MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 454: All a game

Anthony hovered in midair, his silk-like white hair flowing gracefully with the wind.

All around him, chaos reigned.

Destruction trailed in his wake, and explosions erupted in relentless succession.

He turned his gaze to the left, there, screams pierced the air as soldiers clashed with grotesque abominations, each side locked in a savage struggle for survival.

He turned his gaze to the right, there, bodies fell like wilted leaves, blood weaving across the ground and pooling as if to form a river of the fallen.

He turned his gaze behind, there, smoke billowed into the sky while the echoes of steel and death rang unceasingly.

Then, he lifted his gaze upward, there, numerous portals unfurled across the heavens, from which demons and abominations poured like a torrential rain.

It was almost ironic, the military had spent countless hours issuing commands, fortifying borders, and positioning their forces at the frontlines, all in preparation for an external invasion.

Only for the demons to emerge from the most unexpected place of all: from within.

Anthony didn't need to wonder, or even guess, how the demons had managed to establish a portal within the heart of the military base.

They had spies embedded in the ranks all along.

No one knew how long these infiltrators had been among them, nor how high they had risen within the chain of command.

But one thing was certain, they had been patient, meticulously weaving their schemes, laying traps and contingencies like a spider preparing its web.

The demons had prepared for this day in advance, and now it had come.

With it, the military's intricate mechanisms meant to prevent spatial intrusions from outside the base crumbled into irrelevance.

Unlike the Baptism event hosted by the military after completing their mandatory year of training, where Anthony had immediately stepped forward to heal the wounded, this time, he remained still.

Calm. Unfazed. Watching in silence, his eyes devoid of emotion.

'The Supreme Monarch and the Warlords aren't making a move'

Anthony thought.

And it was understandable.

If the Supreme Monarch chose to intervene, a mere wave of their hand would be enough to bring this entire charade to an end.

Even the three Warlords remained behind the scenes.

Not even the Grand Marshals had stepped forward.

Yet every soldier, from the highest-ranking Generals to the lowest Recruits, fought with everything they had.

Anthony's gaze shifted.

In another direction, he saw the very people he had spent a year training alongside, now locked in a desperate struggle for survival.

What they faced now was something the Baptism could never hope to replicate.

Anthony's gaze drifted toward the Tower of Knowledge.

It wasn't difficult to conclude that the Soulpen Sovereign wouldn't lift a finger, unless the demons were foolish enough to lay a hand on his tower.

And yet, he had taken no precautions.

No barriers surrounded the tower, no aura of protection, not even the faintest trace of intent or mana.

Still, every demon and abomination, even the weakest among them, steered clear of it, as if the tower carried a curse.

Anthony let out a quiet smile at the thought, shaking his head in silent amusement.

He understood why these powerhouses refused to act.

Stronger soldiers were forged in blood and destruction, not in comfort or protection.

They left the groundwork to those beneath them in power, only stepping in when true titans emerged.

Unless the true commanders of the enemy appeared, they wouldn't even consider intervening.

Simply put, this was all a game to them, a brutal trial by fire masked as necessity.

As Anthony drifted in thought, a swarm of a hundred disfigured abominations surged toward him.

Their eyes burned with unhinged madness, void of reason, absent of sanity.

They existed for one purpose alone: to feed their insatiable hunger for death and destruction.

Their grotesque wings beat furiously against the wind like a plague of flies, shrieking as they closed in.

But Anthony didn't move.

"You're disturbing my movie"

Anthony's voice cut through the chaos.

At the sound, time itself seemed to freeze, the abominations halted midair, suspended as if caught in a frozen moment.

Anthony didn't even glance at them.

He spoke again, calm and unbothered:

"Die"

His words, sharp and absolute, became law.

In an instant, the abominations erupted like fireworks, their black-and-green blood splattering the air, painting a macabre masterpiece.

But none of it came close to Anthony, as Infinity held everything firmly at bay.

His gaze shifted, his piercing blue eyes settling on Lieutenant Darren, the very vampire who had brought him to this base.

Darren moved with lethal finesse and blinding speed.

He carried no weapon, his vampiric claws were more than enough.

His form flickered between demons, leaving gashes in his wake, blood spurting wherever his claws struck.

His blood-red eyes glowed fiercely as the blood pooling beneath his feet twisted to his will.

It rose, coalescing into a deadly arsenal, daggers, knives, swords, hammers, halberds, all suspended in the air.

"Fall"

His stern voice echoed.

And fall the weapons did.

Each found its mark with unerring precision.

They did not merely rain down haphazardly; Darren meticulously directed every blood wepaon toward a chosen enemy.

Each blood weapon reaped lives in service of his cause.

He blurred forward once more, poised to launch another assault.

But suddenly, a foot intruded into his field of vision.

With a fluid twist, he dodged gracefully and without hesitation, no pause, no glance to identify his assailant.

No.

He struck back in the very next instant.

His claws slashed through the air, releasing arcs of claw-infused aura.

The attacker, caught utterly off guard, met a swift and fatal end.

Darren didn't even pause to confirm the kill; his mind, body, and soul moved as one, seamlessly flowing into the next moment with relentless precision.

His knees dropped to the ground, palm pressing firmly against the earth.

His lips parted as he spoke with chilling calm:

"Blood Freeze"

A sinister red energy rippled outward from his palm, spreading for kilometers with him at its center.

Every living being within its reach, soldiers, demons, abominations alike, halted instantly, frozen in place as Darren seized control over their blood.

"Blood Explosion"

As the words slipped from his lips, everything, except the soldiers, began to swell grotesquely.

Those soldiers who regained control over their body vanished instantly from their positions.

The moment they moved, a torrent of explosions erupted.

Flesh, innards, organs, skin, bones, and blood rained down in a gruesome storm.

The stench and roar of chaos filled the air, sickening in its intensity.

But the falling blood never splashed upon the earth.

It froze midair, suspended under Darren's absolute control.

His eyes flared again, his cold gaze sharp as he uttered another command:

"Blood Cyclone"

The suspended blood spun with maddening speed, forming a violent vortex.

Then, with a cataclysmic burst, it detonated outward, sweeping through and annihilating every enemy beyond the reach of his prior attack.

Darren's hair whipped wildly in rhythm with the destruction he unleashed.

A fierce grin spread across his face, vampiric fangs bared in full display.

His bloodlust surged to its peak as he advanced.

The wind howled around him, screaming in his wake.

The demons had dared to invade the military base, seeking madness.

Madness was exactly what they would find.

Carnage was what he would bestow.