MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

High above the battlefield, the Grand Marshal moved with a force and swiftness that eclipsed everything transpiring below.

Each strike carried the power to annihilate millions in an instant.

The clouds split apart beneath the weight of their blows, while rifts in space tore open and healed just as quickly.

Only the heavens were worthy witnesses to a battle of such magnitude.

Below them, Colonels and Generals clashed, each one locked in a desperate struggle for survival.

A mere fraction of a second was the difference between life, death, or grievous injury.

Mercy had no place on this battlefield, no soul was spared.

Even Azrakar, known for his talkative nature, held his tongue.

His thoughts were consumed by the fight before him.

There was nothing left to discuss, the opponent had refused to return the Severed Crown of Echoes.

With silent killing intent, his broadsword danced and deflected, flowing through the chaos without a moment's hesitation.

Within a hidden realm untouched by many, a lone figure sat in tranquil stillness, poised in the lotus position with serene grace.

Her eyes remained closed, lost in deep meditation as her presence harmonized with the very essence of the land.

All around her, flora thrived and fauna of every kind moved contentedly, grazing, frolicking, and breathing in the calm.

The air was thick with Spiritual Energy and mana, both so dense and vibrant they shimmered like a veil of light.

Every corner of this secluded sanctuary radiated purity and peace, as though untouched by the chaos of the outside world.

The woman's silver-grey hair cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall.

Her posture exuded perfection, shoulders poised, skin flawless in every sense.

The elongated, pointed ears marked her unmistakably as an elf.

She was known as the Supreme Monarch of Military Base Alpha-6.

Sylmira Velthariel.

Yet, that was merely the name the world was permitted to know.

Her true name remained a mystery, buried in silence.

But there was another name, whispered in dread, etched into the minds of those beneath her, and spoken with caution even among her peers.

Her title: The Chakram of End.

Then, with deliberate stillness, one of her eyelids lifted, revealing a calm and piercing gaze of deep brown.

A faint smile curved her lips as she whispered a single word.

"Come"

Though her voice was barely audible, the command resounded with undeniable authority.

In less than a heartbeat, three shadows materialized before her, dropping to their knees in perfect unison, their heads bowed low.

They were the Warlords, beings who stood above even the Grand Marshals in power and prestige.

None dared to utter a word.

They remained motionless, kneeling and reverent, awaiting the will of their Supreme Monarch.

"They are here. Prepare to move"

The Chakram of End spoke at last, her voice soft yet authoritative, like a blade sliding into place.

Her words struck the hearts of the Warlords like thunder wrapped in ice.

She had summoned them, and that could only mean one thing: the Demon Monarch and his direct subordinates were on the move.

They had hoped, even believed, that he would remain dormant.

After all, entities of such magnitude did not stir unless the intent was cataclysmic.

When demons of that caliber moved, it was never for conquest.

It was for annihilation.

No matter the death and destruction this war had already wrought, there was still hope for restoration, so long as the Warlords and Supreme Monarchs weren't involved.

But the arrival of the Demon Monarch and his closest lieutenants changed everything.

Their presence brought with it a terrifying possibility: that the entire planet might be soaked in blood and razed to ashes.

Even if the chance of total annihilation was but a single percent, the mere existence of that possibility was enough to cast a shadow over all hope.

And all of it, for the sake of a single Crown.

"As the Supreme Monarch wishes"

The trio intoned in perfect unison, their voices practiced and calm.

With a subtle nod, she dismissed them, and they vanished like shadows swallowed by the night.

Her eyes flickered, calmly observing the battle unfolding below.

Not once did her expression falter at the sight of fallen soldiers.

No trace of nausea surfaced as rivers of blood pooled deep enough to fill an ocean.

Nothing stirred her, no grief, no remorse.

She bore the name End for a reason: she had extinguished countless worlds, leaving no life untouched by her final judgment.

Her gaze fixed intently on Anthony as he faced the Hyperion, dispatching him with astonishing ease.

Without hesitation, he unleashed a devastating lightning spell that rained destruction upon nearly every demon in sight.

A faint, approving smile curved her lips.

'Should I give birth?'

The thought flickered through her mind as she watched Anthony reap heads like one would harvest mere vegetables, blood staining the earth in his relentless path.

'I'm certain my own child would be just as gifted'

Her thoughts lingered on Anthony's brilliance.

'But… I have no man in my life at the moment. And the stupid Supreme Monarchs are far too arrogant'

A soft sigh escaped her lips as her thoughts entwined with a rare moment of vulnerability.

She had longed to be a mother, yet lacked a partner to fulfill that desire.

Often, she was tempted to abandon her mantle temporarily, conceal her identity, live as a simple elf for a season or perhaps a year, before returning to her duties once she was with child.

She cared little for coupling with the strongest elf alive or any grand title.

To her, it mattered not whether the elf was a mortal or a king; her bloodline alone was enough.

'Perhaps, if I were to bear a daughter, she might fall in love with him'

The Chakram of End mused quietly, her palm resting gently upon her stomach.

Her thoughts drifted into tender imaginings, her belly growing round with new life.

A soft, wistful smile touched her lips as she surrendered to the warmth of her motherly dreams.

Were anyone privy to her thoughts, they would be utterly astonished.

Sylmira Velthariel.

The Chakram of End.

A being who had extinguished more lives and shattered more worlds than the years she had lived, was quietly contemplating motherhood, and the simple joys of raising a child.

If the truth of her musings were ever known, men from countless races, realms, and planets would undoubtedly line up at her doorstep.