MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

As they vanished, they reappeared before a colossal structure, its regal magnificence undeniable.

The building's alabaster walls gleamed beneath the moon's argent glow, exuding an aura of quiet supremacy.

Intricate gold filigree traced elaborate patterns across towering arched windows, each pane capturing the starlit heavens like fragmented dreams suspended in glass.

At the entrance, obsidian doors loomed, their surfaces engraved with cryptic ancient sigils, silent sentinels that stood both welcoming and forbidding.

Crowning the edifice, a resplendent dome encrusted with countless gemstones shimmered like a celestial diadem, scattering prismatic light in an ethereal dance, a testament to the grandeur and power enshrined within.

Anthony, Lucian, and Aaaninja approached the towering doors before them.

By now, Aaaninja had once again closed his eyes, his expression unreadable.

As they arrived, the guards flanking the entrance inclined their heads in a silent display of deference.

"Welcome to the After Party"

They intoned in unison, their synchronized voices carrying an air of practiced formality.

With a fluid motion, they gestured for the trio to proceed.

Positioned between his companions, Lucian to his right and Aaaninja to his left, Anthony stepped forward, passing through the grand obsidian doors and into the unknown beyond.

All eyes turned to him, drawn by an unspoken force, as if the mere act of his arrival commanded the attention of the entire room.

His presence was an unchallenged decree, a silent proclamation of dominance veiled in the elegance of restraint.

His face, sculpted to perfection, bore the hallmarks of ethereal beauty, high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and lips that rested in an expression of quiet authority.

His white hair, silken and immaculate, cascaded in soft layers, framing his features like a crown of frost, while his blue, gem like eyes gleamed with an enigmatic depth, glacial yet mesmerizing.

They held a sovereignty that needed no validation, an unshakable confidence that seemed to pierce through the very souls of those who dared meet his gaze.

Each step he took resonated with the poise of a sovereign, measured, deliberate, imbued with a grace that spoke of mastery over both self and circumstance.

There was no urgency in his gait, nor any need for ostentation; his mere existence was spectacle enough.

His garments, tailored to perfection, accentuated the majesty he carried with effortless ease.

A deep midnight blue coat, lined with silver embroidery, draped over his broad shoulders, its fabric whispering of wealth beyond measure.

Beneath it, a fitted obsidian tunic traced the sculpted contours of his frame, its high collar lending an air of regality, while silver threaded cuffs gleamed under the soft glow of the chandeliers.

Yet, it was not his attire that truly captivated, it was the aura he exuded, the quiet storm of power contained within a vessel of unparalleled refinement.

Anthony remained unfazed beneath the weight of countless gazes.

Their scrutiny was meaningless to him, an afterthought, irrelevant in the grand scheme of his existence.

His piercing blue eyes swept across the room, analyzing each figure with a detached precision.

Yet, beyond the champions and the attendants serving the banquet, he sensed no other presence of significance.

Even Aaaninja and Lucian, men of formidable stature in their own right, seemed momentarily diminished, their imposing auras eclipsed as Anthony commanded the undivided attention of all.

Still, none of them spoke.

Such trivialities held no importance to them.

Lucian, however, understood.

This was not mere coincidence, this was Emperor Demeanor at work, an innate force that made Anthony the unchallenged focal point of any room he entered.

Finding no delegates among the guests, Anthony moved without hesitation, his steps unbound by purpose or expectation.

He chose a seat at random, settling into it with an effortless grace before signaling a waiter.

"Food and drink"

He ordered, his tone calm yet absolute.

After all, he had sustained himself on nothing but fruit until now.

As the meal was served, Anthony ate with composed refinement, each movement deliberate, his elegance undisturbed.

Yet even as he dined, he felt them, the lingering stares, the veiled disdain, the whispers of killing intent threading through the air.

A lesser man might have been puzzled.

Why would they direct such futile malice toward someone they knew could crush them effortlessly?

But Anthony had neither the time nor the inclination to ponder the workings of feeble minds.

Stupidity was not a puzzle to be solved; it was simply to be ignored.

Aaaninja and Lucian joined him in the meal, their conversation minimal, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

Once they had finished, Anthony rose to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

Lucian asked, arching a brow.

"Wife hunting"

Anthony replied smoothly, lifting a glass of wine as he strode away.

A flicker of amusement crossed Lucian's face, but he said nothing.

'Will I finally find the one destined for me here?'

With a single thought, Anthony's gaze filtered out every man in the room, leaving only the women in his sight.

His scrutiny was precise, methodical, eyes sweeping over their features with an exacting standard.

He assessed everything, eyes, waist, hips, bust, skin tone, posture, hair color, even the rhythm of their breathing.

Charm, voice, presence, every detail mattered.

Though eager to find his match, he would not settle for just anyone.

Only perfection would do.

As Anthony continued his wife hunting escapade, he sensed a presence approaching from behind. Enjoy exclusive adventures from My Virtual Library Empire

Turning smoothly, he met the gaze of the figure now standing before him.

Kaelith Orion.

Champion of the Aetherian.

For a moment, silence reigned.

Their eyes locked, unblinking, unreadable.

Anthony did not speak.

Orion did not speak.

Yet, the air between them thickened, an invisible tension coiling like a drawn bowstring.

The watching champions held their breath, speculation crackling in the air like an unspoken challenge.

Was Kaelith Orion, once defeated, about to make his move?

Orion raised his hand, his movements slow, deliberate.

His palm extended toward Anthony's stomach, then stopped just inches away.

"The name is Kaelith Orion. Champion of the Aetherian race"

Anthony's gaze flickered to the outstretched hand, unbothered.

A beat passed before he moved, clasping Orion's hand in a firm handshake.

"Null Anthony"

He replied, his tone devoid of embellishment.

Orion gave a slight nod before turning on his heel and walking away, offering neither further words nor backward glances.

Unmoved by the brief exchange, Anthony returned his attention to the true purpose of the evening, admiring the beauties before him… albeit from a distance, for now.

'Why settle for one when I can have them all?'

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips as he moved through the crowd.