MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 933: How Arrogant

Lucian’s form flickered as he transitioned into a state of absolute defense. His shoulders, waist, hands, and feet operated in flawless harmony, behaving like a singular, synchronized machine. Each adjustment was calculated; every shift was exact. He observed Anthony’s shift in style and adapted his own movements without missing a beat. As Anthony unleashed his assault, Lucian felt the mounting pressure and tension—the sheer weight of every swing bearing down like a physical force—yet he embraced the challenge.

His promise not to hold back was no empty boast. He was currently pouring every ounce of his understanding regarding the katana into the fray. Every refined principle and every lesson etched into his soul through a lifetime of combat was on full display. Despite this, Anthony brushed off the onslaught as if it were a mere breeze. Lucian remained undeterred, fully aware of the monstrous power Anthony possessed. He had always known the truth, but he refused to roll over and accept defeat just because Anthony was the protagonist of the multiverse.

Within his sockets, Lucian’s dark eyes darted rapidly, tracking every incoming strike with unnatural precision. He blocked, deflected, and parried with relentless focus. However, he refused to do one thing: dodge. To evade was to betray the core defensive tenets of the katana. For Lucian, abandoning the principles of the blade was equivalent to abandoning his own identity, a compromise he would never make.

’Is he testing my limits?’ Lucian wondered while beginning to see through Anthony’s strategy. After all, no one understood Anthony’s nature better than he did.

’Such arrogance,’ he thought, a wide grin spreading across his features.

He couldn't deny the thrill; he craved this intensity. Growth was impossible without pressure, and one could never advance without facing true adversity. Yet, he wasn't content to simply defend. He was determined to prove why he was Lucian Darkheart. He stood there as a side character who refused to be forgotten in the shadows. He was there to defy the protagonist—no, he was there to defy the author himself.

With that burning resolve, his very aura underwent a transformation.

His presence sharpened, resembling a sword being drawn from its scabbard. His speed accelerated beyond the limits of logic, transcending normal perception. With a single stride, Lucian vanished, leaving reality itself struggling to keep pace. An instant later, he reappeared at Anthony’s side, his katana whistling through the air in a lethal arc aimed at Anthony’s flesh.

Warning bells rang in Anthony’s instincts. Guided by his current katana style, his body contorted with supernatural grace. His own blade blurred upward in a streak of crimson light, and the two weapons clashed with a violent, echoing clang that shook the battlefield.

Lucian didn't stop there; he transitioned into a second strike immediately, linking his movements without a moment's pause. Anthony parried the blow with ease, his reflexes bordering on the prophetic. Lucian remained unfazed, charging forward like a midnight gale and chaining a third attack to the previous two in a seamless sequence.

Anthony’s eyes blinked.

His sky-blue gaze glowed as he read Lucian’s patterns as clearly as if they were written in bold print. Three strikes were executed in less than a nanosecond. For almost anyone else, defending would have been an impossible task, but Anthony was different. His grip tightened on his hilt, muscles bulging as he flicked his wrist in a single, circular motion. With that lone gesture, he neutralized all three attacks at once.

Lucian remained indifferent to the failure.

He had anticipated this outcome. To think he could wound Anthony with a mere handful of strikes was a delusion; one might as well expect a pig to sprout wings and fly. Without pausing, Lucian adjusted his footing and lunged toward Anthony’s knees with murderous intent. The air groaned and warped under the force of the thrust, appearing as though it might shatter.

Anthony leaped into the air to evade the strike, parrying even as he moved. His body flipped elegantly over Lucian, but Lucian pounced on the opening created by Anthony being airborne. His hand whipped upward, his katana turning into a crimson blur as he unleashed a tempest of slashes—delivering over a thousand individual strikes in a fraction of a millisecond.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Suspended upside down, Anthony saw the attacks closing in from every angle. He didn't panic; instead, he smiled. His style shifted mid-flight, the primal instincts from before vanishing as he entered a new state of being. His wrists moved with blinding speed, creating a continuous ring of steel against steel. With breathtaking grace and insulting ease, he parried every single blow before his feet even touched the dirt.

The moment Anthony landed, Lucian was already waiting.

It was as if Lucian had foreseen exactly where Anthony would touch down. However, Anthony had anticipated that very prediction. He struck first, launching an attack before Lucian could act, despite Lucian reaching the spot first. Lucian reacted instantly, parrying the blade aimed at his skull. He didn't stop at a simple block; he used his katana to bind Anthony’s weapon, attempting to wrench it from his hand.

To Anthony, such a maneuver was amateurish. His fingers and wrist twitched, and his katana seemed to dance between them in slow motion. Grinning, Anthony let go of the hilt entirely, snatching the sword with his left hand mid-air. In the same motion, he launched a barrage of lightning-fast strikes. Lucian didn't flinch. He moved like a phantom, his body weaving through the onslaught as he parried every strike simultaneously.

The ground beneath them disintegrated. Sword gashes scarred the earth as if the galaxy itself were carving it up. Great chasms opened beneath their feet, the terrain unable to endure the ferocity of their duel. Even the atmosphere seemed to tremble, as if terrified of being erased by their blades.

The pair appeared before a mountain, then vanished. They flickered atop a tree, disappeared, and emerged on a far-off hill. A moment later, they stood upon the surface of a great lake. They moved through battlefields like lightning bolts through a storm, never losing their momentum and never breaking their lethal rhythm.

Anthony’s blade lashed out in a wide horizontal arc toward Lucian’s throat. Lucian knocked it aside in an instant, the redirected force of the blow obliterating a chain of mountains in the distance. Peaks crumbled into dust under the sheer residual power.

And so, they fought on.

This was the essence of the katana—a collision of madness, uncontrollable obsession, and the relentless clashing of steel and will.

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