MIGHT AS WELL BE OP
Chapter 166: Entrance

The banquet hall was a masterpiece of elegance, its grandeur reflecting the significance of the occasion.

Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow across the room, bathing the polished marble floors and intricate carvings in a golden light.

Luxurious draperies in shades of deep crimson and royal gold framed towering windows, through which the moonlight spilled, adding a silvery sheen to the room's ambiance.

The hall was filled with guests, members of the most esteemed families, not just from the human domain but from other races as well.

The Amos, Crimson, Lionheart, Landell, and Stella families, each a powerhouse in their own right, stood out amongst the human delegation.

Their leaders exuded authority and pride, each knowing their influence extended far beyond their respective domains.

From the Titan race, the Storm brothers commanded attention, their colossal frames and striking features unmistakable.

Fairies, with their luminous wings, flitted about gracefully, while dragons in their humanoid forms radiated an innate majesty.

The elven dignitaries moved with a poise that spoke of centuries of wisdom, and the vampire contingent, cloaked in dark elegance, observed the proceedings with piercing eyes.

Amid the subtle tension of alliances and rivalries, Michael Null, Anthony's father, stood at the center of it all.

A figure of authority and composure, he moved through the room, greeting the heads of the attending human families with measured politeness.

"Lionel Amos"

Michael began, extending a hand toward the Amos patriarch, a man of imposing stature with graying temples that spoke of experience.

"It's been some time since we last met"

Lionel clasped Michael's hand firmly, his lips curling into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Indeed, Michael. Time has a way of passing swiftly when one is occupied with matters of import"

Michael nodded, his gaze unwavering.

"And the Amos family, as always, thrives, I presume?"

"Naturally"

Lionel replied, his tone tinged with pride.

"We've secured alliances that ensure our continued prosperity"

As their hands released, Michael turned toward the next head, Rufus Crimson, a striking man whose fiery red hair and sharp features mirrored the intensity of his family's reputation.

"Rufus, it's good to see you again"

Michael said, his tone slightly and almost unnoticeably warmer.

There was a shared history between the Crimson and Null families, cemented by the bond between Irene and Collins, then he and Mitchelle.

Rufus inclined his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. Continue your journey on m|v-l'e m,p| y- r

"Michael, always the consummate host. I trust Mitchelle has been keeping you on your toes?"

Michael chuckled lightly.

"She certainly ensures life is never dull"

Their exchange was brief but genuine, a stark contrast to the interactions that followed.

With the Lionheart patriarch, a stern man named Victor, and the Landell matriarch, a composed woman named Selene, the conversations were marked by formality.

Neither family hid the underlying tension that stemmed from their unspoken competition with the Null family.

"Michael"

Victor said with a curt nod.

"The banquet is impressive, though I must say it's rare to see so many gathered for a single boy's celebration"

Michael's smile didn't falter.

"Anthony is no ordinary boy, Victor. Surely, you've heard of his accomplishments, I'm sure that's what you are also here for, to see with your own eyes as people at standings such as yours won't attend such events"

Victor's eyes narrowed slightly, but he merely inclined his head.

"A prodigy, then. We'll see how far that brilliance carries him"

Selene Landell, on the other hand, offered a simple smile as she said.

"Michael, its nice seeing you again. The achievements of your son have truly caught the attention of many. Not just among the humans, but across all races. It's rare for one so young to hold such power and command, and I must admit, I'm curious to see how much more he will grow"

She uttered those words like she meant them, even with a cheerful tone.

Bu the room, filled with seasoned veterans of the political and social battlegrounds, understood this unspoken language all too well.

They knew that behind the veneer of cordiality and civility, there lingered a sharpness, a hint of something far more potent than the sweetness of her voice.

Each word, though sweetly delivered, held the quiet power of a hidden dagger, sharp and poised, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Michael met her gaze, but he didn't say anything in reply, he had no reason to follow her direction and play.

The exchanges continued until Michael reached the Stellar family.

The patriarch, Dorian, was a man of few words, but his sharp gaze conveyed much.

Their conversation was brief, a perfunctory acknowledgment of each other's presence.

Throughout these interactions, Michael remained composed, fully aware that many of these individuals harbored ill intentions toward his son.

Yet, for tonight, there was a fragile truce, upheld by the sanctity of the event and the sheer presence of the Null family's power.

As the guests mingled, a soft chime rang, silencing the room.

All eyes turned toward Mitchelle, who stood at the top of the grand staircase.

Her radiant presence commanded attention as she smiled warmly at the assembled crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen"

Mitchelle began, her voice resonant yet gentle.

"I thank you all for gracing us with your presence on this special day. Tonight, we celebrate not only the birthday of my beloved son but also his remarkable journey thus far"

Her eyes sparkled with affection as she continued.

"Allow me the honor of introducing the young man who has made us all proud, my son, Null Anthony"

As she called his name, the grand doors below the staircase opened, and Anthony stepped into view.

He moved with deliberate, measured steps, each one resonating through the hall like the beat of a drum.

His presence was magnetic, a quiet storm of calm intensity that commanded attention without a single word.

The skill "Emperor Demeanor" enveloped him, lending grace to his every movement, as though he walked not as a man, but as a ruler accustomed to the weight of authority.

His aura, poised yet powerful, rippled outward, making the air itself seem to tremble.

Anthony's striking features drew immediate gasps.

His gem-like blue eyes glowed with an inner light, sharp yet composed, scanning the room with quiet command.

His tall, robust physique stood with regal posture, exuding strength and an almost otherworldly air.

His white hair, cascading like silken strands of moonlight, shimmered with every movement, its ethereal glow captivating all who beheld it.

With each step, he seemed less a mere young man and more an emperor in the making, his presence weaving a silent promise of power and destiny.

As Anthony entered the room, the atmosphere seemed to shift, charged with the magnetic force of his presence.

The whispers and glances that passed between the guests were a silent acknowledgment of the power he held, the kind that did not need to be proclaimed aloud, for it was evident in every step, every movement, every flicker of his gaze.

And as the room fell silent in awe of his presence, it became clear, this was no ordinary young man, no simple heir to a legacy.

He was a force to be reckoned with, a future ruler whose potential burned brightly for all to see.

Whispers rippled through the crowd as Anthony approached the staircase, his gaze unwavering.

"He looks like he's been carved by the gods themselves"

One girl murmured, her cheeks flushed.

"That jawline" another sighed.

"And those eyes..."

A small group of girls exchanged excited glances, their admiration unabashed.

Anthony, ever perceptive, allowed a faint smile to grace his lips as he reached the top of the staircase.

Mitchelle extended a hand toward him, which he took briefly before addressing the room.

"Thank you all for coming"

He said, his voice steady and resonant.

"Your presence honors my family and I"

As he descended into the crowd, the girls who had been fawning over him gathered their courage and approached.

"Lord Anthony"

One began, her voice trembling slightly.

"It's an honor to meet you. I've heard so much about your feats"

Anthony smiled warmly.

"You're too kind. I hope the banquet meets your expectations"

Another girl stepped forward, her eyes sparkling.

"Lord Anthony, do you ever tire of all the attention you receive? Surely someone as accomplished as you must replace it overwhelming"

Anthony chuckled softly, his demeanor unflappable.

"Not at all. It's heartening to know my efforts are appreciated"

As the girls continued to engage him in conversation, Anthony found himself enjoying the lighthearted interaction.

Despite his composed exterior, a small part of him hoped that among these beauties, he might replace someone to stand by his side.

Meanwhile, his friends, Bryan and the Storm brothers, watched from a distance, their expressions a mix of amusement and approval.

"Anthony's got his hands full"

Bryan remarked with a grin.

"Think he'll replace his match tonight?"

One of the Storm brothers, Rider, shrugged.

"He might. But knowing Anthony, he'll be as deliberate in choosing a partner as he is in everything else"

Bringer, leaning casually against a pillar, called out

"Anthony, if you keep charming them like that, you'll leave none for the rest of us"

Anthony turned, his smile growing into a genuine laugh.

"Bringer, I suspect you'll manage just fine"

The Storm brothers, towering over everyone, approached with their typical swagger.

"Impressive entrance"

Said Rider.

His deep voice carried a note of approval.

"We've seen lesser men crumble under that kind of attention"

Added Bringer, grinning.

Anthony clasped forearms with each of them in turn.

"It's good to see you both here. I trust your journey wasn't too arduous?"

Bringer shrugged.

"A few skirmishes along the way, but nothing we couldn't handle"

Bryan chuckled.

"Of course not. You Titans love a good fight"

The group exchanged banter, their camaraderie evident despite their differences in race and upbringing.

The party progressed with elegance and grandeur, the atmosphere brimming with a blend of cordiality and thinly veiled competitiveness.

As the string quartet played a soothing melody in the background, attendees began to approach Anthony, each bearing intricately wrapped gifts that seemed as much a display of wealth as they were tokens of goodwill.

Anthony stood at the center of it all, a picture of calm and poise.

With his "Emperor Demeanor" skill still radiating an aura of authority, he accepted each gift with a polite smile, his movements deliberate and regal.

His gem-like blue eyes shimmered as he acknowledged the givers with a courteous nod, though there was no true excitement in his expression.

The truth was simple: Anthony had no need for these offerings.

He was wealthier than most of the people in the room could even fathom.

The fortunes contained within these gilded boxes, rare artifacts, priceless jewels, and promises of alliances, were inconsequential compared to the resources at his disposal.

Yet, he played his role impeccably, understanding the significance of such gestures in this intricate dance of power and status.

A woman from the Elf race presented a silver chest lined with emeralds, claiming it held an ancient elven artifact of immense historical value.

A Dragon clan emissary, towering over the others, offered an ornate, fire-etched blade said to have been forged in the flames of their ancestors.

A Vampire noble handed over a vial of luminous crimson liquid, whispered to be a rare essence that could enhance mana flow.

Each gift was presented with words of admiration and subtle undertones of hope for favor.

Anthony accepted them all with the same measured grace.

"Thank you"

He said, his voice steady yet warm enough to maintain the illusion of gratitude.

He knew better than to dismiss their efforts outright; such acts, however trivial they might seem to him, carried weight in the political web of their world.

To the untrained eye, his calm acceptance might have seemed indifferent.

But to those who understood Anthony, it was evident that his poise was deliberate, a masterful blend of humility and quiet dominance.

Even as the guests whispered among themselves, speculating about the value of the gifts and their implications, Anthony remained an unshakable figure of composure.

As the line of givers dwindled, a faint smile touched his lips.

Not out of interest in the gifts but as a subtle acknowledgment of the effort made by those present.

To Anthony, this display was less about material gain and more about solidifying his standing in this intricate world of alliances, rivalries, and silent conflicts.

The night continued with an air of quiet reverence around Anthony, his stature and grace drawing admiration and envy in equal measure.

Yet, within himself, he remained detached, his mind turning to matters far greater than the gleaming treasures now piled at his feet.

.....

Author's Note

I officially announce the end of this arc

What do you think I have in mind for the upcoming arc