MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 548: Sayonara

Chapter 548: Sayonara

Seraphim’s gaze shifted toward the being that appeared to be bathed in golden radiance, seated comfortably atop Anthony’s head. With a furrowed brow and a tinge of curiosity, she asked, "Anthony, who is that... or rather, what exactly is that?"

It was at that mont that Anthony finally rembered that Romulus was still perched on his head. He often forgot the man’s presence because, oddly enough, no matter how he moved his head, tilted it, turned it, or even nodded, Romulus remained perfectly undisturbed.

It was as if no force in reality could affect him. He simply sat there, as steady as a mountain, defying logic.

"Ahhh," Anthony muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "It seems I forgot to introduce him to you all. This is Romulus, a fla spirit, more precisely, the Emperor of Flas," he said calmly, his tone casual, almost dismissive.

He deliberately avoided going into full detail about Romulus’s true nature. If he did, he was sure most of them would think he was exaggerating again.

"I always knew you could wield Spiritual Energy, but I didn’t know you were capable of summoning spirits too," Reynold said, stepping forward out of curiosity. His eyes sparkled with interest as his hand reached out toward Romulus.

In a flash, Reynold’s body was launched backwards like a cannonball. The sudden burst of repelling force was so violent that his back collided with the wall behind him, producing a thunderous crack. But the wall couldn’t withstand such impact, his body tore straight through it, debris flying as he smashed into the hallway beyond.

He remained there for a few seconds, lying motionless in the wreckage, before calmly rising to his feet. Dust clung to his face, which he casually wiped off. As for the dirt on his military uniform, it was automatically removed thanks to the fabric’s auto-cleaning enchantnt.

Reynold was completely uninjured. Of course, a simple wall was nothing to soone like him, a phoenix of remarkably high mana rank.

Anthony’s lips twitched slightly in amusent. He couldn’t help but wonder if Reynold had lost his mind. Even though he had refrained from revealing Romulus’s true identity, he had still referred to him as the Emperor of Flas. And yet, Reynold had attempted to touch such a being?

Even Anthony himself couldn’t recall a ti he had ever laid a hand on Romulus. Not once.

Everyone in the room watched in silence as Reynold dusted himself off and returned to his seat without so much as a word or a change in expression.

As for Romulus, his golden form remained still and upright. His face was emotionless, his bearing regal. He sat with an air of absolute authority, unshaken and unaffected.

"It seems your spirit is... very strong," Dale remarked with a nervous chuckle. He swallowed hard. Before Reynold had tried, he himself had been considering reaching out to touch the spirit.

"He’s not called the Emperor of Flas for no reason," Anthony said with a sigh. "He’s an incredibly prideful being. Not just anyone, or even soone, can casually touch him."

"When did you summon him? How co we’ve never seen him before now?" Seraphim asked, already scrutinizing Romulus with calculating eyes.

Although she couldn’t summon spirits in the traditional sense, she did possess a unique Spirit Art that allowed her to call upon four elental spirits and fuse with them temporarily. This fusion drastically enhanced her combat abilities, but the thod differed greatly from conventional spirit summoning.

"I’ve had him since I was fifteen," Anthony answered. "But he rarely ever cos out. Most opponents aren’t even worth his attention."

"Seraphim, why don’t you ask the Emperor of Flas to teach you a thing or two about Spiritual Energy and summoning?" Dale suggested from the side. "Who knows, maybe you’ll finally be able to summon a spirit normally."

Seraphim’s lips twitched as she turned toward Dale with narrowed eyes. She couldn’t help but question whether he had seen the sa thing she had just witnessed. The spirit had flung Reynold aside like a piece of garbage, and yet Dale was recomnding she approach it?

As an elf, Seraphim had learned since childhood that high-level spirits were inherently prideful. You didn’t simply call on them, let alone request favors. Doing so recklessly could result in death. They wouldn’t hesitate to strike you down for disturbing them.

Seraphim decided it was far better to keep her distance for now, though she couldn’t deny she was still deeply curious.

The room grew quiet again. Whatever curiosity the others had felt toward Romulus quickly faded after witnessing his indifferent attitude and the brutal way he handled Reynold.

Finally, a voice broke the silence.

"Anthony," Spectre said from the side, his tone calm but serious. "I want to ask you for a favor."

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "That’s unusual for you. What do you need?"

"Would it be possible for you to put in a good word with Warlord Raelith for ?" Spectre asked directly. "I want to train under him for a while. Specifically, to improve my skills in Katanamanship. I don’t know when we’ll be assigned our next team mission, and I’d like to grow stronger before then."

"You want to beco his disciple?" Anthony asked, intrigued.

"No. I don’t want to beco his disciple, I just want to learn from him. If he’s willing to teach

a few things, that would be enough."

Anthony leaned back slightly, thoughtful. Spectre was indeed extrely talented, perhaps even monstrously so, but talent alone wasn’t enough to close the massive chasm between him and Warlord Raelith, who was a living legend.

Besides, Anthony himself didn’t have the patience or energy to teach Spectre anything further. He had already given everyone a system. That was as far as his sense of responsibility stretched.

Making such a request to Warlord Raelith would an Anthony would be using the only favor he had in reserve. He was about to ask Spectre what he was willing to offer in return, but then he paused.

He rembered he literally held Spectre’s life in his hands. What more could he possibly ask for?

Moreover, this gave him the perfect excuse to leave the room, and he was interested in checking in on Warlord Raelith’s students anyway.

Without hesitation, Anthony expanded his Sense Do, allowing his awareness to stretch across kiloters. He soon located Raelith, teaching his disciples in a secluded mountain range, surrounded by nature..

’Perfect.’ Anthony thought. His gaze shifted back to Spectre.

"No problem," he said. "We’ll be heading out now. Any issues with that?"

"None." Spectre replied, rising to his feet, his katana hanging securely by his waist.

As the two prepared to leave, the darkness cloaking Clent twisted unnaturally before unraveling into wisps of shadow. Within monts, he faded from the room as though he had never existed.

Anthony walked toward Spectre and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. Then he turned to the others.

"Sayonara." he said with a slight smile.

And just like that, Anthony, Romulus, and Spectre vanished.