MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 960: Lesson

Anthony and Kingsley didn't leap to their feet or charge down to the arena the instant their names lit up on the display; rather, they stayed put in their seats, motionless like carved stone figures, as if each was holding back until the other took the initiative. This lack of movement stemmed not from doubt or terror, but from a silent agreement that hung between them without words.

Yet, unbeknownst to most of those watching, the true cause for their inaction was straightforward to the point of absurdity, almost comically direct—the outcome of this duel had been settled well ahead of time, long before either even thought about rising.

Vega kept quiet, her eyes fixed and inscrutable as she watched the pair from her spot nearby. She knew precisely what was unfolding and held far more details than the crowd, who only murmured guesses. She had witnessed Kingsley's quick defeat at Anthony's hands, taken down in just a couple of blows, a loss so rapid it bordered on illusion, fading away like a dream cut short.

Even though he had undoubtedly improved since that day, refining his physique and perfecting his skills with unyielding focus, both she, Anthony, and Kingsley recognized that nothing had truly changed, for the divide between them wasn't the sort that simple hard work could bridge overnight.

Thus, they all remained hushed and still.

"Why aren’t the both of you moving?" Klaus's voice rang out from the side, soft but distinct, his dark eyes turning their way as he addressed them with a composed manner and a steady voice laced with subtle command.

Anthony offered a brief, subtle smile before responding, his gaze drifting to Klaus as he said, "that will be left up to my opponent. If he moves, I will," he replied in an easygoing manner that radiated total nonchalance and unshakable assurance.

Klaus fell quiet, unsure of how to respond, the statement leaving him stunned and his mind in a whirl of confusion.

Aaaninja, Aura Nova, Lucian, Veronica, Altheria, and the other onlookers raised a brow in bewilderment, their faces mirroring the same puzzled look as they struggled to grasp the odd impasse playing out in front of them.

"Are you now afraid to spar with others because you’ve lost twice?" Aura Nova's voice drifted from the side as her eyes turned to Kingsley; they held a serene and straightforward quality, free of scorn or ridicule, posing what seemed like an honest inquiry, though she suspected Kingsley's resolve wasn't so brittle or quick to crumble.

Kingsley let out a soft sigh, sensing the stares boring into him like an actual burden on his shoulders, yet he held his tongue and stayed in his chair a bit longer, his stance relaxed, his breaths even, as if the attention didn't faze him at all.

"It’s not that," Lucian's voice flowed from the side, smooth and measured like ever, "it’s just that unlike you and Aaaninja, he understands the futility in challenging Anthony, that is all there is to it," he explained as if he grasped the man's mindset better than anyone else there, his voice carrying an unsettling certainty.

Kingsley's golden gaze flicked to Lucian briefly as he pondered how the guy had pierced his thoughts so easily, like stripping away hidden layers without asking. With that, he shook his head, stood up, and dove downward without a second thought, his form slicing through the clouds akin to a plummeting star, crashing onto the arena with a deafening crash that cracked the earth into fissures and sent tremors surging in fierce bursts.

Though he was certain of his impending defeat, Kingsley kept his features neutral and unperturbed, showing no trace of bitterness or remorse. The defeat didn't matter much to him; it was only a practice bout, nothing deeper, but he aimed to extract every bit of insight from it, no matter how tiny, to fuel his growth.

Anthony, spotting Kingsley's landing below, just grinned slyly before fading away as if he'd never been there, his essence scattering like fog in the breeze. Moments later, he materialized on the field, positioned across from Kingsley with flawless ease.

A heavy quiet settled over them as both held still, the atmosphere thickening, like the entire realm paused in anticipation for a cue, and at last, that cue arrived.

"Begin," Klaus's command sliced through the sky from overhead. Yet, unlike prior fights where fighters dashed ahead and clashed with immediate fury and might, neither Anthony nor Kingsley budged a single step.

"You know, normally, whenever I battle people, I give them a chance to show me what they have, to show me their strength, their will, their training, their talent, their technique, their abilities," Anthony started saying while linking his hands behind him, his locks swaying lightly with the gusts, his bearing casual as if he were wandering a park instead of facing a rival.

As Anthony talked, Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos' eyes squeezed into thin slits at the corners, recalling a nearly identical monologue from three years back, the echo sending a shiver racing along his back.

Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos could never erase that memory; he'd fought Anthony and been beaten, then reached True Enlightenment via pure determination and progress, only to face him once more in the Starborn Tournament's finale, convinced he'd narrowed the divide. Anthony had uttered those very same lines then, delivered in a serene, almost kind manner that chilled more than any menace, and they were the final sounds he caught before blacking out.

'Is he gearing up to wrap it up with one strike, just like he did to me?' Aaaninja mused inwardly, his heart clenching, 'and it looks like Anthony and Kingsley have crossed paths in combat before, ending with Kingsley's downfall,' his mind piecing together a clear and inescapable deduction.

Anthony, unaware of Aaaninja's swirling reflections, went on, "based on that, I should have ended this battle with a single attack..." he halted for a second, allowing the quiet to linger, before adding, "but I won’t, based on the ground that during our battle, I didn’t allow you to shine and display all that you could," a faint, somewhat regretful smile touching his mouth as he finished.

"Because of that, I will ask you this, do you want this spar to be a lesson where I will actually teach you something, or do you want to battle me and try to win against me?" Anthony inquired, falling silent afterward as the atmosphere plunged into an oppressive hush.

Kingsley held his peace, old recollections bubbling up as he thought back to his previous clash with Anthony. He'd insisted on witnessing the gulf between them firsthand, demanded evidence of their power disparity, and he recalled vividly how it concluded. Taking him on now aiming for victory wasn't bravery; it was folly masquerading as ego.

Moreover, he'd already intended to gain some insight, whatever it might be, from this exchange, and here Anthony was, extending that opportunity as amends for an issue Kingsley still didn't quite comprehend.

But Kingsley avoided foolish queries like Why? Why me? Why bother helping? and other such useless chatter. Instead, the instant Anthony made the offer, he'd embraced it in his thoughts without any hesitation.

Drawing in a deep, measured breath, he responded, "I want this spar to be a lesson where you teach me something," he declared with a steady and resolute look, his golden eyes firm. Though he was the cosmos's cherished one, he realized the cosmos wouldn't shatter reality's rules just to indulge his desires.

It might handle simple feats like reviving him post-death, something nearly everyone present could manage through their methods, or lend a hand now and then with minor issues like covering costs he couldn't meet, but no grander wonders beyond that.