MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 434: Laid Back

After nearly an hour, Anthony and the rest of the team slowly rose to their feet.

"Let's move. Prepare to strike the moment you step through the portal"

Anthony instructed, his voice calm but commanding.

With a brief nod, he took the lead, stepping into the portal without hesitation.

The others followed close behind, their movements measured and composed.

As they passed through, space twisted around them, warping their senses in a disorienting blur.

Moments later, clarity returned, and with it, the familiar reality beyond the Fracture World.

The landscape that unfolded before them was hauntingly familiar.

Above, the sky crackled with ever-present lightning, flickering like veins of fury across a storm-laden canvas.

Howling tornadoes tore through the air with relentless fury, their shrieks echoing across the broken terrain.

Chaotic, unsteady mana surged around them like a storm barely held in check, distorting the very fabric of the world.

Darkness loomed at the edges, thick and oppressive, as though it sought to consume their very existence.

Jagged spires of fractured earth twisted skyward, monuments to the violence that had shaped this place.

Beneath their feet, the ground rumbled subtly, trembling with the uneasy rhythm of a world on the verge of collapse.

Behind them, the Bleeding Hollow Zone quivered violently, then, without warning, it sealed shut and vanished, leaving only silence in its wake.

"You've finally made it out"

The voice emerged from the gloom, low, guttural, and laced with amusement.

From the gloom, the demons stepped forward.

Four of them stood apart, their auras thick and oppressive, radiating power that bent the air around them.

The others, though weaker, formed a menacing wall of presence, their numbers alone enough to suffocate the unprepared.

Anthony's gaze swept across the group.

A faint smile curved his lips as he replied, his tone light, almost conversational, like an old friend commenting on a surprise reunion.

"Hoo... I must admit, you're different from what I've come to expect of demons. I assumed you'd ambush us the moment we stepped through. But here you are, restrained, even polite. Honestly, you're making me consider reevaluating everything I thought I knew about your kind"

"Hand over the Severed Crown of Echoes, and we'll let you walk out of here alive"

The demand came from Krag, one of the four leading demons, his voice deep and sharp, edged with threat.

"They know every word you utter is a lie"

Morn interjected coldly, his eyes narrowing with disdain.

"Why bother with the charade?"

"Enough talking"

Growled Drek, baring a mouthful of jagged teeth as a savage grin spread across his face.

"Let's tear them apart and bathe in their blood"

Then Vexa stepped forward, her silhouette sensual, but her presence venomous.

The succubus' eyes locked onto Seraphim with predatory obsession.

"Leave that little bitch of an elf to me"

She hissed.

"No one touches her but me"

Anthony and his team remained silent, their gazes locked onto the four demons.

Then suddenly—

A surge of chaotic mana exploded through the atmosphere, crackling like lightning across the battlefield.

From beneath the fractured earth, twisted monstrosities began to rise, pulled from slumber by the disturbance.

The ground quaked violently beneath their feet, and a wave of pure chaos pulsed outward, turning the very air volatile.

The tension spiked, heavy enough to crush the breath from one's lungs.

"I'll leave the four demons to you"

Anthony said calmly, his tone lazy.

"I'll deal with the monstrosities and weaker demons"

Without hesitation, Dale and Reynold drew their weapons, steel flashing in the dim light.

Kingsley stood unmoved, his gaze flat and unreadable, as if waiting for something only he could see.

Around Seraphim's hand, Spiritual Energy coiled and shimmered, gathering like a storm ready to be unleashed.

Before anyone could move, Anthony's voice rang out again, low, commanding.

"Come forth"

The already oppressive darkness beneath his feet deepened, turning almost viscous, like living shadow.

It spread outward in every direction, a creeping, all-consuming shroud that seemed to swallow the light itself.

Then—

From the depths of that abyss, twisted hands erupted upward, clawing their way into existence.

Figures emerged, one after another, soldiers clad in hues of black and ghostly blue, their eyes glowing faintly, their movements precise and silent.

An army of the dead, bound by Anthony's will.

Their numbers surged, forming ranks in perfect formation.

The ground trembled beneath the sheer magnitude of their presence.

Anthony had expanded his shadow army, reaping the spoils of war after decimating several Assassin Guild strongholds, and raising their fallen as his own.

"My liege. It is a pleasure to see you again"

Beru said warmly, his voice filled with reverence as he bowed low before Anthony, a gleam of joy in his insectoid eyes.

Igris stood silently beside him, his black cloak fluttering in the chaotic wind, sword drawn and gleaming, an avatar of utmost loyalty.

Towering behind them was Bellion, a figure of sheer dominance.

His black, angelic wings spread wide, pulsing faintly with an ominous glow that radiated authority and silent death.

Anthony's eyes swept over them with calm satisfaction.

"Wipe out the monstrosities. Eliminate anything that interfere with this battle, including the weaker demons"

His voice was quiet, but the command carried absolute weight.

Then, without warning, Anthony vanished from their sight, reappearing high above the battlefield, suspended in the sky, seated upon nothing as though the very air recognized his dominion.

"It's been a while since I enjoyed a good show"

He murmured, a faint smile curling on his lips as a box of popcorn materialized in his hand with a flick of mana.

Having already secured the Severed Crown of Echoes, Anthony saw no need to rush.

For now, he would indulge himself, and watch chaos unfold from above.

With the command given, every shadow surged forward in unison, blurring across the broken terrain like a tidal wave of death.

The earth buckled beneath the sheer force of their advance, cracks spiderwebbing outward as thousands of footsteps thundered in harmony.

Their targets were clear: the monstrosities and the weaker demons.

The four higher-ranked demons, however, remained untouched, reserved for a more personal reckoning.

Anthony had no doubt his team would understand.

They hadn't been able to lift a finger during the battle against the Executioner, an overwhelming force that had left them sidelined and powerless.

Now, finally, they had an outlet.

A chance to vent the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface.

A jagged spire shattered into rubble as Beru's claws tore through it, slicing stone like paper.

With a single beat of his wings, he vanished, zigzagging through the darkness like a storm given form.

He moved with unnatural speed, a blur of silver fury weaving through the chaos.

His claws gleamed beneath the gloom, catching flickers of lightning as they carved paths of death.

Every motion was a whisper of destruction, too fast for the eye to follow, too brutal to survive.

Behind him, heads rolled to the earth, one after another.

There was no pause. No mercy.

Only the predator in motion, and the silence left in his wake.

Igris moved with effortless grace, a shadow in the midst of chaos.

His blade sliced through the air, leaving nothing but afterimages, spectral echoes of death that hung suspended like fading whispers.

Before his enemies even realized he had moved, he was already gone.

His speed turned the battle into a surreal blur, a fleeting flicker too fast to comprehend.

He struck from every angle at once, an impossible illusion of motion made terrifyingly real.

The abominations never had a chance.

They didn't see a blur, a flicker, or even the flash of his blade.

They only saw the afterimage of a massive sword descending.

And then the world spun around them, disoriented, as their perception fractured in an instant.

Bellion's blade disconnected with a sharp crack, snapping through the air like a whip, its lethal edge crackling with intent.

He turned to face the demons, his expression cold, devoid of any emotion or hesitation.

This was not a moment for fury or pride.

He was here only to fulfill his liege's command.

As the demons closed in on him, Bellion raised his whip-like sword high, its dark form coiling through the air like the prelude to a storm.

In one fluid motion, he brought it down, unstoppable, unrelenting.

The impact was catastrophic.

With a single stroke, the demons were reduced to nothing more than shredded remnants, their bodies torn apart by the sheer force of the blow.

The earth itself buckled beneath the ferocity, scars searing into the ground as if the land had been struck by lightning.

Each swing of his blade sent arcs of destruction spiraling outward, tearing through the chaos like a force of nature, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake.

Across the battlefield, the assassin shadow soldiers vanished, melting into the gloom like smoke.

A breath later, they reappeared behind their targets, silent as the void itself.

No warnings. No footsteps. Only the cold glint of their daggers.

With a single, fluid motion, their blades slid across flesh, and blood welled from the throats of demons and monstrosities alike, spilling in crimson arcs.

Elsewhere, George drove his fist into the earth with a thunderous crack.

The ground ruptured, and with it, every hidden monstrosity lurking below was crushed in an instant.

Blood geysered skyward.

Screams, shrieks, and inhuman shrills shattered the air, each one distinct, twisted by the throat that produced it.

The battlefield became a cacophony of death.

Corpses piled like discarded refuse.

Blood pooled thick and deep, forming a grotesque lake at the center of the carnage.

And still, the rampage continued, unstopping, unpaused, like a symphony of annihilation.