MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

The chamber resonated with an air of quiet yet unyielding authority.

The vast space, lined with ancient stone and shimmering runes, was a place where the leaders of the most powerful races in existence gathered, a place where decisions of immeasurable consequence were made.

At present, the weight of the decision that hung in the air was unparalleled, for it concerned not only the survival of their respective race but the very balance of the world itself.

This was no ordinary meeting.

The competition, a legendary event held once in every centamillennial, was rapidly approaching.

This contest of immeasurable stakes would determine not just the fate of the champions, but also the future of the realms.

The selection of the world's representative had long been a subject of intrigue, but it had now been made unequivocally clear: Anthony, son of Michael, the Sword Saint, was to be the one who would stand for all races, human and otherwise.

He would represent the world itself.

Yet, as monumental as the competition was, the leaders had gathered for another pressing matter.

The question now was not who would represent the world, but who among the most powerful individuals present would stand as protectors of the world's champion.

The leaders of the races could not allow Anthony to go without their oversight, for such a delicate and dangerous undertaking required more than just the strength of one individual.

The vast table around which they gathered was made of the rarest of materials, its surface shimmering as though it were forged from the very stars.

Each leader sat with a poised yet determined demeanor, knowing that they were discussing matters that would echo across the ages.

Their discussion would be crucial in shaping the outcome of the upcoming trials, and perhaps the fate of all existence.

Gorath Storm, the patriarch of the Titan race, was the first to break the silence.

His towering form, clad in clothing that seemed to pulse with the raw power of the earth itself, exuded an aura of palpable strength.

When he spoke, his voice reverberated through the chamber like the distant rumble of an impending storm.

"We cannot afford to underestimate the gravity of this competition"

He said, his gaze sweeping across the room.

"Anthony is the one chosen to represent the entirety of the world, and yet, he cannot stand alone. The forces arrayed against him will be nothing short of lethal. We must ensure his safety at all costs. I shall go to offer my protection"

Aeltharion Moonwhisper, the Elf King, whose centuries of wisdom were etched into every line of his flawless countenance, nodded thoughtfully.

"I agree, but not all of us can afford to depart our realms. It would be imprudent for the leaders to scatter our forces so thinly. Some must remain behind, especially if there are unknown movements that could jeopardize our lands. As much as I wish to offer my aid, my presence here is required"

A long silence followed his words, the weight of the decision clear on the faces of the gathered leaders.

They knew that the competition was not only a test of strength, it was also a test of strategy.

Only a few could afford to leave, and they would have to make their choices with careful consideration.

Iserios Von Deathwrath, the ancient Dragon King, leaned forward, his massive form folding in on itself with an elegance that defied his size.

His eyes glinted with an unsettling mixture of wisdom and ancient power.

"The demons are not the only threat we must face. There are those who would see this competition as an opportunity to advance their own agendas. I, too, will go. The dragons must be represented, and their might will serve as a powerful safeguard"

Baldor Ironhammer, the stout and unyielding Dwarf King, stroked his beard with a deliberate slowness, his mind clearly turning over the complexities of the situation.

"The safety of our world's champion cannot be entrusted to a handful of warriors alone. I, too, shall attend. The dwarves stand strong with our allies, but we must ensure that Anthony is not left to face his trials without the full weight of our power"

Aurelius Ignis, the Phoenix King, whose form was an ever shifting play of fire and light, spoke with a voice that carried the resonance of eternity.

"The competition will test more than just physical strength. It will test resolve, endurance, and the very fabric of existence. I will stand alongside Anthony, for the flames of the phoenix must ensure that the fire of humanity, and of all the world, does not flicker and die"

Kaelen Wildhart, the leader of the Demi-Human race, offered a quiet but firm nod.

"I will remain. My people are too scattered, too few, to afford to send me away. But I will lend my strength from afar, ensuring that our domain remains secure and that our allies are not left vulnerable"

The murmurs around the table continued as the leaders debated, each weighing the ramifications of the decisions being made.

At last, it was Michael, the Sword Saint himself, who spoke, his voice steady and resolute.

"I will go"

He declared, his gaze unwavering.

"Anthony is my son. He represents more than just the future of humanity, he represents the future of all of us. I will stand by his side, no matter the cost. And my wife, Mitchelle, and my father, Collins, will accompany me. Our family's strength is unmatched, and we will ensure that Anthony faces no harm"

The room fell silent once again as the leaders processed Michael's words.

His decision was not only a declaration of his loyalty to his son but also a testament to the sheer might of the Sword Saint himself.

Anthony was no ordinary champion, and Michael was no ordinary father.

The weight of his presence would be felt across the competition, and no one doubted that his participation would tip the scales in favor of victory.

With that, the leaders began to make their final assessments.

Not everyone could afford to attend the competition.

Some, like Aeltharion, Elara and Kaelen, would remain behind to protect their world.

Others, like Iserios and Baldor, would go, ensuring that their races were represented.

Gorath Storm's deep voice rumbled once more, breaking the silence.

"We will face whatever comes. But those of us who remain must be prepared for the unexpected. The demons, if they choose to make a move, will find no mercy. Our world stands strong, and those who will protect it will be ready"

The discussion shifted, and the leaders turned their focus to Anthony himself.

They knew that the time for preparation was drawing short.

Only a week remained until the date of departure, and each of them had their own plans for the final days leading up to the event.

Michael's eyes glinted with a quiet, confident strength.

"As for Anthony's training"

He began, his voice cutting through the murmurs of discussion,

"It is well. The boy has exceeded even my expectations. He has ascended beyond anything we could have imagined. When you see him, you will understand. He is not just a warrior, he is something more. The future of this world is in his hands"

The others exchanged looks, their expressions reflecting a mixture of curiosity and unspoken admiration.

They had all heard of Anthony's prodigious talent, but hearing it from Michael, the Sword Saint himself, was another matter entirely.

"But his rank?"

Aeltharion asked, his voice laced with intrigue.

"What is his level now? What can we expect from him?"

Michael's gaze softened slightly as he met the Elf King's eyes, though his tone remained firm.

"You will know soon enough. I will not speak further of it. When the time comes, you will see for yourselves"

Naturally, Michael's words were little more than expressions of optimism and conjecture, as they pertained to his son, Anthony.

In truth, he had not personally trained his son, nor had he laid eyes on him for the entirety of the past year.

How, then, could he be certain of Anthony's precise rank or the extent of his growth?

Michael, however, spoke with unwavering confidence, not out of any firsthand knowledge, but because he truly believed his son would rise to meet the expectations he had so casually set.

It was not a matter of certainty, but rather of absolute trust in Anthony's innate potential and overwhelming talent.

To admit that he had neither trained nor seen his son for such an extended period was unthinkable to Michael.

Nor could he, in good conscience, acknowledge that he had not been involved in his son's rigorous development.

Thus, he let his words stand, driven by the unshakable conviction that Anthony would undoubtedly live up to them.

With that, the discussion shifted toward final preparations.

There were still many details to iron out, but the leaders knew that the true test was yet to come.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Anthony would stand as the representative of the world, and his success, or failure, would shape the future of all.

As the meeting came to a close, the leaders rose from their seats, each one preparing for the challenges ahead.

Some would remain behind, guarding their world with vigilance.

Others would travel to the competition, standing as protectors of the world's champion.

Michael, however, was already focused on the task at hand.

His thoughts were consumed by one thing: his son.

In one week, Anthony would face the greatest test of his life.

And Michael, along with Mitchelle and Collins, would be there, standing with him, ensuring that no harm would befall him.

The future of the world was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Michael's unwavering faith in his son would guide them all.

Together, they would face the trials ahead, their strength unbroken and their resolve unyielding.