MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 798: Madness Of Time

Chapter 798: Madness Of Ti

Within the boundless expanse of the galaxy, in a secluded corner that few even knew existed, a mysterious being sat in serene silence. His white hair shimred faintly, resting upon his head like a crown woven from moonlight. Seated in a perfect lotus position, he exuded an ancient stillness.

One mont, his appearance withered, his face wrinkled, his fra frail, as though a gentle breeze could shatter his existence into dust. The next, his features rejuvenated, smooth and youthful, no older than his early twenties. He seed to drift between ages, embodying both the frailty of mortality and the vigor of eternity.

The planet he occupied was no ordinary world. It was a fragnted one where ti itself had lost all aning, a temporary, erratic ti zone that fluctuated without direction or purpose, like a broken pendulum swinging to no rhythm.

Seconds bled into hours, hours folded into monts, and yet, amidst this madness, the being remained still. Unmoved by ti’s insanity, he sat peacefully, as if he were the very axis upon which chaos turned. His calm presence defied the madness that consud everything else.

After an imasurable stretch of silence, the being exhaled softly. His eyes opened, and in that mont, the universe seed to pause in reverence. His irises were breathtaking, a kaleidoscope of colors resembling a celestial clock, each hue marked with numbers that shimred faintly as though recording the flow of ti itself.

The man’s na was Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos.

He had secluded himself in this planet ever since his last encounter with Anthony and Lucian. He sat within a forsaken world devoid of life, no civilizations, no creatures, only towering green trees that stretched hundreds of ters into the sky. The air was still, the silence heavy, broken only by the whisper of unseen winds that drifted through the colossal forest.

With effortless grace, Aaaninja rose to his feet. The mont he did, a faint ripple distorted the space before him. From within that ripple, an illusionary figure materialized, an entity that seed to exist halfway between reality and dream. Upon appearing, the figure imdiately fell to his knees, his form flickering faintly as though struggling to maintain stability.

"My Lord, you have finally erged from training," the illusionary being said, bowing low. "Your presence is requested at the gathering of the galaxy’s top forces."

His tone was respectful and direct, knowing well that his master disliked idle chatter.

"Not interested," Aaaninja replied instantly, his voice calm but final. He had no intention of wasting precious ti on what he considered the aningless pride of self-proclaid powers. His focus was singular, training, nothing more.

"My Lord, this concerns the fate of the galaxy itself," the subordinate pressed, his tone carrying urgency yet still drenched in reverence.

"Then brief

after the eting," Aaaninja said flatly, already turning away. The so-called fate of the galaxy ant little to him; his path was his own.

The subordinate, however, was not so easily dismissed. As Aaaninja began to walk away, he spoke again, this ti with hesitation, as though he had been forced to play his final card.

"My Lord... the winner of the last Starborn Tournant will be attending."

Aaaninja froze. His footsteps halted mid-stride. Without turning, he asked, his tone quiet but laced with sharp curiosity, "How do you know this?"

"The invitation list was handed to the Patriarch himself, my Lord," the subordinate explained quickly. "Although the winner does not hail from any of the dominant galactic organizations, his victory earned him and his planet an invitation, along with the other top ten participants of the tournant."

The illusionary figure remained composed, his tone steady and his projection calm. He had served Aaaninja for over a century, since the latter’s youth, and had long been his personal bodyguard. Yet, after witnessing the rapid and terrifying evolution of his young master’s power, he often questioned whether the title bodyguard still applied.

But he did know one thing with absolute certainty: Aaaninja’s desire to surpass the one who had once defeated him burned brighter than any star. His master had always been disciplined, devoting every breath to training, yet sothing had changed after his first and only defeat.

Although his Young Lord’s opponent had been rely human, the subordinate had to admit that for a human to overco one who commanded ti itself, that human had to be extraordinary.

A faint smile curved Aaaninja’s lips, so small it could have been mistaken for a trick of the light. "It seems things have just beco interesting."

Inwardly, his thoughts drifted. ’Lucian will likely be there as well... and the other human, Charles Evander.’

The subordinate, still kneeling, lifted his head slightly. "Will you be attending, my Lord?" he asked cautiously. He needed an answer soon; the preparations for such a journey were no simple matter. Truthfully, he had delayed delivering the invitation earlier.

Interrupting Aaaninja’s training was unthinkable, such an act could cause backlash or damage the foundation of his cultivation. His Lord detested interruptions so much that even now, the subordinate’s true body was not physically present on the planet. He was projecting himself from an asteroid orbiting nearby.

"When is the eting?" Aaaninja finally asked, his back still turned.

"In four days, my Lord. Given our proximity to the eting’s location, we can depart in three days ti," the subordinate replied respectfully.

Aaaninja’s gaze shifted toward the horizon, where faint streaks of golden mist drifted across the sky. "Very well," he said at last. "Make the necessary preparations. I will attend."

Hearing those words, the subordinate released a quiet breath of relief. A calm smile touched his ethereal face. "Understood, my Lord. You are permitted to bring two individuals from the younger generation as your companions. Shall I inform the Patriarch to select them, or will you decide personally?"

"I’ll be bringing my girlfriend," Aaaninja said, his tone casual, almost uncharacteristically soft. "I’m sure she’ll enjoy the journey. As for the third spot, Father can choose whoever he deems fit."

The subordinate’s expression twitched faintly with surprise, though he masked it quickly. Even after a century of service, he still found it difficult to comprehend how soone so utterly devoted to cultivation and temporal mastery could maintain a romantic relationship. Yet, knowing his Young Lord’s affinity with ti, he reasoned silently that perhaps Aaaninja simply made ti for everything.

"As you wish, my Lord," the subordinate said finally, bowing once more.