MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 511: Baby Pictures

As the moments slipped by and the day quietly waned, Mitchelle finally turned to Anthony, her voice gentle and loving.

"You’ll have to leave soon. There’s still much I must attend to."

Anthony gave a quiet nod. He understood, he could not hope to spend the entire day by her side. She was a Supreme Monarch, and the weight of her responsibilities was vast.

Drawing him into a warm embrace, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Bring your friends by sometime," she said with a small smile.

Anthony chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes.

"They’d probably drop dead from a heart attack if they ever met you or Dad. It’s not every day you stand in the presence of a Supreme Monarch."

Mitchelle laughed softly, the sound light and melodic.

"Then hurry up and grow stronger," she said with a teasing smile. "Become as famous as your mother."

"I’m already famous enough," Anthony replied with a smirk, his tone brimming with quiet confidence.

"Speaking of Supreme Monarchs... where’s Dad? Didn’t you tell him I’m here?"

Anthony asked, his gaze drifting thoughtfully. In the warmth of time spent with his mother, he had momentarily forgotten about Michael.

Mitchelle let out a soft hum of realization.

"Ah, you’re right. I forgot to mention it. But even if I had told him, he wouldn’t be able to come right away, he’s occupied at the moment."

Anthony nodded slowly, his expression calm, though his eyes held a quiet anticipation. He was looking forward to seeing his father.

"Also," Mitchelle added, her tone shifting to something more formal, "you’ll be meeting the Supremes soon. Prepare yourself."

Anthony paused, momentarily taken aback. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"For what exactly?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

"They’ll want to hear your side of the events,"

Mitchelle replied, her voice carrying a trace of resignation, as though even she was bound by forces beyond her will.

"But... there isn’t really a ’side.’ The Primarch of Reality from Military Base Alpha-6 already has all the details," Anthony said, his tone edged with confusion.

"I’m aware," Mitchelle nodded. "But protocol demands more. I’m about to convene with the Warlords and the Grand Marshals. After that, I’ll hear your account in full, before we stand before them together."

’There’s no escaping this, is there?’ Anthony thought to himself.

If it were up to him, he’d rather not stand before a circle of ancient men who had been alive for gods know how long. In his mind, they might as well be older than the stars themselves.

Still, he understood, there was no avoiding it. He had become the spark that lit the fuse: the one who uncovered the looming threat, snatched the Severed Crown of Echoes before it could be weaponized, and safeguarded not just the soldiers but the entire Logistics Division from certain doom.

"When will the Warlord and the Grand Marshals from Military Base Alpha-6 arrive?"

Anthony asked, his tone steady.

"They’re already on their way," Mitchelle replied, her voice calm, the air around her subtly shifting as she stared easing back slowly into the composed bearing of a Supreme Monarch.

"Then I suppose I should get going," Anthony said, beginning to rise from his seat.

"There’s no need to rush," Mitchelle said with a soft smile. "They’re walking here. It will take them a while."

Anthony couldn’t help but smile to himself.

’She probably told them to walk just to buy us more time,’ he thought.

"So, I heard about your sparring match. Katanamanship, was it?"

Mitchelle said with a knowing smile.

Anthony wasn’t the least bit surprised. Of course his mother had overheard his conversation with Raelith, even from miles away.

"Yeah," he replied, a subtle flicker dancing in his eyes. "It’s rare to find someone of his caliber who wields a katana."

Mitchelle chuckled softly.

"Your father would be jealous, you know. You’ve never once offered to spar with him since you picked up the blade. And now here you are, initiating a match with someone else."

Anthony smiled.

"Dad doesn’t use a katana. Besides, if I sparred with him once, he’d probably pester me every single day for another round."

Anthony had always matched the experience of his opponents. And someone like Michael, known across realms as the Sword Saint, carried with him a depth of swordsmanship and battle knowledge carved from countless lifetimes of combat.

If Anthony were to face him in a spar and somehow won through pure swordsmanship alone, he knew what would follow. His father would return, not once or twice, but relentlessly.

Perhaps forever.

Mitchelle smiled knowingly at Anthony’s words. She understood all too well what her husband was like.

Michael had dueled Klaus more than a thousand times in contests of pure swordsmanship, and lost every single one.

But that never deterred him. He kept returning, day after day, driven by passion and pride. Eventually, it had reached such a point that even Klaus, seasoned and sharp, had to flee just to get a moment of peace.

He was simply a battle maniac in every sense of the word.

"Do you think you’ll lose to Raelith?"

Mitchelle asked, her voice calm but thoughtful.

She had immense confidence in her son’s abilities, but this was different. This would be a duel of the blade alone, stripped of elemental power or other abilities.

She had watched Raelith train every single day, despite his status as a Warlord. His devotion to the katana was relentless, almost sacred, much like Michael’s obsession with combat itself.

In her eyes, Raelith’s experience with the blade towered above anything Anthony had revealed thus far. His technique had been forged over millennia of disciplined repetition and honed instinct.

"Nah, I’d win."

Anthony replied without hesitation, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with soft battle intent. The katana at his waist seemed to respond, emitting the faintest hum, as if it, too, understood his words.

Mitchelle raised a brow, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"Confident," she remarked.

"Naturally," Anthony said calmly. "How could I possibly lose, when your blood runs through my veins?"

"Hoo... such charming words," Mitchelle teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Is my baby boy finally learning how to flirt? When should I expect a girlfriend, and maybe a grandchild or two?"

She was deliberately cornering him, of course. Anthony had always sidestepped any conversation involving romance or granchildren.

But this time, he didn’t flinch.

"You might actually meet her soon," he replied calmly.

The words hit Mitchelle like a thunderclap. She froze, her expression stunned.

"Yo... You have a girlfriend?" she asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Of course," Anthony said with a casual shrug, his voice rich with bravado. "If I don’t, then no one else deserves to have one either."

Anthony boasted as though it wasn’t a reward from ???

"How come you never mentioned her all this time?"

Mitchelle asked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity and excitement. The prospect of hearing about her son’s romantic life clearly delighted her.

Anthony hesitated.

How was he supposed to explain something that wasn’t quite real... yet? It existed, but not in the traditional sense. A strange blend of possibility and distance. He had her, but not fully. Not yet.

’Is this what having an online girlfriend or a long-distance relationship feels like?’ he wondered, inwardly bemused.

"You’ll meet her soon," he said at last, his tone smooth. "My mom and dad are Supremes. Naturally, she wants to be at her best before meeting people like you two. I don’t want to rush her into anything."

It was the perfect excuse, and one he delivered with the cool composure of someone well-versed in deflection.

"Just give me a few days’ notice before you bring her home."

Mitchelle said, her voice light, but her mind was already elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to Anthony, she had plunged deep into planning mode.

Wedding themes, honeymoon destinations, guest lists... all spiraled through her thoughts at once. She was already mentally picking out the most elegant room in the Null Estate for her future daughter-in-law’s stay, one with the perfect view, of course.

Then, they’d have their little girls’ time. Perhaps some tea, a few stories... and if all went well, she’d casually slip in one or two of Anthony’s most embarrassing childhood moments.

Oh, and the baby pictures. She’d definitely show her daughter-in-law Anthony’s baby pictures.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺