MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 1124: Pain

Agony.This was the sensation engulfing them at this very moment.An agony surpassing any they had ever known, far exceeding the limits of their life experiences. They, who had reached the Planetary level and considered pain a mere trifle, beings whose bodies barely registered injuries, were now convulsing, their very existence trembling under a torment that dwarfed anything they had previously endured.Michael, Irene, Mitchelle, and Collins cried out in unison, their screams rending the air as if their realities were being torn asunder, as if unseen entities were flaying their souls. When Anthony had spoken of pain earlier, they had dismissed it, confident in their exceptionally high pain thresholds, assuming it would be a minor inconvenience. But now... they all understood... their assumptions were profoundly mistaken.Their overlapping cries echoed, a cacophony of suffering. In this moment, their esteemed titles—Sword Saint, Saintess of the World, Lightning God, Crimson Witch of Destruction—mattered not. The pain served as a brutal reminder: no matter their power, they were still mortals susceptible to agony.Anthony watched, frozen in disbelief. He had expected them to withstand it, assuming that if Spectre and the others could endure, surely his parents and grandparents could too.But his earlier thoughts now seemed tragically, painfully naive.Previously, when he had employed the Blood Servant technique on Spectre and the others, they were all within the Mortal Rank. The modifications the golden blood initiated were minor, as their existences were less developed, their foundations still fragile and easily reshaped.However, Michael, Mitchelle, Irene, and Collins were vastly different. Having existed for over a millennium and achieved the Planetary level, their existences were deeply established and stable. The transformations they were now undergoing were naturally far more immense and agonizing, requiring their entire beings to be forcefully rewritten and reshaped into something entirely new, in real-time.Michael’s body convulsed erratically. He vomited thick, heavy blood, his frame spasming uncontrollably. His bones shattered to a degree previously unimaginable, fractures multiplying endlessly. His flesh peeled away as if the process sought to strip him bare, reducing him to a raw, fundamental state.Irene’s screams, meanwhile, were the most piercing, reaching an almost inhuman pitch. As a healer whose purpose was to alleviate suffering rather than endure it, she possessed the lowest pain tolerance among them. Her once lustrous, perfectly styled crimson hair began to detach in large clumps, as if afflicted by a sudden, aggressive ailment.Blood streamed from her eyes, thick, crimson tears flowing without cease. Fluid also poured from her ears, her eardrums ruptured by the immense pressure. Though she could no longer hear in the conventional sense, she could paradoxically still perceive the echo of her own agonizing cries.Collins clasped his chest, the sensation within him akin to a collapsing black hole, crushing his very heart inward with an immeasurable force. His ribs splintered violently, piercing through every internal organ. Each fragment twisted and contorted impossibly, transforming his insides into a grotesque, nightmarish tableau.Mitchelle felt as though her very soul was consumed by flames. The pain transcended the physical, delving into something far deeper and more profound. It felt as if a higher entity was actively rewriting her DNA, her sense of self, her very state of being, altering the fundamental essence of her existence.Puddles of blood expanded beneath them. Sweat drenched their bodies, their clothing tearing under the immense strain. Their life forces dwindled with each passing second, their presence flickering precariously between existence and oblivion.Their natural regeneration, an innate ability tied to their Apexus Mana Rank, proved entirely ineffective. It was as if an external power had completely suppressed it. Every torn piece of flesh, every crushed bone, every severed ligament, every twisted cartilage remained unaltered, unrepaired, unhealed. Their very essence burned like a sacrifice to an unseen deity, being systematically erased and rewritten, their blood thinning with alarming rapidity.

Anthony remained motionless, a spectator to a scene he'd never imagined. His parents, usually so composed, were reduced to a fragile, broken state. He recalled a time when even during Mitchelle's forceful rescue from the Demon hideout during his Omni Peak Academy days, her voice, though laden with killing intent, had been a controlled, low tone. Never had he witnessed them, or even himself, endure such a sight.

A sharp pain pierced his chest as he observed their angu loved ones screaming and suffering. Doubt began to gnaw at Anthony; had he made the wrong choice? Perhaps he should have simply transferred them into the Mirror Dimension during his Ascension, sparing them this agonizing trial.

Yet, he quickly rebuked himself, pushing away the wavering thoughts. Even if he had made that choice, his parents might have become dependent on him, lacking the inherent talent to survive independently in that realm. Besides, he reasoned, Clement and the others had endured and survived; surely his parents and grandparents could too.

His thoughts inevitably wandered to Donna and the others from his past. During their ordeal, they had fainted, momentarily escaping the pain, making their experience less harrowing. Anthony couldn't help but wish his parents and grandparents would share the same fate, even if only to grant them a brief respite from their suffering.

But how could beings positioned at the Pinnacle of the Mana Rank simply faint? Their minds were too robust, their wills too unyielding. In reality, they believed holding on was crucial to completing the process, mistakenly assuming that succumbing to unconsciousness would lead to outright failure.

Anthony could only stand by, his fists clenched so tightly they ached, their continuous screams echoing in his ears.

Tempting as it was to intervene with a skill or ability to alleviate their pain, he found himself paralyzed by a cascade of 'what if' scenarios. What if his interference led to their demise? What if it resulted in them gaining less than they were meant to? Or worse, what if it caused the entire process to collapse, rendering their suffering entirely in vain?

Thus, with a storm of questions raging within his mind, he remained rooted to the spot, poised to spring into action the instant the ordeal concluded.

'Perhaps I should have enlisted ???'s aid to remove the pain aspect for them,' he mused internally, only to shake his head and dismiss the notion. After all, without ???'s involvement, this very opportunity would not have existed.

With that, he watched with a deepening frown as his parents' and grandparents' forms seemed to dissolve into a grotesque, amorphous mass of unstable flesh, resembling pus. This transformation had not occurred during his previous use of the Blood Servant ability, adding to his concern.

However, before he could take a decisive step or make any impulsive moves, an extraordinary energy permeated the entirety of the Mirror Dimension, effortlessly bypassing its inherent restrictions as if they were non-existent.