemed to halt.

Whether human, dragon, demon, or elf, all eyes turned toward the sky, where the light had transformed the night into something akin to day.

Golden feathers, radiant and ethereal, began to descend from the heavens, floating down in a graceful cascade.

As they touched the recruits, each feather carried with it a wave of restorative power.

Injuries were mended, stamina replenished, and within mere seconds, every recruit was returned to their peak condition, revitalized and ready to fight once more.

All eyes shifted toward Anthony, the source of the miraculous spell.

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His hair swayed gently, caught in the rhythm of the wind, while his piercing blue eyes gleamed with an almost otherworldly light.

The golden light surrounding him made him appear as though a divine being had descended from the heavens themselves.

Seizing the moment of surprise created by the spell, the recruits surged forward with newfound energy.

Their movements were swift, their strikes more determined.

Some managed to land solid, clean blows as they attacked.

But their opponents were far from ordinary.

In response, the demons and other combatants reacted with lightning speed, dodging or parrying the attacks with precision.

A slight chuckle escaped Anthony's lips as he surveyed the scene.

"I suppose it's time to show something new"

He mused, his tone laced with amusement.

His indifferent expression shifted into a smirk, a glimmer of excitement flickering in his eyes.

"It's been a while since I've shown anything new to my precious readers"