MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 935: Decapitation

Blood erupted from Lucian’s wound, spraying into the air as his flesh was violently shredded. He did not remain stationary like a stunned fool, paralyzed by the shock of the strike. Instead, his form became a blur of motion as he retreated, putting immediate distance between himself and Anthony. His boots scraped across the stone, leaving long, crimson trails of blood marking his path.

Once out of immediate danger, he paused for a fleeting second, his gaze dropping to inspect his own frame. He observed the jagged wound, the torn skin, and the raw muscle, cataloging the severity of the damage without a hint of panic. In the very next heartbeat, the injury snapped shut as his innate regeneration took hold. Flesh wove itself back together, bones snapped into alignment, and muscle fibers reconnected as if the laws of reality were being rewritten in his favor. Within moments, every trace of the injury had vanished.

'I couldn't even track his movements,' Lucian mused, his expression darkening as his mind struggled to process the exchange. He sought to understand how Anthony’s velocity and raw power had spiked so drastically and so suddenly that his own perception had failed. He wasn't shocked by the fact that he was hurt; he had accepted that reality long ago. He understood better than anyone that facing Anthony without shedding blood was a fantasy. That was never the issue.

The true concern was how rapidly the chasm between them was expanding.

Indeed, Lucian had bolstered his own speed and strength, pushing past his usual limits to draw out more of his latent Cultivation. He had anticipated that Anthony would match his pace. He had even expected to be backed into a corner. What he had not foreseen was Anthony surpassing him so effortlessly, doing so without uttering a word or showing the slightest sign of exertion.

Suddenly, Lucian’s instincts began to scream.

It wasn't a whisper or a mild warning. It was a primal roar of alarm.

'He’s coming,' Lucian thought.

The thought had barely manifested when agonizing pain detonated through his entire being—mind, nerves, and brain alike—as Anthony’s blade flashed once more. This time, it wasn't a mere glancing blow. His entire left arm was severed cleanly, lopped off in a merciless arc that left no room for error.

Lucian blurred away from his spot again, the very space around him distorting as blood sprayed violently from the stump of his shoulder. The agony was profound, yet he dismissed it. Pain was a secondary concern. In less than a second, a new limb began to sprout; bone solidified first, followed by the weaving of muscle and the closing of skin. The arm was fully restored before his feet had even touched the ground.

However, the moment he arrived at what should have been a safe distance, his breath hitched.

Anthony was already there, standing with an eerie calm.

He was waiting as if he had predicted Lucian’s speed, trajectory, and final position with absolute clarity—as if every possible maneuver Lucian could make was already mapped out within his expectations.

For the third time, Lucian’s instincts screamed in terror.

He began to doubt if his reflexes could even keep up anymore.

'How did he get here so fast?' Lucian wondered, as a seed of disbelief finally took root in his mind.

The answer arrived in the form of cold steel.

Anthony’s katana ripped through Lucian’s midsection, carving through his stomach and intestines in a brutal, surgical arc. Blood sprayed outward, staining both the air and the earth. Yet, this time, Lucian did not flee. He did not blur away or seek safety in distance.

Instead, he held his ground.

As his internal organs snapped back together once more, Lucian pushed himself even harder. The world slowed down, dragged into a crawl by the sheer intensity of his perception. He forced his speed, strength, and awareness to the absolute peak of his physical capacity, his muscles groaning under the pressure as time itself seemed to warp.

In that frozen moment, Lucian swung his blade toward Anthony’s neck, putting every ounce of his soul into the strike. His intent was absolute.

Decapitation.

Effortlessly, Anthony’s katana blurred upward, intercepting the attack and brushing it aside as if he were parrying the clumsy swing of a child rather than a killing blow. It was a casual, almost insulting dismissal. In the same fluid motion, Anthony’s blade flashed again, echoing Lucian’s own strike with terrifying accuracy.

Lucian could only watch the incoming steel. He couldn't comprehend how the momentum of the fight had shifted so violently toward Anthony. He couldn't fathom the source of this overwhelming speed and power. But one reality became undeniable in that instant.

He had hit a wall. Within his current limits, there was no more room for growth, no margin to evade, and no space to defend.

Unless...

With that single thought, Sword Intent erupted. It surged from Lucian’s core, flooding the area as black energy coiled around his body like a sentient shroud. The atmospheric pressure spiked instantly. His speed reached absurd levels and his strength rose in tandem, his perception expanding until the world stood nearly still. Space itself seemed to recoil from the presence.

Then, with a sudden blip, he vanished as if he had never been there.

Anthony’s slash whistled through empty air. The missed strike rampaged across the terrain, reducing the battlefield to a wasteland. The earth split wide, entire sections of the ground were erased, and the wind detonated outward. Shockwaves followed, shattering everything in their path and leaving nothing but ruin.

Anthony paused for a brief moment. Then, his eyes shifted to the side.

There, amidst the wreckage, stood Lucian. His body was enveloped in dense, black Sword Intent, his presence heavy and suffocating. His black eyes were locked onto Anthony with murderous focus. For the first time in the duel, a fully realized, different form of energy had been unleashed.

Anthony remained silent. Instead, a smirk played on his lips. He took a single step, and that step deleted the distance between them.

The moment he appeared before Lucian, his foot lashed out like a speeding train. Before Lucian could react, Anthony’s foot slammed into his chest. The force launched him backward, his body hurtling through the air like a broken kite, completely helpless against the momentum.

Lucian was battered, but his Sword Intent absorbed the worst of the impact at the final second. Twisting mid-air, he regained control of his limbs. When he finally hit the ground, his feet dug deep trenches into the earth, the soil screaming as he ground to a halt.

His head snapped back from the force. As it snapped forward again, he saw a katana already closing in on his throat, slicing horizontally through the air. Without hesitation, Lucian ducked. The blade whistled through the space where his head had just been, and the landscape behind him exploded from the sheer force of the missed swing.

Anthony gave him no room to breathe.

The rhythm of the fight belonged to him now, and he was clearly relishing it.

Unless Lucian could fully adapt, he would remain trapped on the defensive. Anthony’s missed katana recalibrated mid-swing, the horizontal arc shifting seamlessly into a vertical descent. The blade roared downward like a spear cast by the gods.

This time, Lucian met the challenge. He channeled even more Sword Intent into his frame and his weapon, forcing every bit of his power to the surface. His blade flashed upward in a violent burst of black energy. The two swords clashed, grinding against each other like warring deities. The battlefield was swallowed by a massive cloud of smoke as Sword Intent roared, consuming everything.

Lucian had finally adapted. Yet, even now, Anthony had not yet summoned his own Sword Intent.

He faced Lucian’s empowered strikes with nothing but raw steel and physical might, acting as though such power was beneath his concern. Lucian reacted instantly, unleashing a relentless barrage of counterattacks, his speed reaching heights he had never before touched, each strike layered with lethal intent.

Anthony countered with a knowing smirk. Then, he vanished, leaving only a fading afterimage and the chilling realization that the true battle had only just begun.