MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 1057: Come Forth

Bringer wore a serene smile while reviewing all the gains he'd achieved, his face showing deep contentment as he absorbed the magnitude of his progress.

With a powerful grip, he tightened his fist, sending a faint vibration through the air as a gentle burst of wind erupted around him from that mere motion, the ambient air subtly responding to the immense power in such a basic gesture. His muscles had grown even larger, making him bulkier and his build more chiseled and formidable than previously.

Mana vibrated around him as he reveled in his vastly expanded mana reserves, surging through his veins with a polished and potent flow. He itched to leap into combat and experiment with his enhanced abilities, to fully gauge his leap forward, but regrettably, this aircraft lacked a built-in training area.

His form blurred into afterimages as he dashed across the room, probing his velocity, every motion sharp yet swift enough to warp vision.

"Okay, that's plenty, you've flaunted it enough in our faces," Rider remarked, shaking his head with jealousy; he regretted not chiming in sooner. The others could only gawk as Bringer zipped through the control room, their gazes failing to follow his speed. Moments later, he settled back into his seat, pleased with his effortless advancement, his look one of poised assurance.

Moreover, he had reached Emperor Mana Rank Level 8 now; just one more step and he'd hit Level 9, then enter the Sovereign realm, widening the divide between him and the rest by two Major Mana Ranks. His smile widened into a grin at the prospect, thrilled by the notion of pulling even further ahead, though he wasn't alone in that realization, as the others pondered it too.

Witnessing Bringer's breakthrough fueled their own urgency to advance quicker, sparking a hunger for improvement in every heart. The rivalry from five years back reignited right then, as they exchanged silent glances filled with strategic schemes. Though they'd been disconnected for those five years without direct competition, the past was past, and now the old contest stirred once more.

"So, Anthony, fill us in on the Galaxy and the Starborn Tournament," Tiara said, shifting the subject abruptly, weary of Bringer's brazen show and the vibe it stirred.

Anthony snapped his fingers once more, conjuring illusory visions before the group as he revealed all his knowledge of the Starborn Tournament, the area ahead blooming with striking scenes. He presented diverse races, detailing their natural talents thoroughly to highlight the immense variety out there, and wrapped up with the outcomes, omitting no key details.

A heavy silence fell over them all as they fixated on the projection; the Galaxy struck them as overwhelmingly vast and boundless, exceeding their wildest expectations.

"If someone claimed that Dragons, Titans, Vampires, Phoenixes, Fairies, and others rank only mid-tier in the Galaxy, I'd never buy it," Bryan muttered, eyeing the elite races in Anthony's display, his tone laced with incredulity.

"I'd question it as well," Rider added, gazing at the top ten Starborn Tournament victors; none hailed from their kind, a reality that burdened his mind.

"You're overlooking the key detail," Bringer interjected calmly. "Despite the top races' dominance, Humans claimed First, Third, and Fourth places," he pointed out, spotlighting a vital fact.

"Yeah, Charles Evander and Lucian Darkheart are insanely strong," Tiara remarked in awe at the fights depicted in the illusion, the epic power levels etching a lasting mark.

"But Anthony, aren't you a Magic Swordsman? How are you summoning like Charles now? Who are those dark troops?" Bryan queried, recalling Anthony's class; while he wielded magic too, summoners formed an entirely separate path.

Anthony grinned lightly and replied, "It's an innate skill of mine, unrelated to my class. I've possessed it since our Omni Peak Academy time," he explained evenly, providing no more details.

Before words could form from the others, Anthony commanded, "Come forth."

His words stirred the shadows beneath their feet in the control room, twisting eerily as if obeying him, and from the gloom, dozens of shadows ascended—Beru, Igris, Bellion, George—standing firm as their shapes took solid form. Even with their auras held back, an oppressive force lingered in the air, bearing down invisibly on everything nearby.

Bryan, Tiara, Rider, and Bringer gulped involuntarily at the view; merely eyeing any shadow soldier evoked a chill of mortality, a primal dread they couldn't shake.

"Not my full force, just what fits in this control room," Anthony noted nonchalantly, as if such formidable might were commonplace.

"My liege, ages have passed since you summoned us," Beru, the shadow ant, spoke first per usual, disregarding the rest to stare at Anthony with longing eyes. Post-Fractured World mission, Anthony hadn't called them again, dooming them to shadow idleness.

"It's been some time, Master," Igris saluted like the ideal knight, his poise impeccable, black sword at his side, black cape billowing sans any breeze in the sealed room.

"Good to see you once more, my Lord," Bellion, the Fallen Angel, welcomed, wings unfurled behind him, exuding tranquil command.

Anthony returned smiles to the trio while the other soldiers remained mute. Though sentient and sharp-minded, they refrained from the familiarity of Beru, Igris, and Bellion, upholding rigid order.

Anthony addressed Beru, still awaiting his response. "You must know of the Angels; when they arrive, I'll call you all for some action," he promised with a grin, hinting at excitement ahead.

Beru's face lit with joy; endless shadow training had grown tedious over eternity. A sly grin crossed his ant features as he eyed Bellion, "Looks like I'll slaughter your Angel kin."

Bellion shook his head, retorting, "How often must I say I'm not connected to them?" he sighed wearily. Though an Angel too, he bore no ties to those Divinora Galaxy winged pests.