MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 980: Possum

Lucian Darkheart maintained a serene look upon his features, but in the instant that followed, a broad grin suddenly spread across his mouth. Victory belonged to him... he had secured it for real. Even if every person there held revival abilities or items that allowed them to come back to life somehow, a fatal blow in the duel marked the defeated one right away, no matter the later revival, and that fact filled Lucian with immense joy and an inner sense of triumph that knew no bounds.

Whatever actions Aaaninja took from here, the outcome stood firm at this point—he had been beaten, and moreover, revival remained impossible for him right now since the Law Imposition power lingered in effect, making Aaaninja's comeback utterly pointless for the time being and stripping away any path for recovery.

Of course, barring any unforeseen twist.

Though Lucian had seemingly "perished" earlier when Aaaninja deployed the Temporal Erasure technique to wipe him from their shared timeline, that scenario differed greatly from the current one, as he hadn't truly died but merely vanished from that specific flow of time. The two situations operated under separate rules and principles entirely, so distinct guidelines applied, a difference Lucian grasped with perfect understanding.

Lucian lifted his gaze skyward; three years had passed in grueling wait for this... for their long-awaited rematch, and now it had arrived, not by mere luck or accident, but through his hard-earned success. A wave of deep fulfillment and delight surged within him as he remained still and quiet, as if soaking in the warm sunlight and feeling the soft breeze touch his renewed body.

’Looks like that money-hungry writer is finally showing a bit of fairness,’ Lucian reflected silently, ’or maybe the Earth version of Aaaninja isn't showering super gifts like he used to, and given how cheap and grasping that author is, this rings true.’ A sly inner smile tugged at Lucian's thoughts while he stood in poised quietness.

He held the strong conviction that his defeat three years back stemmed from the meddling of that so-called avaricious author twisting events against him, yet today that story had flipped, and in his view, true fairness had at last prevailed.

His fingers gripped the katana's handle more firmly, and with a soft, measured breath, he slid the blade home in a deliberate, graceful motion as it returned to its sheath with polished poise. Through Event Rewriting, Lucian Darkheart mended his garments and form back to flawless condition, wiping away all traces of grime and soil from his skin and clothes as if they had never been there at all.

His gaze dropped to Aaaninja’s decapitated remains, slumped in a spreading puddle of scarlet. Under normal circumstances, Aaaninja would have sprung back to life immediately, yet no such revival came, and the body's eerie immobility brought both comfort and a strange unease.

’I truly hope the River Of Time doesn't lash out or move to oppose me,’ Lucian pondered with a subtle undercurrent of wariness. When Kingsley fell, the Universe had stirred in reaction, and with Aaaninja now slain, wasn't it logical, even wise, to anticipate the River Of Time stepping in for balance or revenge?

Lucian recognized the strength and unyielding nature of his Law Imposition within its domain, but he wasn't some foolish newcomer who thought such a power could seamlessly challenge something like the River Of Time, an existence that oversaw every multiverse and omniverse, rising above single timelines and minor worldly rules.

[It appears the system will soon say goodbye to the Host]

The system spoke up, convinced that Lucian's end drew near, since Aaaninja's downfall would surely draw some superior force to interfere sooner or later. If not immediately, then in due time, but its analysis pointed to intervention as unavoidable.

Lucian gave a slight shake of his head as he averted his eyes, his dark gaze rising to Klaus while he anticipated the official declaration of the battle's winner, certain that his own name would ring out before the gathered crowd.

In the blink that followed, a faint shimmer appeared, and the sickening rip of flesh rang out sharply, resounding in every listener's ears. Crimson sprayed wildly onto the ground as twin blades ripped into Lucian's mind and chest at once, offering zero chance of enduring such wounds.

Lucian's dark eyes drifted down to the weapon impaling his chest, then flicked to the one buried in his skull, before his awareness jumped again, revealing Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos standing whole and unmarked, free of any injury or flaw.

"Checkmate," Aaaninja declared, echoing the very phrase Lucian had thrown at him just before, his voice steady and final.

At Aaaninja’s statement, Lucian coughed up a torrent of blood and sank to his knees with a crash, his thoughts reeling in stunned disbelief, though he still scrambled to grasp how Aaaninja had endured, convinced as he was of the man's demise.

Stripped of his Time Affinity, Aaaninja ought to have been rendered helpless, but there he was behind Lucian, looking down with those serene, pristine white eyes.

Lucian let out a quiet sigh, recalling how the identical twist had played out three years prior. Back then, he'd unleashed a Soul Art katana strike to shatter Aaaninja’s essence and claim the edge. In that crucial instant long ago, his vigilance had slipped just a fraction, allowing Aaaninja—who had only pretended the Soul Art katana move had landed—to strike back swiftly and snatch victory in the dying seconds.

And today, Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos had pulled off the selfsame ploy with maddening accuracy once more.

’Is this fellow more like a sneaky animal or a divine being, how does he master faking death so ridiculously well,’ Lucian wondered inwardly as he toppled forward with a dull impact, his awareness fading into the void while his blood spread in widening streams below.

With his brain and heart both stabbed through and ruined beyond repair, death should have claimed him at once, yet his extraordinary resilience and unyielding spirit held him on the edge for the tiniest instant... stretching one second into what felt like eternity in his mind.

Yet that fleeting moment changed nothing vital; mana eluded him, no skills or powers could ignite, he lay utterly defeated, and the truth stung with defeat and shame.

Lucian's final thoughts turned once more to the author, ’My assumption that Aaaninja’s Earth double had stopped with the gifts was wrong after all. That writer stays as miserly and brazen as always,’ he reflected with sharp resentment as he inwardly damned the author with his last gasp and clear idea before blackness engulfed him completely, ending his life, and turning his cherished triumph into a mere ephemeral dream.