MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 240 The Starborn Tournament

The representatives of the Blue Planet, Michael, Mitchelle, Collins, Baldor, Iserios, Gorath, and Aurelius, swiftly arrived at a separate building, their figures streaking across the skies like meteors.

But unlike the cottage like waiting room that had greeted the champions, this structure was far more befitting their esteemed status.

It was not merely a building, but a grand castle, its imposing architecture reflecting the weight of their power and legacy.

The guide gestured for them to enter without him, and they obeyed, stepping into the vast, hollow expanse within.

After a brief journey through the castle's halls, they reached their destination, a room that, like the one Anthony had encountered, appeared deceptively small from the outside.

However, upon entry, its true scale was revealed, an expansive space that stretched into the horizon.

At the center of the room, there was no table, no physical fixtures of any kind.

Instead, beings, each a force unto themselves, floated in the vastness, sitting mid air in a perfect circle, their forms suspended as if by the very will of the space itself.

Unlike Anthony's encounter, where the atmosphere had been muted and still, the air in this room crackled with palpable energy.

Each individual's presence was felt, their auras pressing in on the space like an invisible tide, powerful and intense.

The stillness was not one of tranquility, but a quiet reverence for the power contained within.

The room was suffused with an overwhelming density of pure energy, the very air thick with the power of beings who stood at the apex of the galaxy, or, in some cases, their own world

The moment Mitchelle and the others stepped into the room, they were immediately met with the crushing weight of countless auras pressing down upon them.

It was a palpable force, a reminder of the immeasurable power contained within this gathering.

But they were prepared.

Unfazed, they allowed their own auras to surge forth, unrestrained and resolute.

Lightning arced through the room as Collins's presence expanded, his body rising effortlessly into the air.

His gaze, unwavering and unyielding, met the space before him, and the electric charge of his aura crackled ominously.

Sword intent descended upon the assembly like a sharpened blade, the very air around them vibrating with its potential to tear through anyone who dared to challenge Michael.

Mitchelle, however, would not be overshadowed.

Her mastery over mana was absolute. It trembled fiercely under her command, elemental particles in the air convulsing as though the very fabric of reality itself were ready to bend and merge with her power.

Every spark of magic hummed with anticipation, threatening to explode forth at her will.

The remaining representatives, such as Baldor, were equally resolute.

Their auras flared to life with an intensity that made the very realm shudder, the very foundations of the space seeming on the verge of being torn asunder beneath the collective force of their presence.

It was as if the universe itself could no longer contain their power, a symphony of dominance that echoed through the room, leaving no doubt that they were the pinnacle of existence.

With a unified surge of energy, the delegates of the Blue Planet shot upwards, their auras filling the space as they leveled themselves with the other representatives.

The room, once teeming with tension, now crackled with the sheer weight of their presence.

He said.

"We will proceed with the mana contract"

The being raised his hand, and a glowing, ethereal mana contract materialized in the space before him.

It shimmered with a power that drew the eyes of all in the room.

The contract's terms were simple yet absolute: from this moment onward, no delegate could offer aid to their champion in any form.

Any assistance could only be provided after the competition had concluded.

The punishment for violation was as clear as it was severe, DEATH.

While some in the room may have hesitated, perhaps thinking of the myriad treasures or abilities that could bypass death, such as Serenelle's famed talent to resurrect herself nine times a day, none of those could save them from the wrath of this contract.

True Death, as it was called, was the fate sealed by this contract, a death that no artifact, no power, not even Serenelle's talent, could reverse.

The stakes were clear: anyone who attempted to cheat or defy the contract would face an irreversible end.

The only way to bypass this punishment was through the use of a treasure, ability, or talent that transcended the mana contract itself.

Such a relic or power would be of unimaginable value, and its existence would be known only to the most powerful individuals in the galaxy.

However, the mere presence of such a treasure in this room would be catastrophic.

If someone were to wield a power that could defy the binding clauses of the mana contract, it would set off a chain of events that no one could contain.

The implications were clear: the moment such a treasure was revealed, a bloodbath would erupt in the room, with every representative vying for control over it.

A war would ensue, not just among those present, but across the entire galaxy

A grim atmosphere settled over the delegates.

The thought of such finality brought frowns and hesitant glances.

However, they all understood the weight of the situation.

The contract had been introduced to prevent previous attempts to bypass the competition's integrity.

In the early days of the tournament, there had been efforts to secretly aid champions, but those who sought to bend the rules quickly learned the true meaning of the consequences.

Each representative signed the contract without protest, though not without a moment of hesitation.

They understood the price of defiance.

"Then"

The being declared after the last signature was made.

"Let us begin the game"

The finality in his voice echoed through the room, signaling the commencement of the tournament.