MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 984: Backlash

Lucian Darkheart hovered in the emptiness of the Acarnis Galaxy, reveling in his hard-won victory. With eyes shut tight, he soaked in the grand splendor of his success, relishing the quiet that settled after the devastating astral showdown. Three years... those endless, grueling years of waiting had led to this one pivotal instant, and now it was all worth it... every grueling session of training, each daring gamble, every fierce fight, every restless night dedicated to honing his strength and honing his intellect.

Though he kept it unspoken, Lucian couldn't deny his admiration for Aaaninja; despite all the supreme powers Lucian had carefully duplicated over a full century, Aaaninja had held his own through pure skill and genius alone. Relying solely on his time control gift, he had battled Lucian evenly, even against a barrage of reality-bending techniques that ought to have crushed him outright, defying the odds with clever tactics and raw, fearsome intuition.

Truly, Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos was no one to underestimate. His combat smarts and quick thinking were exceptionally vast, pivoting to spirit powers and hidden methods the instant his time control was nullified, adjusting effortlessly like every obstacle was just another piece in a puzzle he'd long figured out.

Such brilliance.

A subtle smile crossed Lucian's face, as he had zero issue acknowledging Aaaninja as a prodigy on par with himself; in fact, he viewed Aaaninja as his greatest adversary, the only force that drove him past laziness and into true excellence. Aura Nova, on the other hand, would need to claim that spot once she reached her flawless form, once her promise and untamed strength evolved into something solid and incontestable.

Then, a new idea struck Lucian: he and Aaaninja had stayed neck-and-neck for nearly the whole fight, their abilities smashing together like stellar powers, and the key to victory had boiled down to the Personification power both unleashed in that final, explosive moment.

Neither Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos nor Lucian Darkheart had realized they held such perilously supreme abilities. When ??? granted the power to him, it came with a strange stipulation, something they'd only recognize upon actual deployment, as if the understanding was locked away until the critical need unlocked it.

In essence, Aaaninja hadn't been aware of the power right up until he activated it, and Lucian shared the same surprise, both revealing a trump card they hadn't planned for or grasped completely until it emerged.

No one could have foreseen their trump cards being so... shattered, phenomenal, and overwhelmingly dominant. Even those terms fell short of capturing the immense scale of what they'd released, as if words were too basic to capture such elevation.

Lucian pondered: his win came only because he alone grasped the fourth wall. But did that bother him? Not in the slightest. It was his own tool, much like Aaaninja drew from the River Of Time and Kingsley from the Universe; edges meant nothing unless exploited, and he'd simply wielded what belonged to him.

Lucian's foot touched down on the moon's surface beside Aaaninja's lifeless form. The fine dust stirred lightly under his gentle landing. He gazed at it quietly, then let out a sigh while shaking his head, puzzled over why Aaaninja hadn't revived yet; after all, he hadn't 'truly' slain Aaaninja, so this wasn't absolute True Death.

Just as Lucian prepared to call out Aaaninja's name, convinced the River Of Time was surely observing and hearing from outside the flow of cause and effect, a sudden strike hit him. It didn't creep in like a soft ripple; instead, it slammed into him with absurd, impossible might and intensity, like a sea folding in on one spot.

Lucian crumpled to his knees right away, the blow robbing him of air. In the following instant, he spewed out a massive volume of blood, as if on the verge of coughing up his heart. Lucian sensed his insides twisting and bursting sequentially while he heaved out gallons of blood onto the ghostly moon ground.

Pain erupted through his whole frame, a savage, piercing torment; he, equipped with Pain Nullification and meant to be impervious to hurt and torment, now endured it at a level beyond anything from his two existences.

'A rebound?' Lucian wondered silently, yet before he could linger on the thought, he retched once more, and this round brought up not just blood but sour, heavy bile. Under normal circumstances, his natural, absurd healing powers should have kicked in immediately, mending tissues and steadying vitals in mere moments, but they stayed dormant. It seemed the rebound had ruthlessly quashed any chance of recovery, every survival process harshly muted.

Seconds later, his skin lost a bit of hue, then faded further; it was draining color and life with each tick, growing ashen steadily. His chiseled abs and toned build, forged in combat and bolstered by endless upgrades, began to shrivel as if mass and essence were ebbing away. Then his hair followed; the once-vibrant black locks developed white threads, and soon, without mercy, they went entirely gray.

Lucian required no explanation for the changes; his life force was fading, and he could sense his vigor plummeting live, escaping like grains from his grasp. He tried to respond at once, knowing full well that someone like him—who'd roamed the stars from age twenty and now spanned over a hundred years—surely had at least one power to counter any backlash imaginable.

Yet before he could trigger his ability, Lucian encountered another barrier; the identical crushing pressure that halted his healing now locked down every power he held. And it went further. His mana rank fell permanently in real time, a permanent downgrade.

Lucian, previously at Ascendant Mana Rank, watched his level plummet to Exarch Mana Rank in mere heartbeats. It sank further to Hyperion Mana Rank shortly after, the energy in his core vanishing into oblivion, as if drained by some unseen, pitiless force.

His vitality and mana rank were both vanishing together, his core essence crumbling unchecked.

All his skills were blocked too, hidden behind an unbreachable barrier, but Lucian refused to yield. His mind raced to the system storage, frantically scanning the myriad items he'd gathered from his vast, dangerous journeys through realms and dimensions, treasures from lost eras and legendary sites, yet nothing in there offered aid for his crisis.

Lucian understood his fate. He was perishing, and no, this wasn't a demise he'd bounce back from via resurrection. No, not even his Reality Anchor power would work now, with every ability totally barred, prevented from even stirring.

'So, I'm dying, eh?' Lucian reflected through bloodied lips as red fluid dripped down his mouth, chin, attire, and form, marking him with the hue of finality. Yet fear evaded Lucian. It was just death. He'd met it once before in his prior life; this end mirrored that one, save for the epic feats he'd racked up in the interim.

'Fingers crossed the author kicked off a sequel; perhaps I'll rebirth into it,' he reflected quietly, a hint of wry amusement emerging amid the unyielding pain battering him from all sides.

In that instant, perfect sharpness filled his mind, not from teetering on death's brink, not from some profound insight born of doom, but purely because he embraced dying without issue, and in that surrender lay a clear, almost tranquil insight.