MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 477: Drama

At the pinnacle of the Tower of Knowledge, upon its highest floor, the Soulpen Sovereign stood motionless by the window, his gaze fixed upon the unfolding spectacle below.

Neither intervening nor altering the course of events, he remained a silent observer, a cup of coffee cradled in his hand.

To him, the chaos below played out like a grand performance, an immersive drama viewed from the comfort of a private theater.

”Aren’t we going to intervene?”

One of the Soulpen Sovereigns inquired, his gaze detached and unconcerned.

The assembly of Sovereigns, each presiding over a different floor of the Tower Of Knowledge, had convened upon the summit, drawn together for an unobstructed view of the unfolding events below.

”Our sole duty is to safeguard the Tower of Knowledge. Nothing beyond that”

Another responded, shaking his head with a quiet calmness.

”Precisely. If we, the elders, constantly intervene to rescue the juniors, how then will they ever rise to become the future stewards of our world, of our galaxy?”

A third Sovereign remarked thoughtfully, his hands deftly crafting a fountain pen at the nearby table.

”Besides, we have always preferred to sit back and observe. It is a rare spectacle of such magnitude, why not savor it with a refreshing drink?”

One Sovereign remarked casually, a hint of amusement in his tone.

”Moreover, the Null heir displays remarkable talent”

Another added cooly, their gaze drifting toward Anthony as he moved tirelessly among the wounded, healing soldiers without a moment’s hesitation.

They conversed about the ongoing war and the notable performances of its key players, their detached commentary resembling that of spectators watching a grand drama unfold, or beings observing the struggles of lesser entities.

Suddenly, every Soulpen Sovereign’s gaze snapped upward, their eyes converging across the distance to the vast expanse of outer space, where Xezural had activated the ancient runes.

”Hooo... it appears someone has taken to destroying the planet”

One of them remarked casually, as if commenting on nothing more than an unexpected plot twist in an ongoing performance.

_______

”When did you plan this?”

Sylmira’s voice was sharp, her expression darkened with fury. Through the protective dome, she could feel the planet’s slow unraveling, its destruction unfolding before her eyes.

What stoked her anger even further was that Xezural had orchestrated this devastation right under her nose. He had inscribed the runes, initiating the cataclysm without her knowledge.

Her mind raced through the grim tally of impending casualties. Millions of soldiers poised to be annihilated. Countless children on the Blue Planet destined to become orphans once the base crumbled.

When, in all recorded history, had a military base ever fallen?

The answer was unequivocal: NEVER.

Not a single base had ever been breached, until now, and under her vigilant watch.

Under the watch of the Chakram of End, the Sixth Supreme Monarch.

She could not endure such a loss without exacting retribution.

Her Spiritual Energy surged violently, mana cascading like a tempest, her Intent a suffocating force that overwhelmed all in its path.

The decision was made, she would unleash an all out assault to end Xezural once and for all.

”It’s futile, Chakram Of End”

Xezural’s voice cut through the air as another orb materialized in his hand.

Zeroframe Shift

Without hesitation, Sylmira lunged forward at her maximum speed, desperate to thwart whatever scheme he was enacting.

But it was too late.

With a cruel snap, Xezural shattered the orb.

A crimson ripple of energy radiated outward, spreading for kilometers before recoiling with blinding speed.

It collapsed around both Xezural and Sylmira, manifesting as a colossal barrier in the shape of a box, imprisoning them within its unbreakable walls.

Sylmira’s brow furrowed as she felt her vitality, mana, and Spiritual Energy being siphoned away by the barrier.

A terrible weariness washed over her, she was aging rapidly.

Without hesitation, she reached for her space ring, withdrawing a delicate piece of parchment. With a swift motion, she tore it in two.

The paper shimmered faintly; the very fabric of space trembled. Yet, to her dismay, nothing happened.

She frowned deeply. The artifact was designed to overcome spatial constraints and enable instantaneous teleportation, but now, it had failed her.

”It’s useless. No living being within this barrier can escape until death claims them”

Xezural’s voice echoed, his tone unnervingly calm.

Sylmira’s eyes narrowed sharply.

”Doesn’t that mean you will perish as well?”

A faint, almost resigned smile touched her lips.

”I will. But that matters little. Even if I survive, I would be relentlessly hunted should I fail to retrieve the Severed Crown of Echoes. Yet, as the architect of this barrier, I shall be the last to fall. At least I am granted the grim privilege of witnessing my enemies’ demise before my own”

Xezural hovered serenely, his spear and killing intent vanished as if he had surrendered to the inevitable. His expression bore the solemn acceptance of one who had made peace with his fate.

Sylmira harbored deep doubts about Xezural’s words, after all, a demon’s words were rarely anything more than veiled falsehoods.

Yet, she could sense his vitality and chaotic energy waning, albeit at a far slower pace than her own.

She observed him, floating there with an unsettling indifference, as if resigned to the inevitability of death.

Her mind raced, cycling through countless escape plans, but each attempt proved futile against the barrier.

Xezural remained silent, his gaze fixed upon her struggles, offering no hint of sympathy or intervention.

Sylmira’s hair abruptly began to turn white, her body aging with alarming rapidity the more she resisted.

But, the fire in her eyes refused to dim; her will remained unbroken. Her gaze locked onto Xezural, who, too, bore the marks of significant aging.

Her thoughts drifted to the child she had longed for, the innocent life she had yearned to nurture, to shower with love.

”Goodbye, Chakram Of End”

Xezural spoke coldly as he watched Sylmira’s form crumble into dust.

Then, in an instant, his demeanor shifted, his face contorted with urgent resolve.

”I hope this works. I must act swiftly”

From his space ring, he produced a worn, brown tome. His movements were frantic and lightning-fast, knowing failing to complete his task would condemn him to death by the advance of old age.

Without hesitation, he tore open his chest, letting his blood cascade over the ancient tome.

[Forbidden Ancient Technique: Soul Splitting Reincarnation]

He began to chant, and the moment the incantation left his lips, the book erupted in an intense black radiance that engulfed the entire dome.

Xezural’s body finally collapsed, disintegrating into dust as the very barrier he had created claimed his life.

A jagged crack traced the perimeter of the dome, spreading rapidly before the entire structure shattered into shards of radiant light.

From the ruins of the dome, a solitary soul materialized swift and ethereal, propelled forward by an unseen, enigmatic force.

Xezural had never intended to fight to the death.

His true plan was to escape, from everyone, from the ones who commanded him from above, from all who sought to control him.

He had uncovered the Soul Splitting Technique deep within the ruins of an ancient civilization he had long ago discovered.

But, the reincarnation ritual demanded an immense reservoir of energy. Normally, Xezural would have gathered millions of high-ranking demons, siphoning their combined energy to fuel the spell.

But this technique did not draw upon chaos energy. It required an overwhelming surge of pure mana and vitality.

Xezural meticulously studied the runes that accompanied the technique, carefully etching them onto the surface of the military base’s planet.

With millions of high-ranking cultivators inhabiting it, the planet was the perfect reservoir of energy.

These runes, though disguised as symbols of destruction, were in fact designed to siphon the vital energies necessary for the reincarnation ritual.

If Xezural truly intended to annihilate the military base, he need not have spent millennia planning, a single devastating attack was enough to reduce the entire planet to mere rubble in an instant.

Sealing himself within the barrier alongside Sylmira was nothing more than a calculated ruse to fake his own demise.