MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 508: Bonding Moment

Chapter 508: Bonding Mont

The conversation flowed with ease among them, a seamless blend of laughter and reflection. Anecdotes surfaced now and then, so laced with embarrassnt, others etched with power, each one offering a glimpse into pivotal monts of their lives.

As always, Anthony was quick to act, purchasing food and alcohol from his system with practiced flair. Though none of them felt particularly hungry, appetite was a different matter entirely, temptation, after all, needed no invitation.

The discussion gradually deepened, turning toward life-altering experiences, monts when the trajectory of their paths had veered sharply from what they had once envisioned.

But such monts, they all agreed, rarely ca without cost. More often than not, they were soaked in blood and accompanied by the hollow ache of lost loved ones.

Surprisingly, Kingsley had begun to open up, if only slightly, speaking for the first ti about his family. His brother. His father. The banishnt he endured. His lack of talent. The assassination he once faced... and the improbable revival that followed.

In that mont, sothing clicked in Spectre and Clent’s minds. When Anthony had once called Kingsley the universe’s favourite son, it had sounded like re hyperbole. But now, with each word Kingsley shared, that title began to make undeniable sense.

After all, none of them were strangers to Enlightennt.

Anthony, however, was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected Kingsley to speak of his past, at least not so soon.

’It seems he’s beginning to open up... little by little.’ Anthony thought inwardly, a subtle smile forming in his mind.

After all, erasing one’s own bloodline with their own hands was not a feat the weak-willed could endure. It demanded a resolve forged in pain, one that carved deep into the soul.

And though Kingsley wore no emotion on his face, Anthony could sense it, the hollowness that clung to him like a shadow, the black hole of silence that echoed within.

The only tether Kingsley seed to have left in this world was his current team. Perhaps that was why he spoke so little; not out of arrogance, but because silence weighed less than sorrow.

He had killed them, his own family, but the burden had not vanished with their deaths. He bore the sin still, a scar that no amount of strength could ever erase.

But Anthony wasn’t the only one taken aback, Dale, Reynold, Seraphim... all of them had been caught off guard. They had expected Kingsley to dismiss the mont with his usual indifference, perhaps with a curt, "I have nothing to add."

But he didn’t.

Still, there were things he didn’t say. He never spoke of killing his brother, Karsley, nor of his father, nor the rest of the Sky family he once belonged to.

Anthony, aware of the unspoken weight behind those absences, remained silent.

It wasn’t his story to tell.

And yet, even the fact that Kingsley had opened up at all, that he had lowered his walls and offered even a glimpse, was a rare gesture of trust.

A quiet, powerful kind of trust.

Spectre, too, shared his own life-altering mont. He spoke of his childhood in the orphanage, of the quiet days before his awakening, of the frailty that marked his early years, and of the ager talent that once defined him.

Then ca the turning point: the sudden discovery of an ancient inheritance, one that reshaped not just his abilities, but his very identity. It was that mont that forged the man he had beco.

He chose to follow the script Anthony had written years ago for the Academy.

Clent followed suit, albeit reluctantly. True to form, he had intended to remain silent, to let the mont pass without contribution.

But Anthony wouldn’t allow it, he ordered him; through telepathy, to speak.

After all, how could Clent remain untouched, unmoved, when everything around them brimd with raw, unfiltered emotion?

Then, it was Anthony’s turn.

Life changing monts?

He had them, two of them.

The first was his introduction to the famous truck-kun in his first life.

And the second was his eting ???

But Anthony couldn’t speak about these things. These were the greatest secret of his life, they were related to his reincarnation.

It was an unwritten law in the Reincarnation Order that a reincarnator MUST not and SHOULD not speak on anything related to their first life for any reason it may be.

Not for nostalgia. Not for grief. Not even for love.

If he mistakenly spoke about it, who knew whether the Reincarnation Order would send their soldiers from another dinsion or reality to bestow punishnt.

Brushing aside such frivolous thoughts, Anthony responded with composed indifference, stating he had experienced no life-altering monts.

His words left the room in stunned silence. After all, those who ascended to greatness almost always bore the mark of so defining trial, an ordeal that had shaped them into who they had beco.

Faced with their disbelief, Anthony saw no other option but to boast his way through. Painting a portrait of an unblemished life was, in that mont, the only path forward.

He spoke of his lineage, of being the descendant who inherited the combined talents and abilities of four formidable figures in the military. His life, he claid, had been effortless even before his awakening.

From the mont he stepped into the Academy, he dominated without contest, surpassing expectations, completing the so-called Impossible Missions long before anyone else, and ultimately standing unrivaled above the entire golden generation.

After graduation, he adopted a false na and vanished into the world as an adventurer. Even then, with nothing but his katana and a single month to his na, he ascended the ranks, once again, to the very top.

No monts shaped him, he shaped the monts.

Everyone turned their gaze toward him, and a single unspoken thought echoed in their minds: ’Of course, born into such a lineage, how could his life be anything but effortless?’

Amid the shifting mood, Seraphim voiced a question that had long troubled her. She had always been curious, how could Anthony wield Spiritual Energy when he wasn’t even half-elf?

Anthony didn’t shy away from the inquiry. With characteristic calm, he explained that his unique physique granted him access to energies beyond conventional mana.

Then, a stray thought surfaced, he had never once attempted to control Chaos Energy.

But, he felt no doubt that he could. Perhaps one day, he mused, he might even disguise himself as a demon, slipping unnoticed into their world just to experience their lives firsthand, to observe their culture, their habits, their civilization.

’Might make for an interesting vacation... no?’

Anthony smirked at the thought.

Their bonding continued, a quiet but powerful connection forming as trust deepened among them. Ti slipped by unnoticed, hours lting away in the warmth of shared presence.

But such monts are rarely eternal.

The spell was broken by the echo of a door creaking open behind them, a subtle sound, yet one that carried undeniable weight. All eyes turned.

A figure stepped into the room.

A Warlord.

The Human Warlord.

The instant they saw him, whatever remnants of their bonding mont shattered completely. Without hesitation, everyone sprang to their feet, backs straight, arms raised in crisp salute.

He was a Warlord, after all, and they were nothing more than Lieutenants and Privates in comparison.

The Warlord’s gaze swept across the room, lingering briefly on the scattered dishes and half-empty bottles. But he said nothing. There was no reprimand, after all, no rule had been broken, no order defied.

Only silence, heavy with unspoken authority.

The Warlord’s eyes finally settled on Anthony, who stood tall with disciplined precision.

"Lieutenant Anthony. The Supre Monarch demands your presence. Follow ."

He said, his voice calm, composed, carrying the weight of command without the need for force.

Without waiting for acknowledgnt, the Warlord turned and exited the room, his steps asured, never once glancing back.

"Affirmative, sir."

Anthony responded, his voice steady.

He moved toward the door, then paused. Glancing over his shoulder at his teammates, he offered a brief nod.

"I’ll be back later."

He said simply.

With that, he stepped through the doorway, the door closing softly behind him as he followed the Warlord.