MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 401: Kingsley Sky [Daplug]-2

Upon the activation of the Authority Of Information, an overwhelming torrent of knowledge surged into Anthonyʼs mind.

Kingsley Sky, a descendant of the Sky family within the Human Domain, was revealed to him.

The Sky family, though once proud, was a modest household founded by its first Patriarch, a man who had reached the Sovereign rank.

However, the current head of the family had only attained the first level of the Grandmaster rank, a pale shadow of the greatness their forebear once embodied.

The Sky family, like many before them, could not sustain the emergence of prodigies with each passing generation.

As the brilliance of their bloodline waned, so too did their influence, a slow, inevitable decline.

To survive, they were forced to forge alliances with other families and seek favor from mightier powerhouses, trading pride for resources.

Yet Kingsley was not merely another member of the Sky lineage.

He was the firstborn son of the current Patriarch, the heir apparent to the familyʼs mantle of leadership.

But he was not alone in his birth.

He had a twin, a second son, born of the same blood.

Kingsley had been hailed as a prodigy since the moment he drew breath.

He grasped complex teachings with little more than a passing glance, and his physique allowed him to breeze through even the most grueling exercises and training regimens.

Praise followed him like a shadow, abundant and unceasing.

Smiles bloomed wherever he went, fueled by the hope that Kingsley would one day restore the Sky family to its former grandeur.

His twin brother, Karsley, stood in quiet contrast.

While he was not without talent and still received commendation, it paled in comparison to the reverence Kingsley inspired.

But Karsley remained unbothered.

He bore no resentment, for he understood the circumstances well.

His fatherʼs love for him never wavered.

The additional attention Kingsley received was not a reflection of favoritism, but the natural result of grooming an heir.

And that, Karsley accepted completely.

The long awaited day of awakening had finally arrived.

Anticipation hung heavy in the air as the Sky family assembled, elders, retainers, and kin alike, drawn by the hope that one of their young masters would awaken a talent capable of restoring their lineage to its former prestige, perhaps even surpassing it.

Karsley stepped forward first as they decided to save the best for last.

To the surprise of many, he successfully awakened a Talent, modest, yet genuine.

A ripple of joy swept through the gathered crowd, their hearts buoyed with cautious optimism.

All eyes then turned to the first son, the prodigy.

Kingsley.

Expectations soared.

The whispers ceased.

Hope swelled to a crescendo.

But reality, as it often does, proved merciless.

Kingsley stood still.

His mana core didnʼt even form.

Not even a flicker of any energy coursed his body.

And no Talent stirred within him.

From that moment onward, everything began to unravel.

The love that once surrounded Kingsley vanished.

The warm smiles, the comforting embraces, the patient advice, gone.

Resources once freely given were withdrawn, and the unwavering support that once lifted him was replaced by silence and scorn.

He had been branded, the disgrace of the Sky family.

And as Kingsley faded into the shadows of shame, Karsley stepped into the light.

Named the new heir, he was groomed to become the next Patriarch.

All that had once belonged to Kingsley, attention, admiration, privilege, now flowed toward his brother.

And Karsley embraced it without hesitation.

He savored every moment of it.

Kingsley became the object of scorn.

Bullied, starved, and cast aside, he lived in conditions so cruel that even the maids fared better than him.

Each day brought beatings, insults, and humiliation, spit upon as if he were less than dirt beneath their feet.

Yet Kingsley never faltered.

He endured it all in silence.

While the world turned its back on him, he continued the same rigorous training he had begun at the age of five.

If he could not wield mana, then he would hone his body until it defied all limits.

Malnutrition gnawed at his frame.

Pain was a constant companion.

But his will? Unshaken.

His spirit burned quietly, defiantly, refusing to be broken.

This quiet suffering continued for decades, until Kingsley reached the age of forty.

At last, the Patriarch made his final decision: Kingsley was to be exiled from the Sky family.

Cast out without honor, without title, and without so much as a backward glance.

But for some, this was not a moment of closure, it was an opportunity.

Karsley and the elders had long awaited this day.

Bound by tradition and reputation, they could not raise a hand against Kingsley while he remained within the family.

But now that he had been banished…

He was no longer protected.

No longer one of them.

And so, the moment the decree was issued, they moved.

Two days after his exile, death came for Kingsley.

There was no subtlety in the assassinʼs approach, no shadowy cloak or silent strike.

Why bother?

The target was a powerless, castaway man with no backing and no protection.

No one would mourn him.

No one would question his disappearance.

Despite the futility, Kingsley stood his ground.

He fought.

Years of relentless physical training surged through his muscles as he resisted with all he had.

But in the face of true power, it meant nothing.

He lacked mana, he lacked technique, he lacked everything but his will.

Everything but his unbreakable determination.

And that was not enough.

With a single, effortless swing aimed at his throat, the assassin ended it.

Blood erupted like a crimson fountain, painting the earth with the defiance of a man the world had long forgotten.

Kingsley wasnʼt a fool.

Even as his vision blurred and the warmth of life spilled from his throat, he understood the truth with painful clarity.

His brother, Karsley, was behind this.

The elders, too, had played their part, orchestrating the moment with quiet precision.

And the Patriarch… he had known.

He had foreseen this outcome the moment he exiled Kingsley and yet chose silence.

Betrayal, thick and bitter, hung in the air.

And still, Kingsleyʼs will did not waver.

Even as his blood soaked into the soil, even as his body failed him, his spirit refused to flicker.

It burned with a quiet, relentless fury.

A fire that no blade could extinguish.

Then it happened.

A force greater than the world itself responded.

Kingsleyʼs will, unshakeable, resolute, demanded that the universe acknowledge him.

Time itself bent in response.

The blood, once spilled in torrents, defied gravity and surged back into his body.

His throat, severed moments ago, knitted itself together as though the wound had never been.

And then, it came.

His Talent awakened.

Divine Kata.

A gift not of mana, but of body and spirit, an art capable of transcending the physical and mental realms.

A grace and precision that could rival the gods themselves.

Yet, despite this extraordinary talent, Kingsley remained manaless.

His body had been gifted with a Talent that could defy the laws of nature, but it did nothing to alter the harsh reality of his existence.

His fate, unbroken by the awakening, remained unchanged.

He was still just a man, powerless in the face of the realityʼs cruelty.

Twenty years had passed since Kingsley vanished from the Sky familyʼs radar.

But now, he returned.

His once-dull eyes and hair had transformed, shimmering in an otherworldly purple as he stepped onto the grounds of the Sky family estate.

The sunlight reflected off him like a dark omen, heralding the storm that would soon engulf them.

And what followed could be summed up by a single word:

CARNAGE.

Blood flowed in torrents as Kingsley carved his way through the very family that had cast him aside.

His twin, Karsley, fell first.

Then the elders.

Then the Patriarch, the man who had been content to watch his sonʼs suffering.

They all perished.

As for his mother… she had passed long ago, her death nothing more than a memory, a casualty of the birth that had brought both Kingsley and Karsley into the world.

The Sky family, once proud, was wiped from existence that day.

No remnants remained.

Kingsley had no need to flee, no reason to hide.

In a world where justice was a myth and only the strong prevailed, there were no courts to pass judgment or authorities to pursue him.

Only power dictated the course of things, the one with the biggest fist was the one who shaped the world.

And Kingsley was more than capable of wielding that fist.

For another thirty years, he disappeared from the worldʼs gaze, leaving behind only the bloody memory of his vengeance.

When he finally reappeared, it was not as a fugitive, but as a man with a singular purpose.

He joined the army.

The military knew of his past, of the massacre that had torn through the Sky family.

But in a world overrun with demons, the armyʼs mandate was clear: Protect the world.

They had no time to hunt down seemingly rogue individuals.

Their focus was on the ever growing threat of the demons, not retribution against those who had dared to strike back.

And just like Anthony, Kingsley tore through every challenge, every trial, every obstacle that stood in his way.

It was effortless.

For him, victory was never in question.

Kingsley had now served in the military for over twenty years.

In that time, his name became synonymous with power, his will like an undying fire that burned through the ranks, both feared and revered.

Enemies spoke his name with dread, while allies whispered it with a mix of awe and caution.

At the age of one hundred and ten, Kingsley Sky had become a living legend.

As Anthony sifted through the list of Kingsleyʼs abilities, his eyes flickered with a momentary surprise.

ʼHow does the author keep introducing these overpowered characters?ʼ

The thought flitted through his mind, but his expression remained unchanged, cool, impassive.

Thanks to his thought acceleration skill, all the information ran through his mind in a matter of a second.