"The Supreme Monarchs have been asking for your presence for days now," Warlord Raelith began, his tone formal yet straightforward. "From what I was told, youâve been in seclusion. After relaying that information to them, I was instructed to inform you that your presence is required, if, of course, you emerged from seclusion within the week."
He spoke directly, choosing not to linger on unnecessary pleasantries or hesitation.
Anthony and Vega exchanged a brief glance but remained silent after hearing Raelithâs words. Anthony didnât bother asking what the meeting concerned; he already knew the Supreme Monarchs would never reveal such details to Raelith.
"Thank you for the information," Anthony said calmly.
Raelith nodded once in acknowledgment. Without another word, he turned, stepped out of the room, and closed the door behind him. His figure blurred, dissolving into the air as he teleported away, leaving the floating island entirely.
Sensing his departure, Anthony sighed softly, running a hand through his damp hair. "It seems our little bed exercise will have to wait," he said in mild disappointment, his voice laced with a wry undertone. "I have to go see my mother."
Vega chuckled quietly and shook her head. "Although I would love to come with you to greet Mitchelle, Iâll pass for now. This is a matter concerning the Supreme Monarchs, after all," she said as she lowered herself onto a couch, her tone graceful yet teasing.
"Iâll be back soon," Anthony replied with a faint smile. Rising from the bed, he walked over to her, bent slightly, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Try not to miss me too much."
Vega smiled, watching him vanish into thin air a heartbeat later.
The next moment, Anthony appeared before his motherâs estate. The air here carried a subtle fragrance of mana-infused flora that surrounded the building , serene, yet powerful. His senses immediately locked onto Mitchelleâs presence, and without wasting a breath, he teleported directly to where she was.
"And the prodigal son returns," Mitchelle said, her voice carrying both warmth and gentle reprimand as she turned to face him. A soft smile graced her lips.
"Good morning, Mom," Anthony greeted, stepping forward to sit beside her.
"I didnât know I was still your mother," she replied with mock irritation, though amusement sparkled in her eyes. "You vanished into seclusion without a word." Her gaze swept over him briefly, assessing him with the eyes of a mother and a monarch alike. She could tell he had grown far stronger than before, but just how much stronger, she could not discern.
"Iâm sorry for not telling you," Anthony said sincerely, a faintly apologetic smile touching his lips.
Mitchelle sighed but nodded in acceptance, her expression softening. "Letâs go," she said, rising to her feet gracefully. "Iâve already informed the other Supreme Monarchs that youâve come out of seclusion and are on your way."
"That was fast," Anthony remarked with mild surprise, standing up beside her.
Mitchelle gave a knowing smile and waved her hand. Space itself seemed to split apart, a glowing portal forming before them, swirling with cosmic light and faint ripples of elemental energy. Without another word, both mother and son stepped through.
They emerged into a separate plane, a realm that existed beyond mortal comprehension. The vast void stretched infinitely, dotted with luminous stars that seemed stolen from the galaxies themselves. Asteroids floated weightlessly across the expanse, glimmering under the faint radiance of celestial light.
Without hesitation, Anthony teleported toward one of the two empty cosmic thrones suspended in the plane, while Mitchelle occupied the other. Around them, the remaining Supreme Monarchs were already seated, their presence radiating immense authority. Silence fell as the meeting began, thick and heavy like the stillness before a storm.
"Itâs nice to see the Soulpen Sovereign joining us," Anthonyâs voice broke through the quiet, smooth and calm but carrying undeniable weight. "It seems youâve finally decided to appear with your true body."
The Soulpen Sovereign, a refined Werebeast with silver fur and eyes like molten gold, remained silent. His mind, however, raced. He remembered Anthony well, the same young man he had met only a year ago. Yet now, the aura emanating from Anthonyâs body eclipsed his own by a vast margin.
âIs he going to retaliate for what happened back then?â the Soulpen Sovereign wondered nervously, recalling the time he had forcefully tried to peer into Anthonyâs soul. Though it had been through a clone, the act still carried his signature.
Anthony, seeing the manâs discomfort, merely turned his gaze away from the Werebeast with quiet dismissal.
"So," he said calmly, resting his elbow on the armrest of his throne, "whatâs the purpose of this meeting?"
Without hesitation, the First Supreme Monarch spoke, his deep voice echoing through the star-strewn expanse. "Weâve received an invitation from the galaxyâs top races for a summit. While our race and planet are not among the ruling civilizations, your victory in the Starborn Tournament a couple years ago has granted us a seat at their table. We are expected to attend."
Anthony arched a brow thoughtfully, his fingers tapping lightly against the side of his throne. "Was the reason for this summit stated?" he asked after a contemplative pause.
"No," the Third Supreme Monarch replied evenly. "The message contained only the invitation itself. Every major race will be represented, nothing more was disclosed."
Anthony leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing in thought. He knew such a gathering wasnât without purpose. If the galaxyâs dominant powers were summoning all major factions, something significant was stirring behind the veil.
"And what about the quotas for attendance?" he asked, his tone level yet firm.
"Five from the older generation," the First Supreme Monarch replied promptly, "and three from the younger generation."
Anthony fell silent, considering the possibilities. After a few moments, he spoke with calm authority, his voice cutting through the ambient hum of cosmic energy.
"The First, Fifth, Eighth, and Ninth Supreme Monarchs will attend as the older generation. As for the fifth representative, you may decide among yourselves." He paused briefly, his tone steady and commanding. "For the younger generation, Vega, Skye Kingsley, and I will attend."
He let his gaze sweep across the chamber, the weight of his words settling in the air. "Any objections?"
None came. Only silence, the kind born from agreement and respect.
"Since there are none," Anthony continued, his voice smooth yet resolute, "whatâs the next agenda?"
"There are none," the First Supreme Monarch replied quietly, his tone filled with deference.
Anthony nodded. "When do we depart?"
"Next week at the latest," answered the Fourth Supreme Monarch almost immediately.
"Then weâre done here," Anthony stated simply. His form flickered, and before anyone could respond, he vanished, dissolving into thin air like mist in sunlight.
For a long moment, the Supreme Monarchs remained silent, each lost in their thoughts.
Meanwhile, back in the shifting void between realms, Anthonyâs calm voice echoed faintly in his mind, his thoughts laced with intrigue and anticipation.
âAaaninja Chronisynth... Lucian Darkheart...â his mind whispered. âI hope youâve both grown stronger. Things are about to become... interesting.â