MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 778: Lovely

Chapter 778: Lovely

Within the Ninth Supre Monarch’s grand estate, Mitchelle could be seen moving gracefully through the dining hall, arranging the table and setting the dishes with practiced motion, while Irene assisted her diligently. Normally, the family dinner they had shared just the previous evening would have been more than enough, since family gatherings in their household were rare and usually separated by months.

But today was different.

Today, her beloved son, Anthony, was bringing a woman ho for the very first ti. That alone was enough reason for the entire family to convene once again for another feast, one filled with anticipation, curiosity, and a quiet undercurrent of joy.

"Everything has to be perfect," Mitchelle murmured with a bright, contented smile as she placed a plate carefully on the table, her expression radiating a mix of excitent and maternal pride.

Irene, standing nearby, observed her daughter-in-law with amusent, the corners of her lips lifting into a gentle smile. She watched as Mitchelle adjusted every fork, every napkin, and every piece of cutlery with ticulous care, almost as though they were expecting an esteed guest, or perhaps a celestial being of high order.

Then, for the briefest of monts, Mitchelle’s motion paused. It was nearly imperceptible, lasting no longer than a heartbeat, but Irene caught it imdiately. Although she wasn’t a combat-oriented person, her awareness and perception, honed by the profound understanding of reality that ca with her realm made her incredibly perceptive.

"What is it?" Irene asked softly, her voice calm yet attentive.

"They are coming," Mitchelle replied, her tone composed but with a subtle hint of excitent. "I just received a telepathic ssage from Anthony." Removing the cooking gloves from her hands, she straightened her posture with elegance.

Irene gave a small nod, her smile deepening. "Then lead the way," she said, her tone filled with quiet warmth and curiosity.

Mitchelle smiled in response and began walking out of the dining room with graceful, unhurried strides. As she descended the staircase, she sent telepathic ssages to both Collins and Michael, who were together elsewhere in the estate. The family, now fully aware, gathered and made their way downstairs in unison, a sense of expectancy in the air.

Outside, space itself seed to ripple as a portal opened gently, forming like a tear in the fabric of the world. Through that portal stepped Anthony and Vega, their deanor calm, poised, and utterly serene. The portal closed behind them the instant their feet touched the polished marble of the courtyard.

Vega’s deep purple eyes wandered around, taking in the breathtaking scenery, the vibrant flowers, the glistening fountains, the delicate fragrance of the air, and the harmonious chirping of birds. The entire atmosphere exuded a sense of tranquil beauty, almost divine in its serenity.

"Welco to the Ninth Supre Monarch’s abode," Anthony said with an easy smile, his tone light but proud. "The architecture of this place is quite similar to the Null Estate I showed you back on the Blue Planet, though the interior is entirely different, of course."

"It’s lovely," Vega replied, her voice soft yet sincere, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Let’s move," Anthony said calmly. Vega nodded in acknowledgnt, and together they walked toward the grand front porch with composed and steady gait. As they approached the entrance, Anthony could already sense the distinct, powerful presences of his parents and grandparents within the ground-floor living room.

He knocked gently, and the large door swung open almost imdiately. Behind it stood Mitchelle, and practically the rest of the family, all of them eager and clearly impatient to welco the pair inside.

Mitchelle’s gaze imdiately dropped toward Vega, who stood slightly shorter than her. Their eyes t, Vega’s luminous purple ones locking with Mitchelle’s clear sky-blue, and for a brief, silent mont, it felt as though ti itself had paused. There was an unspoken connection in that instant, a silent dialogue that only won could share, filled with curiosity, pride, and an unexplainable understanding.

Then Vega lowered her posture gracefully. Her knees dipped slightly as she bowed her head, her delicate hands lifting the sides of her gown with practiced poise. Her voice, calm and lodious, flowed like a soft current as she began to speak.

"I greet the Fifth Supre Monarch, The Lightning God. I greet the Saintess Of The World. I greet the Eighth Supre Monarch, The Sword Saint. And I greet the Ninth Supre Monarch, The Elental Witch Of Destruction."

With each greeting, she turned respectfully toward the one being addressed, her tone reverent yet confident. Her voice carried through the air with an enchanting resonance, charming in its rhythm and tone. For a few seconds, everyone stood frozen, almost srized by the grace and nobility of the young woman before them.

’Isn’t this greeting a bit much?’ Anthony thought silently to himself, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. ’She could have just offered one general greeting instead of addressing them one by one... but well, that’s Vega for you.’

Finally, Mitchelle spoke, her smile warm and approving. "Welco, Vega."

"Thank you for having ," Vega replied smoothly, her tone soft and lodic, carrying a faint charm that made her words linger pleasantly in the ears of her listeners.

"You may co in, Vega," Irene said with a gentle smile, gesturing for her to enter.

"I appreciate the hospitality," Vega intoned as she stepped inside gracefully. Any trace of nervousness that had touched her earlier, before she and Anthony had departed, was completely gone. She had regained her calm, composed deanor, exuding quiet confidence and elegance.

Entering the lavishly furnished living room, Vega took a seat on a couch while Anthony moved beside her, sitting with natural ease. The others soon followed, each settling comfortably into their places.

For a brief while, silence hung in the air. It wasn’t awkward, rather, it was a silence born from curiosity and quiet observation. The family seed to be studying Vega, asuring her presence, while Vega herself maintained her serene composure, eting their gazes calmly.

Then, the silence finally broke as Mitchelle spoke again, her words carrying both honesty and admiration.

"I’ll be honest," she began, her tone thoughtful, "your picture doesn’t do justice to your beauty and charm."

Her words were neither exaggerated nor empty. She was genuinely captivated by Vega’s appearance, her beauty was striking, but more than that, there was an aura of allure, a refined grace that surrounded her like a delicate fragrance. Mitchelle could tell, with her sharp perception, that if Vega ever chose to wield her charm intentionally, the effect could be devastating.

To Mitchelle, this was perhaps the first ti she had encountered a face and presence that could stand on equal footing with her son’s, the first ti she had seen soone who truly matched him in poise, confidence, and beauty.

"Thank you, Ninth Supre Monarch," Vega replied, her voice smooth and respectful.

"Mitchelle is fine," Mitchelle said gently with a soft smile, waving a hand dismissively.

"Thank you, Mitchelle," Vega repeated imdiately without hesitation, her tone sincere and warm. Then she added with a light smile, "Honestly, I can see where Anthony gets his beautiful sky-blue eyes from."

Mitchelle chuckled at her words, a soft, genuine laugh escaping her lips. She didn’t reply, but the warmth in her eyes said enough. There was no need for words, the atmosphere had already softened, and the tension of introductions lted into quiet comfort.

And so, within the hall of the Ninth Supre Monarch’s estate, the eting between two worlds, of legacy and of love, began not with grandeur, but with warmth, laughter, and the subtle spark of mutual respect.