MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 446: Grand Marshals

In a vast chamber adorned with obsidian-black walls and a pristine white ceiling, a grand circular table dominated the center of the otherwise unremarkable room.

Seated around the table were seven distinct figures.

They hailed from seven different races, Human, Dragon, Elf, Phoenix, Vampire, Werefox, and Titan.

Each one bore the esteemed title of Grand Marshal, a rank reserved for those who had transcended the Exarch cultivation realm.

Beings of such stature were not merely leaders, they were legends.

Yet despite their immense power, despite the weight of their titles and the authority they wielded, the room felt strikingly ordinary.

So ordinary, in fact, that an ordinary passerby, unaware of the truth, might step inside and leave believing these were nothing more than ordinary individuals gathered around a table.

It was the Elf who broke the silence first, his voice composed yet edged with fatigue.

"Grand Marshal Alaric"

He began, his gaze steady.

"We concluded a meeting mere minutes ago. Why have you summoned us again?"

The others remained silent.

None of them were fond of meetings.

Bureaucracy, even in the highest echelons, was an unwanted burden, but a burden they understood was necessary.

Grand Marshal Alaric, the human, did not respond with words.

Instead, he simply raised his hand and snapped his fingers, a subtle signal, yet one that carried unmistakable authority.

A response followed immediately.

The chamber doors parted with a slow, deliberate groan as Captain Hale, his trusted aide, stepped into the room.

In his arms, he carried a stack of neatly bound files.

Without uttering a word, he moved with practiced precision, placing a file before each of the seated Grand Marshals.

His every motion was fluid, his demeanor respectful, punctuated by slight bows to each individual, regardless of their race or power.

And just as silently as he had entered, Captain Hale exited the room the moment his task was complete, the doors closing behind him with a soft finality.

None of the Grand Marshals spoke.

In perfect synchrony, their hands moved, lifting the files before them.

The rustle of paper was the only sound that followed.

Seconds ticked by.

Then, silence.

A silence so absolute, it seemed to press in on the room, heavy and suffocating.

Not a whisper. Not a breath.

Even the air itself felt as though it had been caught in a moment of suspended stillness.

The atmosphere shifted, tension blossoming in an instant, sharp and suffocating, like a blade drawn in a quiet room.

Grand Marshal Alaric had handed them the very same documents that Colonel Vazeryth had given him.

And unsurprisingly, as each set of eyes scanned the contents, every Marshal arrived at the same chilling conclusion Alaric had already reached.

"How true is this?"

The voice rumbled from the far end of the table, deep, resonant, and laced with restrained force.

Though the Titan Grand Marshal had kept his voice low, the very structure of the room seemed to tremble in response, as if the walls themselves acknowledged his presence.

Unfazed, Grand Marshal Alaric replied with quiet certainty.

"The details regarding the artifact were verified by Zhyravel Veylanthar himself"

A new tension swept through the chamber, thicker, heavier, more oppressive than before.

The mere mention of Zhyravel's name changed the air.

There was no room left for doubt.

If he had appraised the artifact, then the information they held was beyond dispute.

"Who were the ones assigned to this mission?"

The voice, elegant yet edged with command, cut through the heavy silence.

"We need to question them directly. Ensure no detail was overlooked. Every fragment of information is critical"

It came from the Vampire Grand Marshal.

She sat poised, her crimson eyes gleaming with restrained intensity.

Her skin, pale as moonlight, contrasted sharply with the cascading river of red hair that flowed down her back.

Her figure, curvaceous and commanding, exuded both beauty and undeniable authority.

"This is true"

Came another voice in agreement, soft yet laced with concern.

"Besides, we're dealing with a higher galaxy here. Our knowledge is limited. We can't even confirm the target is truly dead. What if… he transferred his soul into one of them?"

The voice belonged to the Werefox Grand Marshal, sharp-eyed, with a perceptiveness that often caught what others missed.

His words, though speculative, sent a ripple through the room.

Around the table, heads began to nod in solemn agreement.

Even among Grand Marshals, there were few things more unsettling than the unknown, especially when it involved higher galaxie.

With another crisp snap of his fingers, Grand Marshal Alaric summoned his aide once more.

The doors opened almost immediately as Captain Hale stepped into the room.

"Retrieve the files on the team that completed the Bleeding Hollow mission. You have three minutes"

Alaric commanded, his voice cool and precise, leaving no room for delay.

Captain Hale didn't speak.

He offered a sharp bow mid-stride, then vanished in a blur, his figure reduced to nothing more than a streak of motion.

He returned in less than two minutes, silent and efficient as always, a stack of files in hand.

Each folder bore a name, Anthony, Kingsley, Seraphim, Dale, Reynold.

Contained within them was every detail: from the moment each soldier first stepped into the military base for their initial trial, to their most recent assignment.

Nothing had been omitted.

"Why was this white-haired human boy promoted directly from Private to Lieutenant, and placed as captain of his team?"

The voice was low, rumbling with restrained power.

It came from the Dragon Grand Marshal, his golden eyes narrowing as he studied the contents of the file.

"A nineteen year old human child"

He continued,

"Who had only just completed his mandatory military training… suddenly vaulted from the bottom of the ranks without a single mission to his name. No field experience. No battle record. Nothing"

A second voice followed, smoother, but no less cutting.

The Phoenix Grand Marshal leaned forward, her amber eyes glowing faintly as the heat in her words built like a slow-burning flame.

"Have you begun to abuse your authority, Grand Marshal Alaric?"

She asked, her tone rising with quiet accusation.

"Promoting a human to such a degree?"

The air grew heavier as all eyes turned toward Alaric.

He sat in utter stillness, the embodiment of composed defiance.

Not a twitch. Not a blink.

Not even a flicker of annoyance crossed his face.

He did not flinch at the Phoenix's words, only waited, as if expecting the outburst all along.

"We have all upheld one unbreakable standard"

Came the thunderous voice of the Titan Grand Marshal, shaking the room with its sheer force despite his measured tone.

"Not one of us has ever granted promotion without due merit and military achievement"

His eyes locked onto Alaric with solemn weight.

"If what we've read is true, Grand Marshal Alaric, then I trust you'll have suitable answers, very suitable ones, for the Military High Court"

No one interrupted him.

Each of the seven had read the same file.

Each of them had seen the raw potential hidden behind the white-haired boy's name.

The human child was a genius.

That much was clear.

But in the eyes of the Grand Marshals, genius alone meant nothing.

The military existed to forge strength through trial, to temper potential through fire and discipline.

It created opportunity, not rewards without struggle.

Not titles without scars.

To bypass that… was a provocation.

An exception.

And exceptions had consequences.

Grand Marshal Alaric's gaze swept across the room, meeting each of their eyes with deliberate calmness before he spoke.

"This promotion was personally sanctioned by the Supreme Monarchs of all military bases"

His words struck like a thunderclap, reverberating through the room, their weight settling heavy upon the air.

A Supreme Monarch.

No, multiple Supreme Monarchs. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

The very mention of them caused the room to hold its breath.

One Supreme Monarch possessed the power to make such decisions, to promote individuals without the usual military qualifications.

But a conclave of all nine?

That was an entirely different matter.

A moment of stunned silence followed.

Each Grand Marshal's thoughts seemed to grind to a halt for a split second, as if the very idea had briefly shattered their comprehension.

The magnitude of Alaric's statement was far beyond the realm of ordinary bureaucracy.

"Do you know why?"

The Elf Grand Marshal's voice was laced with curiosity, his tone cutting through the thick tension that filled the room.

Grand Marshal Alaric's gaze held steady as he answered, his words deliberate, each syllable carrying weight.

"Read the name of the white-haired human boy that you speak of"

A brief pause lingered as the Grand Marshals exchanged looks, then reluctantly shifted their focus back to the files before them.

They had been too caught up in the facts to pay attention to something as trivial as names.

These were low-ranking soldiers, after all.

People they wouldn't normally remember.

But when their eyes fell upon the surname of the human boy… everything shifted.

NULL ANTHONY

The room seemed to hold its breath.

A collective squint of disbelief flickered across the faces of the Grand Marshals.

"Is this true?"

The Werefox Grand Marshal's voice broke the silence, soft, but heavy with shock.

The name NULL carried more weight than any of them could have anticipated.

"Yes"

Grand Marshal Alaric's voice remained deliberate, calm, and steady, but there was an undeniable sharpness to his words.

"Null Anthony is the son, and only child, of two Supreme Monarchs: the Elemental Witch of Destruction and the Sword Saint. He is also the only grandchild of a third Supreme Monarch, the Lightning God, and the Saintess of the World"

He paused for a moment, then added with measured clarity.

"Although the grandmother isn't technically a Supreme Monarch, I'm sure you understand the significance"

The air seemed to thicken as the words settled.

The Grand Marshals froze.

Their minds reeled with the implications.

'Such backing'

The weight of it crushed down upon them.

Their thoughts raced as they processed what had just been revealed.

Who didn't know these names?

The Elemental Witch of Destruction, a force of nature, her power unrivaled in the realms of magic.

The Sword Saint, a man capable of cleaving through anything with his sword intent, his blade an extension of his soul.

The Lightning God, a being who could command storms and unravel the heavens themselves.

And the Saintess of the World, a being of wisdom and compassion, her very presence a beacon of hope.

If even a whisper of harm reached their ears regarding their grandson, there would be no corner of existence safe from their wrath.

These beings, these behemoths, would not hesitate to carve open passages to a higher galaxy, bringing down destruction without mercy.

The room was utterly still, the weight of history pressing down on every shoulder.

As the Grand Marshals continued to process the weight of Grand Marshal Alaric's revelation, his voice cut through the silence once more.

"He was promoted because he was the one who won the Starborn Tournament. His promotion was granted in recognition of his service to the planet as a whole"

A ripple of understanding spread through the room.

Now it all made sense.

The Supreme Monarchs, despite their extraordinary power, never promoted their own kin directly.

They adhered to tradition, allowing even their bloodlines to rise through the ranks like anyone else, proving themselves through trials, victories, and merit.

The Grand Marshals had imagined that the three Supreme Monarchs had exerted their influence to secure Anthony's promotion, but it seemed they had been wrong.

The truth was far more complex, and far more earned.