"It seems my son lost," Riven stated from the side as he stared at his son, Lucian, who was already interacting with Aura Nova and the rest of his friends, laughing and talking as though he hadn't just gone through an earth-shattering battle moments ago.

"Surely you didn't think he could win, right?" Mitchelle asked, her question rhetorical. She had a wide smile on her face as she stared at Anthony. Yes, she knew her son was strong and had basically never lost a battle, but it didn't mean she would suddenly stop cheering for him like a proud mother watching her child from the sidelines. No matter how strong Anthony became, to her, he was still her son first and a monster second.

Vespera stayed silent for a moment before replying with a gentle smile, "I'm just happy he is still as cheerful and happy as before," a motherly warmth spreading through her chest and veins as she spoke. No mother would ever want to suddenly see their child consumed by blind determination to surpass something or someone, losing themselves in obsession and pressure.

While it was good to train hard and surpass your rivals, an overstep of it was dangerous to both mind and body. Too much ambition could easily twist into something ugly, something destructive, and she had seen far too many geniuses collapse under their own weight.

Michael sat in silence. The normal him would have burst into loud laughter and praise for his baby monster, bragging shamelessly about Anthony's absurdity to everyone present, yet here he was, unusually quiet, his expression thoughtful and serious. Mitchelle's eyes turned toward him, but he seemed too deep in thought to notice her gaze. As for what was bothering him, the answer was simple, Lucian and Anthony's swordsmanship.

He had to admit it, they had both completely captured his attention now.

Michael had always known of Anthony's talent for the sword. From the time Anthony first held a blade, there had been something unnatural about him, something that defied explanation. He just didn't know it was to this extent, didn't expect it to have reached such a terrifying height.

'We are more or less equal in terms of swordsmanship,' he thought to himself, though not equal to Anthony, but to Lucian.

But Michael knew the truth deep down.

He had previously been slightly behind Lucian, something he hated to admit even to himself, but he was now on equal footing after his battle with the Sword Origin where he gained a breakthrough. That enlightenment had pushed him forward, polishing his blade to a frightening degree.

Still…

His thoughts slowly shifted back to Anthony.

He couldn't understand just how deep Anthony's understanding of the sword truly went. It felt bottomless, like staring into an ocean with no visible end.

'On par with Klaus?' he wondered internally, but at the same time, the thought felt ridiculous to him. Yes, Anthony was strong, monstrously so, but when it came to Klaus, that was another level of power and existence entirely. Klaus was a being who stood even outside the peak of the Galaxy.

But only if Michael knew how wrong his thoughts were.

Yes, in terms of sheer power, Klaus was stronger than Anthony.

But in terms of pure swordsmanship, pure comprehension of the blade itself, Klaus was no different from a dying candle flame while Anthony burned like a star.

'I should find a way to spar with my baby monster,' Michael thought to himself, a faint grin almost forming on his lips. This had always been one of his goals since forever, but Anthony somehow escaped every single time, slipping away like smoke whenever the topic came up. 'Well, after my spar with Klaus, I will make sure Anthony and I spar this time,' he concluded firmly. He would make sure Anthony couldn't run away anymore.

As Michael remained lost in his thoughts, Collins sat in silence as usual. His silence was his language, his calm posture speaking more than words ever could. No one ever understood what was going on in his head, aside from Irene, of course. His eyes simply observed everything quietly, like an old lightning storm waiting beyond the horizon.

Michael was eventually brought out of his thoughts by Zachary's voice. "It seems our children are even more powerful than we give them credit for," Zachary stated with a calm expression. But although his face showed little change, he was extremely shocked inside.

Yes, they had already understood during the battle against the Angels that this younger generation was absurdly talented, but what he had just witnessed was far beyond absurd.

It was monstrous.

'Even my own son possesses this much power?' he thought to himself, his mind drifting toward Aaaninja, and he couldn't help but feel a faint surge of anticipation. After all, his son was the most talented Celestial in existence, and naturally the most talented of everyone present here.

"It seems so… who would have thought we could give birth to such monsters," Riven replied, his eyes still fixed on Lucian. A faint smile rested on his face as he continued, "It seems the day they would be needing our protection has finally come to an end," his tone somewhat melancholic, mixed with pride and a strange sense of loss.

"We might be the ones who need protection now. The saying 'the young shall surpass the old' has always been true," Nyxss replied from the side with a quiet chuckle.

"How the tables have turned," Vespera added with a soft smile.

They all understood the reality of the situation. With how things were escalating, if the Twelve Winged Angels invaded, could they truly stop them with only their own power? They had already seen the difference between a Ten Winged Angel and an Eleven Winged Angel. That gap alone had been terrifying. Surely the difference between a Twelve Winged Angel and an Eleven Winged Angel would be even greater, perhaps insurmountable.

But even if they stopped a Twelve Winged Angel, what about an unknown Thirteen Winged Angel? And ultimately their so-called God?

Surely their personal power couldn't hold back such beings and an endless flock of enemies forever.

In the future, they might only be able to stand at the rear while the younger generation stood at the vanguard.

"It seems it's time to retire," Rain's voice came from the side. He had stood as the strongest man on his planet for millennia. Perhaps it was finally time for Aura Nova to take that title from him and step forward.

"Shall we continue our spar?" Klaus' voice echoed calmly from the side. He couldn't reminisce like them. For one, his daughter wasn't participating in their spar, and more importantly, he was simply too strong for her to surpass him anytime soon.

Everyone nodded, their eyes fixed on the screen once more. They already knew Aaaninja was battling next. All that remained a mystery was who his opponent would be.

With that, the screen flared again and the numbers began jumping rapidly. Within seconds, they stopped, settling on two glowing digits.

Two versus Five.

Without a word, Aaaninja rose. He was number two. He dropped from his seat, his body tearing downward through the clouds like a falling comet. His opponent was Kingsley, who had kept his eyes closed the entire time. His golden eyes snapped open sharply, and without a word, he too rose and dropped toward the ground.

Aaaninja and Kingsley landed with deft, controlled touches, standing a few meters away from each other. Neither of them was much of a talker, but words weren't necessary. Now they would speak with their attacks.

Aaaninja's eyes remained open, shining faintly as though he could already see the end of this spar before it had even begun.

"Begin," Klaus' voice thundered from above as he immediately shifted himself and the others into his pocket dimensions, away from the destruction these two were about to cause.

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