MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

A week had passed since Anthony was 'rescued' by his parents and grandparents, yet the world still trembled under the weight of the events that had unfolded.

Whispers of the catastrophe spread like wildfire, leaving Domains reeling in disbelief.

The news had shaken societies to their core.

What they heard defied comprehension, and what they saw was even more harrowing.

Entire academies mourned the loss of potential, the golden generation, the pride of their future, decimated by a relentless foe.

Nearly all the first-year students, once beacons of hope, had been obliterated.

Promising lives, filled with unfulfilled dreams and untapped potential, had been snuffed out as easily as candles in a storm.

It was not just a loss of lives; it was the loss of brilliance, the dimming of an era that was meant to shine brighter than any before.

Three attacks in a single year.

Three strikes that broke the spirit of the unprepared and tore apart the illusion of safety.

The enemy's ruthlessness had left a scar on the fabric of their world, a reminder that even the brightest gold can crumble under the weight of chaos.

With this devastating revelation, a once-unshakable belief crumbled, the Academy wasn't so formidable after all.

What was once revered as a bastion of safety and progress now stood accused of negligence and hubris.

The tragedy left a wound that festered in the hearts of the people.

Parents, hearts broken and eyes brimming with tears, stormed the Academy's gates demanding answers.

Their grief echoed through the hallowed halls, where silence and avoidance served as the only response.

For them, the Academy had failed not just as an institution but as a sanctuary.

The promises of protection had proven hollow.

The common people's news outlets were consumed with grim statistics.

Headlines painted a haunting picture of the death toll, names of the deceased rolling endlessly in solemn remembrance.

The weight of loss bore heavily on the world as funeral pyres burned and graves were dug.

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The Academy faced an unrelenting tide of backlash.

Letters of fury, accusations of incompetence, and even whispers of rebellion filled the air.

Its once-sterling reputation now hung by a thread, tarnished by the blood of its students.

Yet, amidst the ruins of hope, a peculiar truth emerged.

Those who survived, scarred but standing, were unlike any before them.

Their resilience had been forged in fire, their strength born of tragedy.

They were diamonds refined in the crucible of death and despair, rising above the ashes of their fallen peers.

Though the loss was insurmountable, these few survivors carried a potential that even the fiercest storms could not extinguish.

From Anthony's loyal subordinates to Tiara, Bryan, the Storm brothers, and even the peculiar necromancer, all had survived the harrowing ordeal, and not just survived, but thrived.

Their trials had forged them into warriors beyond their previous limits, each stepping into newfound realms of power.

Anthony's subordinates, steadfast and unwavering, ascended to another level within the Master rank, their aura now carrying an edge of maturity and dominance.

Meanwhile, Tiara, Bryan, and the Storm brothers shattered the barriers of their potential, rising into the exalted SS rank.

Their very presence seemed heavier, their abilities sharper, as though their newfound strength demanded recognition.

The four of them dedicated the week that followed to adapting to their new ranks, honing their abilities and exploring the depths of their enhanced power.

Their training left scars upon the earth, the ground trembling beneath their relentless determination.

It was clear, they were no longer the same people who had faced death a week prior.

Yet, for every glimmer of good news, shadows of bad tidings loomed.

Among the survivors, some students who had faltered before the insurmountable walls of their limits chose to leave the Academy altogether, unable to bear the weight of their shortcomings.

Others, though still bound by the barriers of their potential, stayed behind, resolved to push through and claim their ascension.

Rumors began to swirl within the Academy domain, spreading like ripples into the wider world.

Whispers of Anthony's strength ignited imaginations, giving rise to tales as varied as the tongues that spoke them.

Some claimed he had stood against the strongest demon in existence, others spoke of a paragon of power, while some wove tales of his clash with a Grandmaster.

Every version seemed more outlandish than the last.

Yet amidst the cacophony of speculation, one detail remained constant across every retelling:

Anthony had won.

Having already accomplished a feat from the Academy's fabled "Impossible List," Anthony's prowess was beyond question.

To most, the idea of him battling a mere Master ranker was almost laughable, his strength far eclipsed such a challenge.

Instead, the whispers centered on something far more audacious:

'What rank could possibly rival his strength now?'

At first, the rumors were dismissed outright, the thought of someone so young and unseasoned standing against figures of legend, those at the pinnacle of power, seemed absurd, no matter who heard it.

Yet, curiosity soon overcame disbelief.

The seeds of intrigue sprouted, and the world leaned in closer.

Academics, adventurers, nobles, and mercenaries alike delved into their networks, wielding their information-gathering skills with fervor.

Mana crystals exchanged hands in secret alleys, coded messages flitted across borders, and even spies were dispatched to uncover the truth.

For Anthony, this frenzy was a storm of scrutiny.

His Perfect One skill, a defensive ability to protect his secrets, activated so frequently he lost count.

Waves of prying eyes crashed against the unyielding barrier of his self-crafted mystery.

Despite the relentless investigations, Anthony left them grasping at shadows.

He permitted only the revelation that he had achieved the Grandmaster realm, though the exact level remained veiled in ambiguity.

This alone would have been a cause for celebration, but another detail emerged from the sea of rumors, one that sent shockwaves across the world.

It was revealed that Anthony had fought and defeated a King ranker.

No schemes, no allies, just pure raw strength and unyielding will.

This revelation struck like a thunderclap, silencing even the most skeptical voices.

To fight a King ranker, let alone win, was a feat bordering on the impossible.

The world reeled in stunned awe, grappling with the implications.

Who was Anthony, truly?

What kind of power did he wield?

And, most chillingly, how far could he go?

They couldn't believe it, no, they dared not believe it.

The idea was too monumental, too earth-shattering.

Yet the confirmation echoed across the world: Anthony was at the Grandmaster rank.

The weight of this truth rippled through every corner of society, shaking the resolve of even the most steadfast minds.

For many, skepticism lingered.

Unlike the last time, when a widely circulated video had immortalized Anthony's battle, there was no such evidence now.

This time, it was whispers and unverified claims.

Doubt gnawed at the edges of belief, a tenuous balance between awe and denial.

But there was one who had seen it all, Spectre.

From the first clash to the final blow, he had witnessed Anthony face the King ranker in a desperate struggle to save him.

Spectre, his voice steady yet laden with the weight of memory, recounted the story to Anthony's loyal subordinates and the other trio: the Storm brothers and Bryan.

For Anthony's subordinates, the tale was no revelation.

They listened without surprise, their unwavering faith in Anthony untouched.

To them, there had never been room for doubt, not even for a moment.

Anthony's power, resolve, and sheer will had always been absolute.

But for the trio, it was an entirely different matter.

As Spectre's words painted the vivid picture of Anthony's impossible feat, their perception of the world began to crack.

They had always considered themselves strong, their rise to the SS rank a mark of exceptional talent.

Yet now, in the shadow of Anthony's achievement, their pride wavered.

Their worldview, once solid and immovable, shattered like fragile glass.

The enormity of what Anthony had accomplished was incomprehensible, leaving them grappling with their own insignificance.

How could someone they had stood beside ascend to heights they could barely fathom?

It wasn't just awe they felt, it was a quiet, searing realization of how far they still had to go.

Tiara, upon hearing the confirmed news from the Vice president, could only accept the harsh truth.

The world she thought she understood was shifting, and Anthony stood at the center of its upheaval.

Reality was unrelenting, and she could no longer deny it, Anthony had ascended to unimaginable heights.

As the news spread, so did the inevitable response from the world's darker corners.

Assassinations and bounties began piling up on Anthony's head.

Many doubted the veracity of the rumors, but none were willing to take chances.

Whether the stories were truth or fabrication, one thing was certain: they couldn't afford to let such power grow unchecked.

The rewards offered for Anthony's life were astronomical, enough to tempt even the most cautious killers.

Yet, not a single one made a move.

The reason was simple: Anthony had not left the Null estate since his 'rescue'.

The estate, a fortress of power and prestige, was a place no assassin dared to tread lightly.

It was common knowledge among even the boldest mercenaries and bounty hunters that to enjoy a reward, one had to stay alive to claim it.

No one was foolish enough to gamble their lives by stepping into the Null estate.

It wasn't just Anthony that kept them at bay, it was the overwhelming presence of his family.

Were Anthony alone, some might have risked the mission, relying on luck or cunning.

But with the entire Null family gathered, the game changed entirely.

Michael, the Sword Saint, whose blade was rumored to cut through space itself;

Mitchelle, the Elemental Queen, whose mastery over elements could level mountains; and Collins, a living tempest, his lightning aura enough to turn even the bravest assassins to ash.

The mere thought of facing such legendary figures sent shivers down the spines of even the most seasoned killers.

This was no simple assassination, it was a suicide mission.

The bounties, no matter how extravagant, weren't worth the price of stepping into a den of lions.

For now, Anthony remained untouchable, shielded not just by his power, but by the unyielding fortress of his bloodline.