Chapter 523: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
As the crimson, blinding light of the exploded sun receded, the Supres ca into view. Barriers of various types shimred over each of them as they shielded themselves from the Ninth Supre’s attack.
The First Supre remained seated, along with the Third, Fourth, and Seventh Supres.
Their gazes turned toward Crimson Mitchelle, whose flowing crimson hair danced with the rhythm of the wind. The strands caught flecks of light, rippling like fire given form, like war given grace.
From the clearing, the Second Supre erged, untouched. His body was pristine, unmarred by the devastation that had just occurred.
"You’ve made your point, Fifth, Eighth, and Ninth Supre Monarchs," the First Supre spoke, his golden-ringed eyes glowing with a soft, yet commanding, brightness.
Mitchelle’s gaze shifted calmly to the First Supre as she replied, "Should I attack your own son just to get my point across, oh First Supre?"
The First Supre was revered as the strongest, having battled most of the other Supre Monarchs and stood undefeated. Even Null Collins had lost to him in all their past sparring sessions.
But that was then, and this was now.
Besides, Mitchelle and the Null family couldn’t care less about the First Supre at this mont. Soone had attacked their son, and they would pay the price.
During the Bloodbath, Mitchelle had once killed Alala, a vampire whose daughter had participated in the Bloodbath tournant, just for daring to send killing intent in Anthony’s direction. Now, a Supre had launched an actual attack.
She would not let this go unanswered. Her wrath was not the kind that ca in shouts or storms. It ca in silence, in inevitability, like nightfall swallowing the horizon.
Aside from the Null family, the rest of the Supre Monarchs couldn’t believe their ears.
The Ninth Supre had actually spoken about attacking the son of the First Supre Monarch.
The First Supre, cloaked in thick, swirling haze, instantly frowned. In the past, he would have subdued everyone with overwhelming force and brought an end to this entire fiasco.
But tis had changed.
He knew better than anyone that the Fifth, Eighth, and Ninth Supre Monarchs had climbed to his level, or possibly even taken a step beyond it.
The others might not yet realize this truth. But he did.
Before the First Supre Monarch could respond to Mitchelle’s words, the Third Supre’s voice thundered across the heavens.
"Ninth Supre, you dare disrespect the First?"
His aura surged gently as he spoke. Though he had planned to sit back and watch the unfolding drama, respect for the First Supre had to be upheld.
"I understand your son was attacked by the Second," the Third Supre continued, "but you saved him in the last second."
He concluded as his aura rose to its peak. What he now unleashed was nothing like the restrained energy they had used against Anthony earlier.
Back then, they had shown rcy. After all, at the end of the day, Anthony was still a junior.
But now?
Now, the Third Supre’s aura drenched the heavens in a decaying force, cold, ancient, and absolute. It pressed on the sky like the hand of death itself, as if history had co alive to remind them of who the Supres truly were.
To the side, the Seventh Supre’s aura also exploded outward. Her legs crossed one over the other as her piercing eyes stared straight ahead.
She didn’t speak, but her expression conveyed everything. She agreed with the Third Supre.
Not far off, the Fourth Supre did not say a word. Instead, he leaned back even further into his seat, relaxing more comfortably, as if a proper show was about to begin in earnest.
His fingers drumd slowly on the armrest, each tap like the countdown of fate’s drumbeat.
Before Mitchelle could offer a response, a voice echoed from the side in a burst of laughter... maniacal, resounding laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
It was the Eighth Supre Monarch, Null Michael, the Sword Saint.
All eyes turned toward him as he hovered in the air, laughing like a madman.
Michael’s black eyes shone with unhinged brilliance as he gazed down upon everyone present and spoke:
"It seems the madness of the Null family has been forgotten just because we climbed to the rank of Supre Monarch."
Everyone’s expressions instantly darkened.
Although the mbers of the Null family were small in number, if there was one thing they were known for, it was the sheer madness they displayed whenever their loved ones were hard.
Just like when demons had summoned Anthony and his classmates into their own territory during the Omni Peak Academy exams, Mitchelle had tortured every demon present with every elent in her repertoire before erasing them from existence.
Just like how Michael had once obliterated an entire planet when he rely heard that Anthony was ’trapped’ with a Demon Monarch.
Just like how Collins had nearly wiped the entire Omni Peak Academy off the map when he feared Anthony wouldn’t return alive from a demon sche.
The Nulls were not a family bound by reason. They were bound by blood. And blood demanded retribution.
Yet they still allowed their kin to experience life’s dangers, to be tempered in its fire and forge their own paths forward.
The Soulpen Sovereign knew this. It was one of the reasons he had given Anthony the Fountain Pen, a powerful artifact that could literally bring soone back to life.
Zhyravel knew it as well, which was why he had stepped back the mont he learned Anthony bore the Null na.
"It seems ti has eroded this mory," Michael continued, voice suddenly quiet but no less chilling. "And I shall refresh it once more... permanently this ti."
At those words, the Supres knew the ti for speeches was over.
All at once, they activated their barriers. A creeping sense of dread washed over every single one of them.
Michael’s hand moved, ever so slowly, toward the sword hanging at his right side. As he gripped it, the blade hissed against the heavens, its edge sliding with a sound that chilled the very air.
Then Michael’s lips parted.
NOVA RUIN.
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