MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

As the champions deliberated amongst themselves, reflecting on the recent events, time slipped away unnoticed, over forty hours passing in the blink of an eye.

Then, without warning, they felt space distort around them, an invisible force twisting reality itself before they were abruptly teleported to a new location.

The top ten materialized at their previous seats, majestic, floating thrones suspended.

Meanwhile, the remaining contenders found themselves relegated to the outskirts, permitted only to observe from afar, as was customary.

High above them all, the Overseer made his presence known, his imposing figure commanding the attention of every soul present.

He did not speak immediately.

Instead, his gaze swept over the top ten champions, his eyes flickering between each of them with quiet scrutiny.

Then, his focus settled on Charles and Anthony.

Ever since Mitchelle's audacious display, he had harbored suspicions about Anthony.

But for the boy to pull out something even more unfathomable, something beyond his imagination, was another matter entirely.

With a silent sigh, he chose to set the thought aside, at least for now.

Barely a fraction of a second had passed as these reflections played out in his mind.

Then, at last, he spoke.

"The Starborn Tournament will proceed as planned. I must admit, I have always anticipated entertainment… but what I received was something far beyond my expectations"

The Overseer's words carried a rare hint of amusement, yet there was an undeniable weight to them.

Everyone present understood exactly what he was referring to.

With a snap of his fingers, the ancient screen reappeared, making its dramatic entrance once more, shimmering with an almost theatrical presence.

Without hesitation, names began flashing across its surface, scrolling in rapid succession.

Some competitors silently prayed that fate would spare them from facing Anthony, at least for now.

Then, the flickering came to a sudden halt.

The matchups had been decided.

And just like that, the battles began.

Champions clashed with relentless determination, each warrior fighting not just for victory but for the honor of their race, the pride of their lineage, and the legacy of their homeworld.

Some triumphed, others lost.

Yet none of it mattered.

They pressed forward, relentless.

The battlefield was a storm of chaos and brilliance, reshaping itself endlessly beneath the weight of their battles.

Blades met, energy roared, and the very air trembled under the force of their clashes.

Their attacks grew heavier, more ferocious, honed with sharpened strategy and unwavering resolve.

Now, with the realization that unfathomable beings, watchers beyond their comprehension, observed their every move, they gave more than everything they had.

They fought as if their very existence depended on it.

Lucian and Aaaninja were summoned to battle, and they utterly dominated.

Their opponents stood no chance.

No matter what desperate gambits other races attempted, no matter the hidden trump cards they revealed, it was meaningless before the sheer, overwhelming force of absolute power.

Strategy crumbled beneath the weight of their blade and katana, reduced to nothing more than futile gestures in the face of their might.

Meanwhile, Charles Evander remained true to his usual routine.

He never lifted a finger.

Instead, he calmly sipped his tea, graciously poured by Hela, while sending forth Glug, who had since recovered from previous battles, to deal with his adversaries.

But then, Charles met his match.

Lucian.

A fellow human.

And he lost.

His summons, formidable as they were, simply could not contend with Lucian's strength.

It was almost ironic, destined even, that the only ones capable of defeating Charles were his own kind.

Yet what truly left the spectators speechless was the level at which Lucian fought.

His abilities were pushing the very ceiling of the Transcendent Rank, an absurd display of power that defied expectations.
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For many watching, one question echoed in their minds:

'What was wrong with the humans this time?'

Once again, by sheer luck or perhaps fate, Anthony's name did not appear on the ancient screen.

And so, he remained an observer, watching the chaos unfold from above.

During one match, he casually munched on an apple.

In the next, he switched to pineapples.

To him, this entire spectacle was nothing more than a leisurely outing, a mere picnic in the midst of war.

Those who had fervently prayed to avoid facing him now found themselves torn, relieved yet irritated.

They had been spared, yet the sight of Anthony, utterly carefree, living in luxury while they fought tooth and nail, was enough to vex them beyond words.

But Anthony?

He couldn't be bothered in the slightest.

It wasn't his fault luck seemed to favor him.

The ancient screen flickered once more, heralding the arrival of the next round.

Names flashed across its surface, rolling in rapid succession, until it stopped.

Two names, glowing in bold, unmistakable brilliance, stood alone on display:

NULL ANTHONY VS AAANINJA CHRONISYNTH ETERNOS

Anthony's hand froze mid motion, a cherry mere inches from his lips.

For a moment, silence.

Then, realization.

His name had been called.

And this time, it was against none other than the enigmatic Aaaninja, the Time based Celestial.

The cherry in his hand vanished into nothingness as his gaze shifted toward his opponent.

Aaaninja, though his eyes remained closed, turned toward Anthony as well.

And despite the lack of visible sight, Anthony felt his gaze, a pressure both subtle and absolute.

Then, as if on cue, they both smiled.

A knowing smile.

One that carried the weight of something inevitable.

Even Lucian, a spectator to this unfolding clash, couldn't help but smirk.

From the very beginning of the Starborn Tournament, they had spoken of this moment, of facing each other in battle.

And now, at last, the time had come.

The remaining champions watched with anticipation, their eyes gleaming with something between excitement and quiet satisfaction.

They were eager, extremely eager to see this so called 'lucky bastard' finally lose.

In their minds, only Aaaninja had the power to stand against Anthony and Lucian.

Only he could break the streak of absurd fortune that seemed to follow these two humans.

Without hesitation, both combatants descended from their seats, their figures drifting effortlessly to the battlefield below.

Dust didn't even swirled beneath their landing.

They stood exactly one hundred meters apart, the vast expanse between them wasn't even heavy with unspoken tension.

"We finally meet on the battlefield"

Aaaninja's voice was calm, carrying the weight of inevitability.

"Yes… Although I would much rather sit back and watch than move around"

Anthony's reply was blunt, his expression completely straight faced.

Aaaninja chuckled.

"I hope you don't have another ancient being hidden up your sleeve, because if you do, this match would be pretty much meaningless"

Though he had anticipated this battle, after witnessing Romulus, doubts had begun to creep into his mind.

How was he supposed to overcome a force like that?

Anthony let out a low chuckle at Aaaninja's words.

"I wouldn't have revealed that card if Charles hadn't summoned that ancient being first. So, if you can win without pulling out some forgotten deity, then there's nothing to worry about"

A small smile played on Anthony's lips, and Aaaninja nodded, acknowledging his point.

Still, he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

"You do realize I control time, don't you? So why do you sound so carefree?"

Anthony smirked.

"And what exactly would worrying solve? Nothing. I might as well lose with a smile on my face"

Aaaninja's eyes, though closed, seemed to sharpen, as if measuring Anthony's intent.

Anthony's smirk deepened.

"Besides… I can feel it now. Your battle intent. You've kept it buried throughout this entire tournament, but it's finally starting to surface"

His voice carried a knowing edge as he continued.

"You're itching for this fight, aren't you? A battle that forces you to show your true strength, that pushes you to the edge. A battle that will make you finally use the cards you've hidden for years, ones even you haven't had a reason to unleash until now"

Aaaninja remained silent.

There was no need to respond, Anthony's words had already struck at the truth.

Throughout the Starborn Tournament, he had fought against so called champions, beings from the most powerful races in the galaxy.

Yet, none of them had truly challenged him.

None had ignited the thrill of battle within him.

But Anthony…

He was different.

Aaaninja could feel it, this was the fight he had been waiting for.

A battle where he could finally unleash himself.

"In this match, I propose we aim for each other's lives… to make things more interesting"

Aaaninja's voice was steady, but the battle intent swirling around him surged, dense, sharp, electric.

Anthony simply smiled.

"Sure"

One word.

A single affirmation.

Then, in a stunning perfect unison, they reached for their weapons.

Blades whispered against their sheaths.

A soft, chilling tink rang out as steel met the open air.

One wielded a katana.

The other, a sword.

And then, they moved.