MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 426: Consequences

A surge of energy rippled through the air the instant the crown materialized above the Executionerʼs hand.

At its emergence, every gaze was irresistibly drawn to it, it hovered mere centimeters above his outstretched palm.

The crown shimmered with lustrous gold, its surface inscribed with ancient, obsidian runes that pulsed with primordial power.

Each rune thrummed with arcane resonance, murmuring secrets of dominion and destruction.

Majestic yet foreboding, the crown radiated an aura of sovereign dread, as though kingship itself grieved for its destined bearer.

It cast an entrancing spell upon all who dared to look, ensnaring their senses in silent awe.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, the Executioner extended his hand forward.

As if obeying an unspoken command, the Severed Crown of Echoes drifted through the air, gliding toward Anthony.

Upon reaching him, it remained suspended, levitating mere inches before his face, still thrumming with an energy both ancient and unearthly.

This energy was unlike anything Anthony had ever felt.

It resonated with a frequency alien to his senses, unfamiliar yet overwhelming.

He dared not reach for it.

In that fleeting moment, a subtle observation pierced his thoughts, since its manifestation, not even the Executioner had laid a finger upon the crown.

A detail easily overlooked, yet Anthony had caught it.

ʼOP System, give me the detailsʼ

Anthony commanded internally.

[Ding]

[Affirmative, Host]

[Artifact Identified: Severed Crown of Echoes

Description

An ancient Soul-Tethering Artifact once wielded by the forgotten cult known as The Order of Killing Silence, originating from a higher-dimensional galaxy.

Forged in the twilight of fractured realities, the crown serves as a conduit between realms, linking the minds of its bearers with the echoes of lost timelines, tethered souls, and the lingering remnants of collapsed dimensions.

Effects

• Grants the wielder perception of temporal echoes, glimpses of the past, fragmented dialogues, and rare flashes of divergent futures.

• Functions as a dimensional beacon, allowing the creation of ʼecho riftsʼ, gateways to forsaken or unreachable realms.

• Harnesses essence from fractured dimensions, drawing upon forgotten memories and broken truths to empower its bearer

Limitations

• Visions are inherently unstable, frequently intertwining truth with illusion, making discernment perilous.

• Continuous whispers plague the wielderʼs mind, mimicking familiar voices to sow doubt and erode sanity.

• The crown passively siphons surrounding energy sources to maintain its connection to other realms.

• Extended use may lead to irreversible cognitive degradation, hallucinations, or complete loss of identity]

As Anthony absorbed the systemʼs revelations, his mind fell into stunned silence, utterly blank beneath the weight of what he had just read.

A frigid chill coursed down his spine, and for a moment, it felt as though his very blood had frozen.

Thoughts spiraled into grim predictions, visions of devastation, of a world plunged into chaos, if such a relic were ever to fall into demonic hands.

The consequences would be nothing short of apocalyptic.

The military would crumble, and the very fabric of the Blue Planet could tear beneath the burden of such power unleashed.

With the Severed Crown of Echoes capable of peering into fragmented remnants of the past, the implications were catastrophic.

In demonic hands, the crown would become a weapon of insidious precision.

They could unearth the locations of concealed strongholds, secured armories, and deeply classified military installations, secrets painstakingly buried across generations.

Historical battle strategies, long-lost tactical movements, and black-ops operations thought erased from existence would be laid bare, vulnerable to exploitation.

No secret would remain sacred, no safe haven truly hidden.

By exploiting the crownʼs ability to open ʼecho riftsʼ, the demons could bypass spatial defenses with ease, slipping through fortified barriers, infiltrating restricted zones, or reclaiming ancient weapons and forbidden knowledge once thought sealed or annihilated.

Through echoes of forgotten conversations and concealed truths, they could manipulate, or outright blackmail, key military figures.

With carefully chosen revelations, they could discredit commanders, fracture alliances, and seed mistrust among even the most unified of forces.

The crown was not merely a relic, it was a harbinger of subversion, capable of unraveling empires from within.

The more Anthony dwelled on it, the faster his thoughts raced, his mind spiraling through a cascade of consequences, each more dire than the last.

If the Severed Crown of Echoes fell into the demonsʼ hands, the fallout would be immeasurable.

And this was only the beginning.

With their cunning and insatiable thirst for destruction, who could predict the full extent of what the demons might achieve?

They would twist the crownʼs power beyond its known limits, weaponizing time itself.

It wouldnʼt just be a threat to a singular race or Domain

They could plunge the entire Blue Planet into utter ruin.

Though the crownʼs limitations appeared severe, Anthony knew better than to take comfort in them.

The demons would simply rotate wielders, discarding one the moment their mind began to fracture, replacing them without hesitation. To them, sanity was expendable.

What made it far worse was that the ʼSevered Crown of Echoesʼ was compatible with all energy types.

There were no restrictions.

No barriers. No safeguards.

By now, Anthonyʼs once-detached expression had hardened into a grim frown.

Normally, he wouldnʼt have spared a thought for strangers, let alone the fate of people heʼd never met.

But this... this was different.

This threatened everything.

His father, his mother, and even his grandfather, each among the exalted Supreme Monarchs.

Who was to say the demons wouldnʼt target them first?

The Supreme Monarchs were the very pillars upholding the worldʼs military strongholds.

Cripple them, and the foundations would collapse.

Or worse, they might set their sights on his grandmother: the Saintess Of The World.

A woman whispered about in reverent tones, rumored to possess the power to reverse death itself.

Would the demons truly allow someone of that magnitude to walk the earth alive?

Anthony exhaled slowly, closing his eyes in an effort to still the storm raging in his mind.

The temptation to hide the artifact himself clawed at Anthonyʼs mind.

Could he really entrust it to anyone else?

He dared not believe that Alpha-6, a military base of such scale, was free of traitors.

No matter how disciplined they appeared, not all were bound by Mana Contracts.

And those who were had likely stumbled upon truths far beyond clearance, truths wrapped in silence and sealed by fear.

What if the demons had already turned one of them? Sent a loyal puppet to retrieve the Severed Crown of Echoes from within?

No, this wasnʼt a what if.

This was certainty.

The demons would act.

They had to.

There was no way theyʼd allow the crown to slip through their fingers, especially not when they clearly understood its function… and had known its location all along.

But alas, he couldnʼt claim the artifact for himself, not anymore.

He was military now. Bound by duty, by rank, by chain of command.

If this had been a solo mission, he mightʼve concealed the Severed Crown of Echoes without hesitation, burying it where no one, demon or any other race, could reach.

The more Anthony dwelled on the consequences, the deeper his frown became.

The rest of the squad remained silent, their eyes shifting between him and the artifact.

They had seen Anthony face horrors with a cold, unreadable calm.

For him to show emotion, especially this growing frown, meant the floating crown before them wasnʼt just dangerous.

It was something far worse.

”Captain”

Seraphimʼs voice broke through Anthonyʼs spiraling thoughts.

Snapping back to the present, Anthony blinked, exhaling softly as his mind settled.

His gaze, still heavy with the weight of impending decisions, once again fixed upon the Severed Crown of Echoes.

Without a momentʼs hesitation, he extended his hand and gently touched the crown.

The moment his palm made contact, a faint, invisible mark, visible only to him, flashed across the surface.

The Spatial Mark.

A simple but powerful marker.

Even if the crown were to fall into the hands of demons, Anthony would always be able to track it, no matter how far it traveled, or where it hid.

With a decisive wave of his hand, the Severed Crown of Echoes vanished, its form slipping seamlessly into his system inventory.

”Iʼm fine”

Anthony finally replied to Seraphim, his voice steady.

Yet, the moment the words left his mouth, an eerie stillness settled over the group, almost as if his very declaration had jinxed the moment.

Then it happened.