MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 388: Vector

As the battle raged on, Anthony's body finally sprang into motion.

He descended from the sky with the force of inevitability, as though the heavens themselves could no longer bear his weight.

When his feet made contact with the earth, it was with a brutal impact that sent shockwaves rippling through the ground.

The sheer force of his landing hurled demons and Forsaken Cult members within range, their bodies thrown back like ragdolls.

Jagged chunks of earth erupted from the ground, flying upward in chaotic arcs, while a cloud of dust billowed into the air.

As the dust began to settle, Anthony stood at the center of the chaos, his arm casually crossed over his chest, his posture gallant, an immovable presence amid the storm.

The demons and Forsaken Cult members didn't hesitate.

Their bodies were already in motion, charging toward Anthony with lethal intent.

But before they could even close the distance, Anthony struck first.

[Vector Burst: Scatter Pulse]

A violent, radial shockwave erupted from Anthony's body, sending a forceful pulse outwards that hurled every one of them backward.

Their bodies were sent careening through the air like missiles, crashing into the earth and the buildings in their path with bone-shattering force.

Despite the brutal assault, the demons and Forsaken Cult members seemed only more determined to eliminate Anthony.

A fresh wave of attackers replaced those already defeated, their relentless charge closing in from all directions.

Yet Anthony remained unmoving.

He stood, unfazed.

Unflinching.

Unbothered.

Calm.

As the attacks converged upon him, a slight smirk tugged at his lips.

[Vector Zone: Null Drift]

In an instant, all incoming attacks froze mid-motion as they crossed into Anthony's Vector Zone.

Whether elemental or non-elemental, every assault came to an abrupt halt, suspended in time as though they had encountered an invisible wall.

This was a technique Anthony had crafted, using the principles of Infinity as its foundation.

"My turn"

Anthony's voice reverberated in their ears, like the beat of a war drum.

[Vector Arts: Inverse Pull]

In an instant, the very momentum of the attacks reversed, amplified by an overwhelming force.

With thunderous, ear-splitting booms, the redirected attacks slammed back into their originators, detonating with devastating power upon the attackers themselves.

Screams echoed across the battlefield, piercing the chaos.

"Don't breathe it in! One of them used a poison-based attack! The air is contaminated!"

A shout cut through the noise, but it was already too late for some.

The first signs of the poison's effects were evident, bodies began to turn a sickly green as their systems reacted violently.

Convulsions wracked their forms, their nerves firing in disarray, sending erratic signals throughout their bodies.

Blood poured from every orifice.

There were no healers among the recruits.

The healer recruits was a separate department, they weren't stationed together with the battle recruits.

All they could do now was endure.

Those with minor healing abilities attempted to mend their bodies.

But it was futile.

Each breath invited the poison anew, rendering their efforts meaningless.

The moment they healed themselves, the next inhale brought the toxin surging back through their veins.

They couldn't simply hold their breath forever.

Even the vampires, known for their remarkable regenerative capabilities, began to falter.

Their bodies instinctively repaired physical damage, but regeneration alone was insufficient against the invasive nature of toxins, venoms, and corrosive agents.

Of course, this weakness stemmed from their current mana rank and the purity of their bloodline.

A vampire of higher standing, one with refined blood and elevated rank, would have easily resisted such effects to a significant degree.

'I'm really the only one with a proper healing ability here'

Anthony thought.

But thought did not hinder motion.

[Light Magic: Purifying Radiance]

A radiant magic circle bloomed beneath Anthony's feet, golden-white and inscribed with intricate runes that turned in slow, deliberate arcs.

From it, luminous threads of light spiraled into the air like sunlight given form.

The atmosphere shifted at once.

The air warmed, the poison lost its hold, and a gentle golden hue bathed the battlefield.

The miasma that had once clouded the air shimmered, fractured, and dissolved into harmless particles of light that drifted away like stardust.

Even recruits who stood on the brink of death stirred once more.

The magic surged outward like a tide, restoring life and clarity, dragging them back from the edge.

The demons and Forsaken Cult members clicked their tongues in unison, irritation bleeding into their expressions.

This is exactly why healers are always the first to die in war.

Their spells reversed, their efforts undone, undermined by a single incantation.

It was infuriating.

A demon, cloaked in shadows, raised his hand without hesitation.

[Dark Magic: Black Bind]

Chaos energy churned violently, coalescing into tendrils of pitch black force that spiraled toward Anthony.

Like serpents, they slithered through the air and wrapped around him, seeking to restrain.

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But the moment they made contact, his body shimmered, bathed in a translucent glow of raw mana.

The bindings dissolved instantly, stripped of form and purpose, as if reality itself rejected them.

Anthony didn't even blink.

But he responded to the attack with one of his own.

[Vector Pulse: Linear Crash]

A subtle, glowing arrow materialized beneath Anthony's feet, then, in the blink of an eye, it surged forward like a railgun discharge.

The demon had no time to react; its head was obliterated in an instant.

But Anthony wasn't done.

[Vector Force: Living Magnetism]

A pulse of invisible energy radiated from Anthony, warping the air with a subtle shimmer.

Faint glowing lines traced themselves across the forms of every living being nearby, human, elf, or dwarf, marking them like prey caught in a snare.

In a heartbeat, they were wrenched toward him, their bodies dragged helplessly by an unseen, inescapable force.

Just as they neared, mere meters from him, Anthony invoked Null Drift, arresting their momentum in an eerie suspension.

Time itself seemed to pause around him.

They hovered in the air, paralyzed.

Their eyes, wide with dread, locked onto his.

They understood.

What came next, was death.

Anthony's voice echoed once more, calm, resolute, and final.

[Vector Slash: Guillotine Orbit]

A dozen razor thin vector lines erupted around him in a perfect, horizontal ring, spinning with surgical precision at neck height.

They shimmered like phantoms, invisible to the eye yet fatal in purpose.

For a heartbeat, the air thrummed with taut, lethal silence.

Then, carnage.

The hum was broken by a crimson spray as heads were severed cleanly, the precise arcs of force slicing through flesh and bone with mathematical perfection.

Bodies crumpled to the ground in unison, a symphony of dull, final thuds.

Anthony had no time for drawn out battles.

No continuous exchange of attacks.

No theatrics.

He dismantled every being and nullified every strike, regardless of strength, his vector manipulation reducing all resistance to ash and silence.