MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 935: Decapitation

Chapter 935: Decapitation

Blood exploded outward from Lucian’s injury, spraying violently through the air as flesh was torn apart. He didn’t stand there like a fool, frozen by shock or disbelief. His body blurred backward in a violent distortion of motion as he instantly put distance between himself and Anthony, boots skidding across the ground, his blood trailing in long crimson streaks across the floor as he moved.

He paused for only a brief mont once he was clear, his eyes lowering to his own body. He stared at the wound, at the torn flesh and exposed muscle, registering the damage without panic. The very next instant, his injuries snapped shut as his natural regeneration kicked in. Flesh knitted together rapidly, bone realigned, muscle rewove itself as if reality itself were being overwritten. Within a heartbeat, there was no sign that the wound had ever existed.

’I couldn’t follow him,’ Lucian thought to himself, his expression darkening as his mind raced to keep up with what had just happened. He tried to understand how Anthony’s speed and strength had suddenly increased to such an absurd degree, so abruptly that even his perception had failed him. He wasn’t surprised by his injuries, no, that much he had already accepted long ago. He knew better than anyone that battling Anthony without getting injured was an impossibility. That had never been the question.

The real question was how fast the gap was widening.

Yes, Lucian had increased his own speed and strength, pushing himself further than usual, deliberately drawing out more of his latent power. He had expected Anthony to match it. He had even expected to be pressured. What he had not expected was for Anthony to eclipse it so completely, and to do so without a single word, without hesitation, without any visible effort.

The very next mont, Lucian’s instincts scread.

Not whispered. Not warned. They scread.

’He’s coming,’ Lucian thought.

The thought barely finished forming before agony detonated across his entire body, mind, nerves, and brain alike, as Anthony’s blade flashed once more. This ti, there was no glancing blow, no partial strike. His entire left arm was severed cleanly, torn away in a rciless arc that left no room for doubt.

Lucian blurred away from his position again, the distortion of space following his movent as blood spluttered violently from the stump of his arm. The pain was imnse, but he didn’t care. Pain was irrelevant. In less than a second, a new arm regenerated, bone forming first, followed by muscle, then skin, the limb fully restored before his feet had even settled.

Yet the mont he appeared at what should have been a safe distance, his breath caught.

Anthony was already there. Standing calmly.

Waiting as though he had read Lucian’s speed, trajectory, and positioning with absolute clarity, as though every movent Lucian could possibly make already existed within Anthony’s expectations.

Lucian’s instincts scread again. For the third ti.

Whether his reflexes could still keep up was now uncertain.

’How did he even arrive here?’ Lucian thought, disbelief creeping into his mind for the first ti.

The answer ca in steel.

Anthony’s katana carved through Lucian’s stomach and intestines in a brutal, precise arc. Blood exploded outward from torn flesh, painting the air and ground alike. Yet this ti, Lucian didn’t retreat. He didn’t blur away. He didn’t create distance between himself and Anthony.

No. He stayed exactly where he was.

The mont his injuries snapped shut once more, Lucian pushed himself further. The world around him slowed, dragged down by the sheer force of his perception. He forced his speed, strength, and awareness to the absolute limit of his physical might, muscles screaming under the strain as ti itself seed to stretch.

In that suspended instant, Lucian cleaved toward Anthony’s neck, pouring everything into the strike. The intention was clear.

Decapitation.

Anthony’s katana blurred upward effortlessly, intercepting Lucian’s blade and shifting it aside as though parrying a child’s swing rather than a lethal attack. The dismissal was casual, almost insulting. And in that sa fluid motion, Anthony’s katana flashed again, mirroring Lucian’s own lashing strike with terrifying precision.

Lucian could only watch as the attack closed in. He couldn’t understand how the tempo of the battle had shifted so violently in Anthony’s favor. He couldn’t understand where Anthony was drawing this overwhelming speed and strength from. But one truth beca undeniable in that mont.

He had reached his ceiling. There was no room left to grow within his current limits. No margin to dodge. No space to parry.

Unless...

With that singular thought, Sword Intent erupted into existence. It burst forth from Lucian’s core, flooding the battlefield as black energy wrapped around his body like a living cloak. The pressure intensified instantly. His speed surged to an absurd degree, his strength rising alongside it, his perception stretching even further as the world slowed almost to stillness. Space itself seed to recoil in response.

Then, in a single blip, he vanished, as though he had never existed there at all.

Anthony’s slash roared forward unchecked. The missed attack rampaged across the battlefield, reducing the terrain to utter devastation. The ground split apart violently, entire sections of earth erased as wind detonated outward. Shockwaves followed in rapid succession, tearing through everything in their path, leaving behind nothing but shattered ruin and lingering destruction.

Anthony paused. Only for a mont. His eyes then shifted to the side.

There, amidst the devastation, stood Lucian, his body wrapped in dense black Sword Intent, his presence heavy and unmistakable. His black eyes locked onto Anthony with unwavering focus. For the first ti since the battle had begun, a different, fully realized form of energy had stepped onto the battlefield.

Anthony said nothing. Instead, he smirked. He took a single step. That step erased the distance entirely.

The mont he appeared before Lucian, his foot tore forward like a bullet train. Before Lucian could even blink, Anthony’s forefoot slamd into his chest. The impact launched him backward violently, his body flung through the air like a broken kite, helpless against the force.

Lucian was injured, but his Sword Intent mitigated the damage at the last possible instant. Twisting his body mid-flight, he forced control back into his limbs. When he finally landed, his feet carved deep trenches into the earth below, the ground screaming as he ca to a halt.

His head snapped backward from the impact. The mont it snapped forward again, all he saw was a katana already closing in on his neck, slicing horizontally through the air. Lucian didn’t hesitate. He ducked instantly, the blade tearing through the space where his head had been. The terrain behind him detonated under the force of a single missed strike.

Anthony didn’t allow him even a mont to breathe.

The tempo of the battle was his now, and he was enjoying it.

Unless Lucian adapted completely, he would remain on the losing foot. Anthony’s missed katana recalibrated mid-motion, the horizontal slash seamlessly transforming into a vertical one. The blade scread downward like a spear hurled by the heavens themselves.

This ti, Lucian reacted. He poured even more Sword Intent into his body and sword, forcing every last drop of power outward. His blade flashed upward in a violent eruption of black energy. The two swords collided, tearing into one another like clashing gods. The battlefield vanished beneath a towering cloud of smoke as Sword Intent roared outward, swallowing everything in its path.

Lucian had finally adapted. Yet even now, Anthony had not called upon his own Sword Intent.

He t Lucian’s empowered blade with nothing but steel and flesh, standing as though such power was beneath notice. Lucian reacted instantly, launching an endless series of counterattacks, his speed surpassing anything he had ever achieved before, every strike layered with lethal precision.

Anthony answered them with a knowing smirk. Then he vanished, leaving only an afterimage behind, and the chilling certainty that this battle was far from over.