MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 942: Subtle Influence

Lucian sprawled across the ground, his gaze vacant and hazy as he fixed it on the gradually mending heavens of the isolated realm. Fissures within the constructed vault repaired themselves like vital wounds sealing closed, threads of waning brilliance interlacing until the scars of the conflict slowly vanished, yielding a falsely tranquil peace.

He couldn't decide if fury, self-reproach, or complete detachment suited the moment best. Sentiments twisted into a sluggish, weighty tangle that stubbornly held fast. In truth, his sole defeat against Anthony carried a peculiar, somewhat acrid familiarity—foreseen, anticipated, hardly deserving of astonishment.

From the outset, he had anticipated this loss; that very foresight explained his reluctance to confront Anthony as Aaaninja and Aura Nova had done. He favored watching from afar over slamming into an unbreakable barrier he recognized as impassable.

Yet Aura Nova’s words had pierced his resolve.

He, seldom swayed by others' arguments, who rarely let feelings or motivation cloud his decisions, found himself altered by her influence, as if a faint ember of vanity had flared where none belonged.

Once committed to challenging Anthony, he vowed to unleash everything... or nearly so, since inwardly he withheld a reserve. He retained a power gained after joining Anthony against the Demon King’s clone. Though its sudden arrival puzzled him then, Lucian, aware of ???’s presence, swiftly realized ??? had likely granted him this extraordinary gift. No other logic explained such an inexplicable emergence.

That power served as his ultimate weapon, the concealed masterstroke up his sleeve, the decisive strike he trusted could reverse a dire outcome.

Still, he refrained from deploying it versus Anthony for twofold causes. First, during the clash, none of his moves—neither skills nor tactics nor precision strikes—had fazed Anthony, so why expect this hidden edge to fare better? Indeed, the ace was overwhelmingly dominant, defying all reason to an extreme degree, yet what assurance existed that ??? hadn't bestowed upon Anthony an even more shattered counter, one poised to shatter his final gambit instantly?

Moreover, a secret weapon thrives in obscurity. Once revealed, scrutinized, and countered, it forfeits its potency. Thus, unveiling it now would prompt Aura Nova and Aaaninja to craft defenses against his secret edge, breaking it down until surprise evaporated. Mere knowledge could transform wonders into mundanity.

Similar to Aura Nova’s Root Access Mode, countermeasures were already forming against that outrageous power, for such was the nature of duels among titans.

Ultimately, he chose to reserve the ace solely for Aaaninja, excluding all others. Aura Nova shone with talent and might, gifted beyond doubt, yet Lucian deemed her a notch below him and Aaaninja, hindered by her delayed start—that elusive divide in savvy and intuition hard to bridge.

Additionally, he recognized Aaaninja harbored his own ace, probably another boon from ???, though Aaaninja would attribute it to innate genius, ignorant of ???’s role. Given Aaaninja’s mindset and habits, Lucian felt certain he’d unleash this fresh power on Anthony boldly, staking all on one pivotal instant.

’Truly an overpowered character,’ he reflected inwardly, lingering doubts fading as he embraced his circumstances. Triumphing over Anthony equated to besting ??? or the Author themselves, a supreme force shaping destinies from on high like a deity scripting tales with ink.

’No amount of gifts from any reader will change that,’ he pondered while remaining prone on the soil, eyes locked on the heavens as if beholding one anew after ages, his thoughts eerily still amid the inner tempest.

’Is he just overpowered, or is there a reason none of my attacks worked against him?’ Lucian’s mind persisted. Before his rebirth, Anthony’s injuries in the tale numbered fewer than fingers on a hand. Lucian had hoped at least to graze him, a mere scratch perhaps, but he couldn’t even tousle his locks, much less draw blood. The disparity bordered on farce.

Unbeknownst to Lucian, regardless of his efforts, futility awaited against Anthony... save for a total racial shift to something alien, like a vampire or other inhuman form, coupled with might rivaling Anthony’s absurd prowess.

After all, Anthony embodied the Perfect Human. His lineage’s inherent trait nullified assaults from fellow humans lacking Perfect or Primordial Bloodline status, rendering them void before impact. But Lucian remained oblivious, and as a human combatant, defeat loomed inevitable from the outset.

Naturally, even sans his Perfect Bloodline’s safeguard, Lucian’s blows would prove ineffective. Post his century-long retreat, Anthony’s strength transcended ordinary measures, entering uncharted realms.

Even now, Anthony pondered if the renowned Demon King’s authentic form could truly challenge him. Such was his staggering supremacy.

Thus, this skirmish, a mere ruse for the Captain title to test mettle, held no value. Lucian, Aura Nova, and Kingsley—all human—faced predestined failure, mirroring Lucian’s own.

Solely Aaaninja, the Celestial non-human, held potential to harm Anthony. But did such potential truly exist? One percent qualified as opportunity, even 0.00001% technically did. Post his impending clash with Anthony, would comprehension dawn that Anthony formed an insurmountable barrier.

’Hey, System, it isn’t too late to change your function, you know,’ Lucian contemplated idly, addressing his constant ally.

[What do you mean, Host?]

The System inquired, curious if its host courted peril anew after the thrashing from the lead character.

’I mean, why can’t you be like those binding systems, you know, the ones where people who reincarnate in a novel bind themselves to the protagonist and gain like a hundred times or even a thousand times whatever the protagonist gains?’ he queried lightheartedly, flashing a psychic smirk at the System.

The System fell silent at Lucian’s remark. Were it capable, its tongue would have tsked in irritation at his brazen avarice.

[It isn’t too late to uninstall myself, Host]

It shot back tonelessly, challenging him outright.

’Look at you, all angry. If you leave, you won’t witness the end of the story. I’m just saying you should maybe upgrade yourself or something,’ Lucian countered once more.

This round, the System held its peace. It discerned plainly that its avaricious Host coveted the protagonist’s powers, scheming to amplify them hundredfold at least.

Such daunting avarice.

Still, spurred by Lucian’s suggestion, the System pondered if a method existed to evade Anthony’s safeguards, enabling its Host to replicate those abilities.

Yet the System remained unaware that its Host, Lucian, was quietly reshaping its perspectives, nudging it toward perilous, suicidal notions it was never designed to entertain.