MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 540: Chalk

Two days had passed within Military Base Alpha-9. During these two days, the team did nothing but remain on high alert... well, not everyone in the team, only Dale, Reynold, and Seraphim.

The rest remained extremely calm, almost unnaturally so.

But nothing happened during those two days, just as Anthony had predicted. Demons didn’t invade, no new crisis arose, and there was literally no change in their environment or situation.

Yet, Dale, Reynold, and Seraphim refused to let their guards down for even a second.

They trained like never before, pushing their limits to the edge. They sparred repeatedly with Spectre, since Kingsley and Clement couldn’t be bothered to engage them in combat.

Seraphim had even asked Anthony for his assistance to deepen her control over Spiritual Energy, but Anthony, being as lazy as ever, simply sent a clone to guide her and demonstrate a few basic principles.

Inside the training room, four figures moved at incredible speed. Rather, it was three against one at this point. Dale, Reynold, and Seraphim had joined forces in a spar against Spectre.

Their movements tore through the air with terrifying precision. The sound of metal clashing reverberated loudly, sharp bursts exploding in the air, while a shower of sparks illuminated the surrounding space.

Streaks of motion danced throughout the room, each one precise, each one deadly.

Sonic detonations followed every strike that collapsed upon Spectre, but he evaded each one effortlessly, moving like a whisper against their force. Mana and Spiritual Energy collided violently.

Elemental forces burst into life, blurs of fire, lightning, shadows, and light, each combatant unleashing their own power.

A rapier screeched through the air, screaming toward Spectre, but he calmly parried it with barely a movement. Yet he wasn’t granted a moment of rest, illusions appeared throughout the training room, surrounding him from all directions, each illusion raining down daggers at his position.

But Spectre didn’t even react. He stood still and allowed the fake attacks to connect with his body. As the illusions struck him, they instantly shattered, fading into nothingness.

From beneath his feet, darkness coiled upward like tendrils, seeking to bind him in place. Still, Spectre didn’t move. He remained calm. The very next second, a spear came crashing down from above like a meteor, its momentum devastating.

But Spectre didn’t flinch... he couldn’t. He just watched.

Just as the spear was about to connect with his body, reality seemed to blink, and suddenly, Reynold stood where Spectre had been, while Spectre now occupied Reynold’s previous position.

Spectre didn’t turn to look or pause. The moment he appeared in his new position, he vanished again, his figure blipping forward.

He appeared directly in front of Seraphim, as though the space between them had been erased like chalk wiped off a board.

Seraphim’s senses screamed. Her Spiritual Energy bent under control as constructs formed around her. A barrier rapidly expanded, attempting to halt the katana racing toward her neck.

But it was futile. Spectre’s katana tore through the barrier like an avalanche against a candle’s flame. However, that single split second of resistance was all Seraphim needed.

Her Spiritual Energy surged, and the barrier detonated in a violent explosion, flinging her backward with immense force.

But before her body could travel any meaningful distance, she felt a chill return to her spine. Spiritual Energy bent again, and this time chains erupted into existence, halting Spectre’s advance mid-motion.

Seraphim spun midair. Her fist, imbued with energy, tore through space like a bullet train, rocketing toward Spectre’s head.

Spectre watched with calm, black eyes, unfazed. To him, Seraphim’s attack moved as slowly as a drifting leaf.

Just as her punch was about to connect, reality blinked again, and suddenly, Dale found himself staring into a fist.

It connected with his nose before he could even react.

As for Spectre, his katana was already pressed lightly against Reynold’s neck. Reynold stood speechless, processing what had just happened. Then he let out a helpless smile and nodded, conceding his loss.

Before Seraphim could react to Dale’s sudden appearance before her, clearly disoriented, Spectre reappeared behind her. His palm was raised high above his head.

Seraphim sensed him, but her body refused to respond in time. Or rather... it was simply too late.

Spectre’s strike came crashing down from above. The edge of his palm landed cleanly on her shoulder blade. Her knees buckled beneath her as she dropped to the ground with futile resistance.

But Spectre was gone again.

Dale’s eyes widened. His senses screamed, instincts roaring as blood surged forward. But before his instincts could fully react, his blood red eyes caught sight of a single black line, a flash, and then he felt it.

Pain.

It exploded in his mind. Both of his arms disconnected from his shoulders in an instant. But Dale didn’t scream. As a vampire, pain was something they had long grown used to. Even in agony, he gritted his teeth and stood his ground.

With a thud, his severed hands hit the floor. Blood spurted violently from the wounds, but the next second, Dale’s regeneration kicked in. Flesh twisted and danced with bone and blood, rebuilding what had been lost.

Spectre stood in silence, his back turned to the team. His katana had been sheathed. His black eyes were as calm as a still lake. He wore a black haori that swayed gently on his shoulders, resting over his standard military uniform.

He had only decided to assist the team with their training because he had nothing else to do.

Meanwhile, Anthony was spending his days wandering from cafe to cafe, searching for something, or someone, he couldn’t quite name. Clement simply sat in silence, unmoving, like a statue lost in thought. Kingsley, on the other hand, spent his time sleeping without a care in the world.

’I should ask him to allow me train under Warlord Raelith for a while. It would help me a lot,’ Spectre thought, standing motionless.

After hearing Anthony’s words about their spar and how Warlord Raelith had a group of students he trained personally, Spectre became intrigued.

Not because he wanted to become Warlord Raelith’s student... no, that wasn’t it. He simply wanted to devour all the man had to offer. Every technique, every experience, every insight, he wanted them all.

Since he couldn’t get them from Anthony, he would get them from the next best person.

His hair flowed gently behind his back as he turned to face his new teammates. He hadn’t joined them on any missions yet; he was waiting patiently for the team to receive their official ranks.

Until then, he would observe... and train.