MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

The representatives of each champion stood in solemn attention, their gaze fixed intently upon the screen that hovered before them.

Their eyes, unwavering and composed, tracked the unfolding spectacle as their champion either tore through the relentless tide of adversaries or succumbed to overwhelming force.

While their focus remained on their own champion, their awareness extended to the others as well.

Some champions displayed such overwhelming power that they scarcely moved, leaving a growing mound of corpses in their wake.

Subtle yet unmistakable grins played upon the faces of certain races, those who had long stood at the pinnacle of galactic dominance, such as the Voidwalkers and Eclipsians , witnessing the fruits of their superiority with evident satisfaction.

A delegate from the Terramorph race spoke, her gaze fixed on the effortless brilliance of a champion's move.

"It appears the Voidwalkers have cultivated yet another genius"

She remarked, her voice tinged with a mixture of intrigue and subtle admiration.

The Terramorphs, known for their unparalleled command over the very fabric of nature, were capable of conjuring entire ecosystems at will.

They could summon volcanic eruptions, grow vast forests in mere moments, or unleash cataclysmic earthquakes with a thought.

This remarkable power, known as Elemental Genesis, set their race apart.

The delegate from the Voidwalker race responded, his voice thick with pride.

"Of course our champion is a genius"

He declared confidently.

"What race do you think he hails from?"

"We shall only recognize true genius when the real battle begins"

A delegate from the Netherborn spoke, his tone laced with quiet disdain.

"Fighting mindless beasts is hardly a feat worthy of celebration, Voidwalker"

The Netherborn, a race renowned for their unparalleled ability to manipulate souls, were both feared and respected across the galaxy.

Their unique power, known as Soul Dominion, allowed them to command the very essence of life itself.

Their presence evoked a deep unease, for many had to rely on soul protection skills and enchanted artifacts to shield themselves from their terrifying gaze.

The Netherborn's eyes, capable of peering into the very core of a being, could read a person's soul, unraveling their deepest memories and experiences with a mere glance.

To them, others were nothing more than open books, their lives laid bare.

Yet, this power came with a caveat: their soul must be stronger than their opponent's. If not, their efforts were in vain.

The Voidwalker delegate clicked his tongue in frustration, though inwardly, he was on high alert.

Every soul protection technique he possessed activated to its maximum, and he dared not take even the slightest risk.

After a brief pause, the Voidwalker spoke, his voice edged with tension.

"You speak as though your champion is the only one deserving of praise. But perhaps it is because she simply consumes the souls of anything that comes within five hundred meters of her"

The Netherborn delegate's lips curled into a subtle smile.

Her gaze shifting toward the Aetherian delegate and, more importantly, to their champion.

Not a single corpse lay near the Aetherian's presence, an unnerving sight in the midst of such relentless battle.

'Such a broken race'

She thought, her eyes narrowing as she watched, mesmerized by the Aetherian champion's flawless dominance.

Each beast, one by one, was wiped from existence as though they had never been.

"I must say, the true genius here belongs to the Celestial race"

Remarked a delegate from the Sylphari, his voice filled with a touch of awe.

"To produce a champion who bends time itself to his will, such formidable power"

In an instant, every gaze turned toward Aaaninja, the Celestial champion.

Even those who lacked any affinity for Time could feel it, the very air around him seemed to warp and shift, as though time itself answered his every need.

He remained unmoved with an effortless grace, and yet, it was clear that he required no motion at all for time to bend in his favor.

It was as though time itself were a passive extension of his will.

"You should be accustomed to this by now"

A voice broke the silence, Zarynth Zachary Zorynthar, Aaaninja's father, spoke with a tone that left no room for doubt.

"We, the Celestial race, are the finest in the galaxy. And my son...my son can be considered the best of his mana rank. You might as well concede now, for we shall claim the top spot this time"

His words were not mere boasts but proclamations of fact, his tone resonating like the decree of a divine being.

His confidence radiated across the expanse, as though his very presence reaffirmed his words.

Beside him, his wife, Elyndra Voryss Nyxaria, sat in serene quiet, her smile radiating pride as she watched their son.

Their fingers intertwined, a silent, shared bond as they observed the spectacle unfold before them.

"The humans are making quite the impression this time"

Elyndra remarked, her gaze drifting to Lucian and Anthony.

Zachary raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

"Oh? You mean the one who hosted our son at his home during the break?"

His eyes followed his wife's focus, but throughout the entire battle, Zachary had not once turned his attention to the other champions, his concentration remained solely on his son.

"Yes"

Elyndra responded thoughtfully,

"I must admit, both of them are quite impressive. Do you think Aaaninja might make friends this time?"

Her question hung in the air, one of those rare moments when even the most powerful beings allowed themselves a glimpse of the trivialities of life.

Normally, such discussions would never take place in the presence of other powerhouses.

They would shroud themselves in an aura of mystery, maintaining their distant, inscrutable demeanor.

But Aaaninja's parents were above such concerns.

To them, anyone who dared challenge their authority would be reduced to nothingness without a second thought.

They were not concerned with the opinions of those weaker than themselves, and in that regard, they spoke with complete freedom, unburdened by the need to hide their thoughts.

By this time, Anthony had grown entirely indifferent to the chaos unfolding around him.

His stretching session was long finished, and he had no intention of participating further.

Instead, he utilized an illusion to distort every sense around him, then casually settled back into his seat, resuming his movie.

He had been interrupted at a cliffhanger, and he couldn't bear to leave it unfinished.

These weak monsters held no interest for him.

The creatures, seemingly unaware of his presence, turned their attention to each other, descending into mindless carnage.

Michael could only sigh as he observed his son.

'Is he truly planning to disgrace me here?'

He wondered silently, his patience thinning.

"It seems your son's nonchalant demeanor cannot be swayed, even by a galaxy wide competition"

Gorath remarked, watching Anthony's relaxed state with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

They had all witnessed Anthony's detached behavior during the earlier bloodbath, relaxing with a parasol, eating fruits, and seeming utterly unphased by the carnage around him.

Even they, hardened warriors who had seen countless battles, had been stunned by his casual demeanor.

Now, the entire assembly of powerhouses from across the galaxy found themselves rendered speechless by his actions.

"Your champion seems quite proficient in illusions"

Vespera Darkheart, Lucian's mother, observed with a cool tone, directing her words toward the representatives from the blue planet.

"Well... my son has always been that good"

Mitchelle replied with a soft smile, a mother's pride evident in her voice.

"Not just good"

Riven Darkheart, Lucian's father, added with a hint of admiration.

"The way he ascended the steps of the Ascension Mirage... his mastery of illusions is undeniable. And to think he's only seventeen"

"Anthony has always had an exceptional talent for illusion"

Michael agreed, his voice tinged with pride but also a quiet concern.

His gaze shifted then, landing on Lucian, who stood alone in the desert, a katana in his hand, arms folded across his chest.

He hadn't moved a muscle since his arrival.

"The sand..."

Michael mused, continuing,

"Your champion seems to have an uncanny affinity for sand magic. To land on a desert and wield such an element with ease, such luck"

Riven's face remained stoic, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

"He is my son, after all, genius above all"

But deep within, Riven's thoughts churned.

'Where did he even acquire this sand ability from? I'll have to ask him after the tournament'

The truth was, Riven had no idea that Lucian could control sand. But then again, it wasn't entirely his fault.

With Lucian's prodigious copying ability, it was virtually impossible for anyone to track every power he had copied. Stay connected with empire

Lucian didn't simply copy abilities; he also replicated the experiences of others, making his power deeply multifaceted and virtually limitless.

Unlike others who might copy an ability and need to train it, Lucian's system allowed him to copy powers and the knowledge behind them, with no limit to the number he could acquire.

If not for the constraints of his copy ability, Lucian would have copied everything Anthony had, everything from birth.

Even Aaaninja wouldn't have escaped his grasp.