MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 753: Slightest Satisfaction

Chapter 753: Slightest Satisfaction

The rest of the Supre Monarchs watched in silent shock as the Second Supre Monarch’s screams slamd into their ears like the detonation of a nuclear explosion. None of them had expected that Anthony, a re child in their eyes, would reduce the formidable Second Supre Monarch to such a pitiful and humiliating state. Their expressions shifted from disbelief to a silent, uneasy dread.

They couldn’t help but wonder how the boy had co to possess such power in such a short span of ti. Before they left, it was undeniable that he had been beneath them, his strength clearly inferior, barely worth their notice. Yet now, barely two weeks later, he now stood above them, radiating an oppressive might so absolute that they could feel it in their souls.

They did not need to battle him to understand. They could sense it from the way the sun itself seed to yield beneath his presence, from the way the Second Supre Monarch, a being stronger than them, was being dismantled like prey before a predator. Anthony could destroy them just as he was destroying the Second Supre Monarch at that very mont.

The Third, Fourth, and Seventh Supre Monarch exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes shifting toward the First Supre Monarch. They silently questioned whether he would intervene, whether he would deem it necessary to put an end to the Second Supre Monarch’s suffering.

But the First Supre Monarch remained unnervingly still, golden-ringed eyes fixed upon the spectacle unfolding before him. He did not move, did not blink, simply observed the brutal beatdown with a calmness that was almost scholarly, as though studying a phenonon rather than witnessing one of his peers being torn apart.

Their gazes then turned to the Fifth, Eighth, and Ninth Supre Monarchs, Anthony’s own family mbers. But even they were just as stunned, their expressions reflecting the sa disbelief that clouded the others. Shock, pride, confusion, and a hint of sothing else, perhaps fear, flickered within their eyes.

The Second Supre Monarch, for all his legendary power, a being capable of destroying planets with just his presence, had been reduced to such a shaful state. His fall from dignity was unsightly, disgraceful even. But did any of them move to save him? Did any of them even consider it? Definitely not. There was no problem so long as the Second Supre Monarch survived. Intervention held no value. There was nothing to gain by sticking out their necks, nothing to profit from risking Anthony’s wrath.

The mont stretched on, and soon, all of them frowned as they noticed it, sothing subtle yet terrifying. The Second Supre Monarch was no longer regenerating.

They did not need to be told. Anthony had done it. How he had achieved it, none of them knew. But the implications made him even more dangerous in their eyes.

"AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGG!!!!"

The Second Supre Monarch’s screams echoed endlessly, rippling through the blazing surface of the sun they stood upon. Anthony’s sword intent continued its rciless work, slowly and deliberately tearing apart every fiber of flesh, every organ, every inch of internal structure.

The Second Supre Monarch’s mind reeled, consud entirely by agony. He could scarcely think, scarcely breathe. He could not understand it, how had he lost his regeneration? Both the natural regeneration gifted to planetary-level beings and the innate vampiric regeneration that had always restored him without effort... gone.

’How?’

The question ford in his mind with excruciating effort, his consciousness flickering in and out beneath the crushing pain.

He had never felt such agony before. He, who had stood above everything for millennia, who had reduced planets to ash and watched civilizations kneel. Now he lay broken upon the radiant surface of the sun, his blood vaporizing instantly as it left his body, incinerated by the star’s devouring heat. His legs hung limp and disfigured, twisted in grotesque angles. His body was slashed and diced in a thousand proportions, skin torn open like shredded parchnt, veins dangling loosely as though ready to detach from his body entirely.

His once-flowing crimson hair had lost its rich luster, now pale and lifeless. His blood-red eyes, once filled with arrogance, now seed hollow, dimd by despair. His once flawless skin was now nothing more than a canvas of torn flesh and seared blood, as though he had been repainted in pure scarlet.

His mind spun in chaos, desperately cycling through mories of the countless techniques he had used to annihilate his enemies. The power he had wielded just a day ago to fight nurous Demon Monarchs simultaneously, those sa techniques now felt aningless, useless before the absolute authority of Anthony’s sword intent.

It felt as though their roles had been reversed. It was as if he were the one who was nineteen, inexperienced, unrefined, and Anthony was the ancient being who had bathed in wars spanning eras.

Normally, a person who had endured such catastrophic injuries would have perished countless tis over. But the Second Supre Monarch was a Planetary-level being. His vitality was not sothing that could be exhausted by re flesh wounds.

Anthony slowly withdrew his hand from the Second Supre Monarch’s chest. Blood splattered outwards in a violent spray, only to be vaporized instantly. Anthony could literally see the Vampire’s heart beating weakly within his open chest cavity, struggling desperately like a dying fla in a storm.

His calm sky-blue eyes t the dim blood-red eyes of the vampire. Despite the hopelessness of his situation, despite having lost everything, the Second Supre Monarch’s hatred and pride still burned, faint, but still alight, beneath the unyielding radiance of the sun they stood upon.

"Was your pride worth it?" Anthony asked, his lips parting slowly as he spoke. His voice was low, calm, almost serene, so peaceful that it contrasted horrifyingly with the brutality he had just inflicted.

"You’ve lost everything now. Your entire bloodline, your status, your power, your very existence. And for what?" Anthony continued, voice echoing through the void like a decree. "For a bet you agreed to... and lost. An arm you could have regenerated without even expending a single drop of mana or blood energy. All that ego, all that pride... for nothing."

His words thundered through the emptiness, reaching the Supre Monarchs who watched from afar like distant stars witnessing the fall of a sun.

"I always believed that as people grew older, they would grow wiser," Anthony said, voice neither loud nor soft, each word perfectly asured. "But what I’ve seen these past few months has reminded

just how naive I still am. The little authority you cling to within your military, playing house with titles and seats of command... it has made you blind. Blind to the existence of power far beyond your comprehension."

He paused for a mont, letting the silence settle like ash.

"I wonder," he continued, tone as calm as ever, "in your next existence, will you still cling to this foolish pride? Or will you take a step back, think, strategize, and seek your revenge like a smart man would?"

Anthony’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in sothing akin to cold pity.

"Always rember this, you lost everything to your own stupidity," he finished, his final words cutting deeper than any blade.

The Second Supre Monarch couldn’t even speak. His vocal cords were intact. His ears worked perfectly, Anthony had deliberately avoided damaging those parts. But still, he refused to speak. Not because he couldn’t... but because he would not. He refused to give the boy even the slightest satisfaction.

But Anthony had never sought satisfaction. To him, the Second Supre Monarch was insignificant, far too insignificant to warrant emotional response.

The man had crossed a line. And Anthony had simply retaliated. Nothing more. Nothing less. That was all there was to it.