MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Anthony and Mitchelle moved calmly and gracefully through the kitchen as they prepared a grand feast together. Their movements were fluid and practiced, as though they had done this countless times before, yet this time carried an unmistakable warmth.

From her space ring, Mitchelle brought out various meats, vegetables, fruits, spices, and other ingredients, neatly arranged and perfectly preserved. Anthony couldn't help but glance at his mother strangely, wondering who in their right mind walked around with food items tucked away inside a spatial ring meant for storing weapons, artifacts, and treasures of immense value.

Noticing the curious look on her son's face, Mitchelle smiled faintly, her hands still busy slicing through a piece of meat with refined movement of a chef. "Just because our bodies can run on mana now instead of relying on ordinary nutrients doesn't mean I can't enjoy delicacies every now and then," she said with a soft laugh that carried both elegance and playfulness.

Anthony merely chuckled and nodded in understanding. It was true, he too often indulged in the finer things, though most of his delicacies came from the System Shop, where he could buy rare meals from across unknown worlds.

They continued cooking in companionable silence for a while. The rhythm of their movements created a quiet melody, the sizzling of oil, the gentle chopping of vegetables, and the faint hum of mana as Anthony used it to control the fire beneath the pots. Mitchelle wanted to ask about Vega, to know how far things had progressed between her son and the young woman she had briefly known. But she decided to hold back. There would be time for such questions later, perhaps when everyone was seated and the atmosphere was light. For now, she wanted to enjoy this rare and tranquil moment with her son.

"You seem to be smiling a lot lately. Care to share what's making you so cheerful?" Mitchelle asked, glancing at Anthony, who had been quietly smiling throughout their entire cooking session.

Anthony paused mid-motion, the smile fading briefly before returning with quiet warmth. "It's just that," he began slowly, his tone thoughtful, "no amount of money or power can buy these moments, these feelings, the peace, the calmness, the love."

Mitchelle listened intently, one eyebrow arched slightly in surprise. Although they were one big, happy family, she hadn't expected such heartfelt words from her son, who had always been more reserved with emotions.

Her lips curved into a tender smile as she replied softly, "That is indeed true. Love cannot be bought or achieved by force." She paused for a brief moment, choosing her next words carefully. "I hope you find someone who makes you truly happy. Your grandfather has Irene. I have your father. In turn, you will find yours one day."

Anthony smiled faintly and nodded. He didn't speak further, choosing instead to continue his work, enjoying the quiet rhythm of the moment, a simple cooking session shared between mother and son.

"So, where and when did you learn to cook?" Mitchelle asked curiously without turning to look at him. She could tell from the precision and confidence in his movements that he wasn't a beginner. "I'm fairly certain you didn't learn any of this from me or the maids back at the estate."

"Well…" Anthony hesitated, a small smile playing at his lips. "I picked up a few things here and there," he replied vaguely, not sure how to explain his experiences.

Mitchelle shook her head lightly at his evasive answer, choosing not to press further. Within minutes, the food was nearly ready. Aromas filled the air, rich and inviting. The kitchen glowed with soft warmth, the kind that only came from a home filled with love. Mitchelle waited a few more seconds for the final dish to be done before speaking.

"Set the table," she instructed gently.

Anthony nodded and got to work. With a flick of his fingers, plates, glasses, and cutlery began to levitate from the cabinets, forming a neat procession behind him. He opened a portal leading directly to the grand dining hall, stepping through it as the utensils followed in an orderly fashion. Within moments, everything was perfectly arranged, elegant yet cozy. Mitchelle followed soon after, placing the steaming dishes on the long, polished table.

The moment they were done, another portal tore open in the air, and through it stepped Collins and Irene. Anthony's sky-blue eyes immediately flicked toward Irene the moment he sensed her familiar presence.

"Grandma," he said softly, his voice carrying warmth and affection as he blurred forward, wrapping his arms around her. For a moment, he looked like a small child again.

"It's been a while, Anthony," Irene said kindly, patting his head with gentle affection. Her presence carried the grace of an immortal, soft yet powerful, delicate yet unshakable.

Anthony smiled. "Which military base are you stationed at now? Maybe I could come visit."

Irene chuckled. "Well, I'm not in any military base anymore. I have my own domain. I was never really a soldier, after all," she said with a touch of amusement. "Besides, across the entire Blue Planet, hardly anyone can rival your grandmother's healing abilities. My location is always kept secret to all but the Supreme Monarchs." Her tone softened with warmth. "But your grandfather will bring you around sometime. There's someone I'd like you to meet, someone I believe you already know."

Anthony tilted his head, pretending not to understand, though deep down, he knew exactly whom she was referring to. Evelyn. The young woman Irene had recently taken as her disciple. From her tone and that knowing smile, Anthony could tell that his grandmother was scheming something, likely trying to set him up with Evelyn romantically.

Another portal opened again, and this time, Michael stepped out.

"Well, that smells wonderful," he remarked the moment he appeared. Turning toward his mother, Irene, he nodded respectfully with a smile. They had already met earlier that day, so no formal greetings were necessary.

"Maybe you can do the dishes afterward," Mitchelle teased as everyone began to take their seats around the grand table.

Michael smirked confidently. "Sword Intent can cut through anything," he replied in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. Of course, he knew exactly what Mitchelle meant, she wanted him to help with the dishes manually. But he feigned ignorance. Michael, the son of the Lightning God and one of the wealthiest beings alive, had never done dishes in his life. The idea of him scrubbing plates was simply absurd.

Without further delay, the feast began.

Saying a prayer? Hardly. Which god would dare demand reverence from a family this powerful?

Plates glided gracefully across the table, serving spoons clinked, and laughter filled the air. The sound of cutlery striking against porcelain blended with the soft hum of conversation. For once, there were no thoughts of war, no burdens of authority, no weight of power pressing down upon them. There was only warmth, the kind that came from shared moments and unconditional love.

They sat together like an ordinary family, eating, laughing, teasing one another. For a brief time, they weren't legends, monarchs, or world-defining figures. They were simply a family of mortals, the kind who could die from something as simple as a fever or malaria, and that simplicity was strangely beautiful.

Three generations gathered at one table: Collins and Irene, the first generation; Michael and Mitchelle, the second; and Anthony, the third. As for the fourth generation, no one knew when it would come. But for now, this family sat together in love and harmony, basking in a peace that few beings in existence could ever truly know.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to matter. There were no empires, no realms, no battles, only the sound of laughter, the aroma of home-cooked meals, and the quiet heartbeat of a family at peace.