MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 250 Son

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.

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.