MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 463: Friendly Neighbourhood Lieutenant

The Hyperion demon narrowed his gaze at the new insect who had dared to intercept his attack.

His eyes settled on the figure standing with unnerving ease, one finger effortlessly pressed against the blade of his sword.

A human.

"And who might you be, human?"

He asked, his voice low and laced with a chilling undertone, eyes glinting with lethal intent.

The rest of the group struggled to even perceive his casual strikes, let alone withstand them, yet this human had stopped one with ease.

As for Seraphim, the only reason she had survived his onslaught was because he had held back. He had no intention of inflicting lethal damage, not yet.

After all, what pleasure was there in playing with a body already on the verge of collapse?

"Oh, me?"

Anthony said with a relaxed smile.

"I figured you'd know, given how popular I've become among your kind"

By now, the demons had gathered military-grade intelligence on him, his cultivation rank, abilities, and techniques.

A nineteen year old at the Ecliptic rank.

They couldn't afford to let him live long enough to finish attempting the impossible he was already attempting.

And the fact that he was the descendant of three Supreme Monarchs?

That was just an added incentive.

Anthony continued to speak, seemingly untouched by the carnage unfolding around him.

"Well, since you're unfamiliar, allow me to introduce myself"

He said, still smiling.

"I'm your friendly neighborhood Lieutenant, Null Anthony"

At his words, the very air seemed to pause.

Then, it thickened, growing heavy, suffocating, as if reality itself had inhaled and refused to exhale.

In that instant, Dale vanished from where he stood. The moment Anthony arrived, he knew instinctively: it was wiser to distance himself.

He reappeared beside Reynold, who lay crumpled on the ground, blood pouring from his wounds.

The mana potion they had was nowhere near enough, Reynold's hands remained mangled, far beyond the reach of simple restoration.

The moment the Hyperion processed Anthony's words, he launched into motion.

There were no words. No hesitation.

Only intent, and a lethal one at that.

His sword vanished from sight as his body surged forward, a foot leaving the ground in a burst of power.

The air itself buckled and imploded around him, distorting violently as his foot blurred toward Anthony's temple, like a sledgehammer of pure force aimed to end it all in a single, decisive strike.

Anthony's expression didn't waver, his calm demeanor untouched, but his response was instantaneous.

His arm snapped forward toward the incoming kick with an almost insulting precision, his movement fluid, effortless, graceful, even.

Then came the collision.

With a world-shaking blast, the Hyperion's foot slammed into Anthony's forearm.

The wind erupted violently from the impact, howling outward in a storm of pressure, but the ground beneath Anthony's feet remained untouched.

Not a crack. Not a tremor.

He had absorbed the full force of the attack as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze.

"Hm. An Ecliptic rank stopping a blow from a Hyperion?"

The demon mused, eyes narrowing as he watched Anthony absorb the impact without flinching.

"You're certainly not ordinary, then again, your entire existence defies normality"

A twisted smile crept across his face.

"Killing you will be a delight. I'll take my time, then present your head to one of the Demon Monarchs myself"

But Anthony didn't respond.

He simply moved.

In a fluid motion, the same forearm that had blocked the kick snapped upward, clamping around the Hyperion's ankle with unbreakable force.

Without pause, Anthony yanked the demon forward, and in that same breath, his fist surged ahead, a blur of merciless power, rocketing straight toward the demon's skull.

But the Hyperion was no novice, he was a battle-hardened demon with millennia of experience etched into every movement.

Even off-balance, his instincts were razor-sharp. His hand moved with uncanny precision, deflecting Anthony's punch aside as if redirecting a breeze.

In the same instant, his elbow fired back like a missile, aimed straight for Anthony's chest.

Sensing the strike, Anthony released his grip on the demon's leg and disengaged, his body flowing backward in a controlled retreat.

Both fighters landed silently a few meters apart, their eyes locked, measuring, calculating.

The air between them pulsed with tension, as if the very space waited for the next clash.

The Hyperion's gaze hardened, sharp and unfaltering, after all, this was a mission entrusted by beings of far greater power.

Anthony's eyes, in contrast, danced with a hint of amusement.

"It appears I'll have to kill a lot of your kind after I kill you since you people already have a bounty on my head. It's only fair"

He said, a wry smile curling at his lips.

Then, as if commanded by fate itself, both combatants vanished in an instant.

When they reappeared, their fists collided with brutal force.

Shockwaves erupted from the impact, obliterating any weaker demons caught in the blast.

Anthony and the Hyperion moved with astonishing speed, mere blurs of motion, relying solely on raw physical power and relentless momentum.

Every muscle, every limb became a weapon in motion, each strike designed to cripple, to end the battle before death sealed its inevitable outcome.

Their bodies crossed kilometers in mere instants, a dance teetering on the edge of madness itself.

Anthony's elbow descended like the grave verdict of a judge, crashing down upon the Hyperion's temple.

With a sickening bam, the strike landed, parting the wind as the demon was sent hurtling sideways.

A trickle of blood stained the corner of his lips, but he remained unfazed. Mid flight, his body twisted effortlessly, coming to a sudden halt as he floated suspended in the air.

But Anthony was already there, his legs blazing forward like a comet, aimed straight for the demon's stomach.

But the demon did not flinch.

A Hyperion retreating before the strike of an Ecliptic ranker? Unthinkable.

His fists clenched tightly as raw power surged through his muscles, igniting like a charging engine.

Then, with fierce expression, he thrust his punch forward, colliding head-on with Anthony's incoming kick.

The impact was cataclysmic.

The earth beneath them shattered instantly, jagged cracks spiderwebbing outward under the immense force.

Dust storms erupted, and rocks and pebbles blasted away like mere fragments.

But it wasn't just debris sent flying, the demon's body was hurled backward through the dust, his fist failing to halt the relentless assault.

With a thunderous boom, the demon's body crashed repeatedly into the earth, finally skidding to a halt within a deep crater.

The ground pulsed violently beneath him, energy radiating outward like ripples from an explosion as he slowly rose to his feet.

His steps were steady, unhurried.

His expression, cold, unreadable.

His eyes, deadly and piercing.

Despite failing to block Anthony's last strike, he showed no sign of injury.

His gaze locked onto the swirling dust before him, where a shadowy silhouette began to emerge, stepping forward with a calm, measured rhythm.

The Hyperion's eyes ignited with a deadly blaze as his sword materialized in his grasp.

His presence surged, engulfing the battlefield with an oppressive force, as if intent on drowning the very sky itself.

Then, Sword Intent exploded from his being, an uncontrolled, savage tempest that shredded everything within its reach: demons, humans, abominations, trees, rocks, nothing escaped its devastating fury.

Anthony merely smiled, with deliberate calm, he unsheathed his katana.

A sharp, hissing sound pierced the air, resonating across the open expanse as if the world itself amplified the sound.

His own Sword Intent blossomed, not with wild destruction, but as a controlled, radiant presence that enveloped his blade and cloaked his entire body.

Weapons were drawn.

Sword Intent flared to life.

Lives stood poised on the edge.

And only one certainty remained:

Death.