MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 323: Inevitable

Two days passed in the blink of an eye as the aircraft soared at full speed.

Anthony gradually stirred from his slumber, his consciousness drifting back from yet another journey through the realm of dreams.

After swiftly completing his usual morning routine, bathing and refreshing himself, he settled by the window, gazing out.

A glass of wine rested elegantly in his hand as he admired the vast expanse of the galaxy.

His eyes widened in quiet awe, reflecting the glow of distant planets, shimmering stars, and celestial wonders scattered across the cosmic tapestry.

Seated with his legs crossed, Anthony exuded a serene tranquility, utterly engrossed in the breathtaking view.

But the peace was fleeting.

The soft hum of the sliding doors disrupted the silence, announcing the arrival of another presence.

It was Mitchelle.

"Reverting back to your lazy phase the moment work is done. What did I expect?"

She remarked, her tone laced with mild exasperation.

Anthony didn’t turn.

Instead, a small, knowing smile played on his lips as he continued to gaze ahead.

"You don’t expect me to be cultivating at this very moment, do you?"

He replied with a soft chuckle, the amusement in his voice undeniable.

Mitchelle stepped forward, coming to a halt beside him.

With a mere thought, shimmering crystals materialized in the air, seamlessly shaping themselves into an elegant seat.

She lowered herself onto it with effortless grace.

"Well… your father has been proudly declaring that his blood runs through your veins"

She mused, her tone carrying a hint of amusement.

"So I assumed you’d be cultivating, or at the very least, digesting your gains from the tournament. Or have you already done so?"

As she spoke, a bottle of fine wine and a glass materialized in her hand, appearing as effortlessly as her conjured seat.

Anthony remained unfazed, his gaze still fixed on the endless stretch of space before him.

"I didn’t gain anything during the tournament"

He replied matter of factly, his voice steady and unbothered.

"So there’s nothing to digest"

But in truth, Anthony had gained far more than he let on.

He had absorbed invaluable insights, Aaaninja’s superior control over time, fragments of Lucian’s techniques and skills stolen mid battle.

With his exceptional talent, he had processed and integrated every lesson in the very moment he experienced them.

There was nothing left to digest because he had already mastered it all.

Mitchelle smiled knowingly.

She could see through his lie with ease.

Her heightened perception allowed her to pick up the subtlest of details, yet she chose not to press him on it.

"Hmm… then I suppose your father’s blood doesn’t run in your veins after all"

She mused, taking a slow sip of her wine.

"He never walks away from a battle, whether as a spectator or a participant, without gaining something"

A teasing glint flickered in her eyes as she leaned forward slightly.

"Well, at least you aren’t a brute like him"

She added, ruffling Anthony’s hair.

Anthony immediately recoiled, a flicker of tiredness flashing across his face.

He had just combed it moments ago.

Mitchelle chuckled at his reaction, swirling the wine in her glass.

"At least you enjoyed yourself"

She remarked, her voice carrying a note of satisfaction.

Anthony was just about to respond when the ship’s mechanical voice echoed throughout the cabin.

"An aircraft has been trailing us for the past two hours. This suggests we are being followed"

As the words reverberated through the vessel, a shift in atmosphere became palpable.

Some faces tensed, the weight of the revelation settling in.

Mitchelle, who had been seated beside Anthony, gracefully rose from her crystalline chair.

Her expression remained composed, but a glint of sharpness flickered in her eyes.

"Wait here"

She instructed, her voice firm yet calm.

Without another word, she turned and strode out of the room, her steps carrying an air of effortless authority.

In the control room, where Collins and the rest of the delegation sat in quiet contemplation, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension.

The doors slid open, and Mitchelle stepped in with a commanding presence.

"Who is following us?"

She asked immediately, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room.

"We don’t know yet"

Collins replied, his tone calm but laced with caution.

A quiet sigh followed, then Iserios’ voice cut through the air.

"So it really is inevitable, huh?"

Collins didn’t hesitate.

"Change course. Land on the nearest planet"

"Affirmative"

The ship’s mechanical voice responded, and within moments, a subtle shift coursed through the vessel as it altered its trajectory.

Silence settled over the aircraft, yet the atmosphere had shifted.

The tension was palpable, a quiet storm brewing beneath composed exteriors.

They all knew what was coming.

They were prepared to respond.

But amidst the thick unease, two figures wore wide grins—Gorath and Michael.

While the others remained focused, bracing for what lay ahead, the two radiated an almost unsettling excitement, as if they welcomed the confrontation.

The aircraft descended, touching down upon solid ground.

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With a mechanical hiss, the hatch slowly opened, unveiling the world beyond.

One by one, they stepped out, moving in synchronized purpose.

They stood side by side in a unified line, their presence exuding quiet dominance.

Trailing just behind them was Anthony, his expression unreadable, cold, detached, and unwavering.

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Michael turned to Mitchelle, his gaze sharp with unspoken intent.

"Stay with him"

He instructed.

Mitchelle was about to nod when Anthony’s voice cut through the air.

"No need"

Before anyone could respond, his form flickered, and then, in an instant, he was gone.

He had stepped into the Mirror Dimension, his presence vanishing like a whisper in the wind.

His last words echoed in the silence.

"I will be watching"

A brief stillness followed.

Even Michael and Mitchelle, despite their immense power and the marks they had placed on him, could no longer sense his existence.

It was as if he had ceased to be.

At the very least, their greatest concern, having to protect Anthony in the midst of what was to come, had just been lifted.

Unless, of course, the enemy decided to undo that solution.

There was no time for surprise.

Before they could even process Anthony’s disappearance, another ship descended, its presence casting an ominous shadow over the land.

The vessel landed with precision, and from within emerged familiar faces, figures whose mere presence made the air feel heavier, suffocating even.

Their aura was immense, an unspoken declaration of dominance.

Their eyes, cold and condescending, scanned the delegates of the Blue Planet as if gazing upon lesser beings, unworthy of standing before them.

Then, a voice, dripping with arrogance, echoed through the air.

"Just hand it over, and we shall bless you with the mercy of leaving you alive. I do not have the time to watch your pitiful existence struggle to survive"

Yet, as always, the delegates of the Blue Planet did not dignify such arrogance with words.

Their silence alone was answer enough.

"It seems I will still have to stain my hands with your filthy blood"

The words dripped with disdain as the Eclipsian delegate spoke, his arrogance mirroring that of Selunara.

Yes.

This was the true nature of the conflict.

The Eclipsians had moved against the Blue Planet, their greed driving them to seize the hard earned resources by force.

This was the real Starborn Tournament, not just a test of strength and skill within the arena, but a battle for survival beyond it.

Winning the resources was only the first step.

Bringing them home was the true challenge.

The delegates of the Blue Planet had anticipated this.

They had always known that this moment would come.

It was precisely why Collins had taken Anthony before he could even turn back to his elf girlfriend.

There had been no time for sentimental goodbyes.

He had wanted to leave immediately.

To return before the inevitable pursuit could begin.

And yet, here they were.

In the vast hierarchy of cosmic power, the rules of survival were brutal and unspoken.

Any force that broke into the top ten, yet did not belong to the galaxy’s dominant races, became a target.

The Celestials, Voidwalkers, and other top tier races were exempt from such predation.

Their status alone ensured their safety.

None would dare challenge them.

But forces like Charles Evander?

Ordinarily, they would be prime targets.

However, this time, even the most reckless of opportunists dared not make a move against them.

The Spirit King himself had issued a warning, a decree that none were foolish enough to ignore.

And so, the Eclipsians had set their sights elsewhere.

Their prey of choice?

The Blue Planet.

The ones with the best resources.

Meanwhile, races that hadn’t even made it to the top ten, like the Aetherians, would now turn their gaze toward weaker top ten contenders, seeking an easier prize, perhaps the Terramorphs or the Cryonids.

This was the unspoken second phase of the Starborn Tournament, a ruthless struggle where only the strong, the prepared, and the truly formidable would make it home.

The delegates of the Blue Planet drew their weapons, their resolve unwavering.

Yet, the Eclipsians did not.

Their arrogance was not just an act—it was deeply rooted, and, in many ways, justified.

But that only made Michael and Gorath’s grins widen.

Gorath had long anticipated this.

Ever since the Bloodbath, he had been waiting for the chance to sink his fists into an opponent worthy of his strength.

As for Michael, his reasons were far simpler.

He was simply eager to swing his sword at someone’s neck.

At first glance, the battlefield seemed balanced, a seven versus seven match.

But reality was often cruel and disappointing

The Eclipsians’ unique ability made this fight a staggering fourteen versus seven battle.

Yet, none of the Blue Planet’s warriors flinched.

And in the Mirror Dimension…

Anthony watched with a casual grin, reclining in mid air on a floating chair, a bowl of popcorn in hand.

For the first time, he was about to witness his family truly fight.

And with that—

They vanished, each warrior flashing toward their chosen opponent, the battlefield erupting into a blur of movement.