MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 506: Nothing

Dale, Reynold, and Seraphim didn’t question Kingsley’s words. If he had said it, then it was true.

The realization hit like a quiet storm, each of them was at the Ecliptic rank, veterans hardened through experience and time. And yet, standing before them were two soldiers bearing the insignia of the Private rank... who were stronger.

’What the hell is the Blue Planet turning into?’

The unspoken thought echoed in all their minds like a collective cry. It had been over three decades since they last set foot on their home planet, a time that predated even the births of Anthony and his mysterious subordinates.

They couldn’t bring themselves to believe that raw resources alone, even if provided by someone like Anthony, could elevate a person to the Ecliptic rank or beyond by the mere age of nineteen.

That kind of leap defied logic, defied principle. And even if such a thing were somehow possible, Kingsley would never have vouched for them. He wasn’t the type to praise hollow husks built on artificial power without true foundation.

Which could only mean one thing.

Spectre and Clement were simply that talented.

Spectre made no attempt to conceal it, subtle yet potent waves of his presence rippled outward, instantly engulfing everyone within range.

Ecliptic rank.

Clement saw no need to release his own aura; Spectre’s alone spoke volumes.

Shock surged through Seraphim, Dale, and Reynold. Their eyes widened, flickering between Spectre and Clement as if struggling to reconcile what they were witnessing.

Then suddenly, something clicked in Seraphim’s mind. She stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly, still laced with disbelief.

"But Spectre... Clement... if you’re both this talented, why are you under Anthony?"

It was an earnest question. From what she could see, the three of them appeared equal, equally gifted, equally young, and standing at the same cultivation realm.

’This is the perfect moment for some aura farming, isn’t it?’ Anthony mused, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. ’Should I just break through here and now just to flex a little?’

The thought entertained him, but he kept it to himself, choosing instead to remain silent, watching, observing, and enjoying the moment.

At Seraphim’s words, both Dale and Reynold gave subtle nods, their expressions echoing the same unspoken question.

Spectre immediately recognized the misunderstanding. He had never said a word about the truth, that he and Clement had once languished at the bottom ranks of the Academy, nor how Anthony had elevated their talent and bestowed them with powerful physiques.

But regardless of how close Seraphim, Dale, Reynold, or even Kingsley were to Anthony, it wasn’t his secret to share.

His mind rapidly cycled through a dozen plausible lies, his Thought Acceleration skill pushing itself harder than it ever had before. freewebnøvel_com

Then, a thought occurred to him. With a calm demeanor and a resigned sigh, Spectre began to speak.

"You know how the world works, talent doesn’t equate to power. In the end, talent is only potential. Clement and I drew attention early on because of our talents, but we had no backing. And without protection, joining the wrong faction meant being shackled for life under a mana contract."

He paused briefly, his gaze steady.

"Anthony was the best choice. He was a fellow student, someone we already knew from the Academy’s top rankings. It made sense... and more importantly, we trusted him."

As his words settled in the air, the others slowly nodded. They understood. The world preyed on talented children without support, binding them through coercive mana contracts and robbing them of freedom.

’But if the other forces chose to back off... doesn’t that mean Anthony’s backing was powerful enough to monopolize talents of this level?’

The thought quietly settled in the minds of Seraphim, Dale, Reynold, and even Kingsley. It was hard to ignore. After all, Anthony had once hinted at his mysterious backing during their journey to the Bleeding Hollow Zone.

Meanwhile, Anthony watched the scene unfold, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

’Wow... I never knew Spectre could blend truth and lie so effortlessly.’

He mused, quietly impressed.

With that thought lingering in the air, Dale couldn’t help but voice the question pressing on all their minds.

"Who exactly stands behind Anthony... to make the other forces hesitate, even with talents like you and Clement at his side?"

Spectre met his gaze calmly, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Anthony’s full name is Null Anthony, the first and only heir of the Null family. Son of the Sword Saint and the Elemental Destruction Queen. Grandson of the Lightning God and the Saintess of the World."

Of course, Spectre would never have dared to reveal such information without Anthony’s permission. When Dale asked about Anthony’s backing, his initial response had already formed in his mind, he was going to deflect, say it wasn’t his place to speak.

But just before the words left his lips, Anthony’s voice echoed in his mind through a telepathic link, calm and composed.

’Go ahead.’

With that silent permission, Spectre adjusted course, offering the truth with quiet smile.

The entire space seemed to freeze the moment Spectre’s words fell. Even Kingsley, ever composed, sat motionless, his expression suspended in stunned silence. For a brief heartbeat, time itself appeared to hold its breath.

Who didn’t know those names?

On the Blue Planet, they were legends. In the military, they were revered as Supreme Monarchs, figures who shaped the tides of history and war with their mere presence.

Slowly, all eyes turned to Anthony, their gazes heavy with disbelief and awe.

Anthony met them calmly, unfazed, his piercing blue eyes steady and unreadable.

There was no longer any reason to hide it. In truth, there never had been.

Anthony’s teammates stared at him as if he were some mythical beast in human skin. Suddenly, it all made sense, how he had leapt from the rank of Private to Lieutenant without completing a single mission.

With that kind of backing, the military wasn’t a proving ground, it was his playground.

Yet none of them spoke. They simply stood there, gazes fixed on him, as though waiting, expecting him to say something, to explain, to bridge the chasm between the Anthony they thought they knew... and the one standing before them now.

Because clearly, the Anthony of before and the Anthony of now couldn’t possibly be the same person.

"I know I’m handsome, no need to stare. You’ve been looking at this face every day."

Anthony said with a teasing smile, breaking the tension with his usual ease.

"I... Is it true?"

Reynold finally asked, his voice quiet but strained, as though needing to hear the confirmation from Anthony himself.

"It is."

Anthony replied with a light chuckle.

"Don’t make such a big fuss over nothing."

That last sentence nearly made them want to slap the sense back into him.

Nothing?

He just referred to being backed by three Supreme Monarchs and the Saintess of the World as nothing.

But alas, even if they wanted to, they were far too weak to do anything about it.

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