MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 931: All Shall Hail The Katana

As they clashed, the pressure intensified and the temperature skyrocketed, sending showers of sparks flying through the air. The atmosphere grew heavy—too thick for ordinary lungs to process and too dense for anyone to breathe—yet this meant nothing to them. Neither Anthony nor Lucian were concerned. Their physical forms had been tempered and refined to such a degree that they could survive for days without oxygen. Heat and pressure were irrelevant now. Only the present moment existed. Only this insanity. Only this cataclysm. Only the duel and the collision between them gave any meaning to their lives; only the existence of the rival mattered.

The world dissolved into a blur, colors fading away as reality was stripped down to nothing but the fight itself. Their battle was a rapid tempest, where every parry and counter-strike roared in defiance of the opponent's prowess. Blades hissed as they cut through the air, each strike leaving a lingering whisper of death and a vow of total annihilation. They moved with perfect synchronization, their swords drawn together like magnets by the raw, pitiless force of war.

Steel slammed into steel in a savage dance of sparks, with every glancing hit adding to the crackling energy saturating the field. There was a brutal grace to their duel, each crossing of blades appearing like brushstrokes painted upon an invisible canvas of ruin. Fighting like phantoms, their movements were ghostly but lethal, their blades flashing as if they were tearing through the very fabric of existence. Every impact rang out like a funeral bell, signaling more than just a fight—it was a reckoning between two indomitable spirits.

They battled as though time had frozen, every heartbeat drawn out and every strike suspended in eternity. Their swords carved glowing trails of light through the howling air, with every swing narrating a tale of mastery, willpower, and unchecked rage. The tension between them was thick enough to touch, their blades acting like tongues of fire that devoured hesitation, doubt, and mercy. Their movements flowed as if dictated by destiny, each clash echoing rivalries that predated history.

Despite the surrounding chaos, they never faltered. Every time the pressure of the battlefield seemed to hit its limit, they shattered it completely. They recognized no boundaries, no restraints, and no possibility of stopping. There was only the forward drive, the momentum, and the purity of movement born of instinct and sharpened by a thousand wars.

In the following instant, the rocky ground beneath them shook violently from the intensity of their disastrous collision. Although the land tried to mend and heal itself in real-time, it could not keep up with the devastation they caused. Their madness far exceeded the mechanisms that had sustained the battlefield until now. Then, in a flash of pure, unchecked destruction, the entire rocky plane broke apart.

Explosions ripped through the fragile air as massive stone pillars crumbled into nothing, erased by the sheer force channeled through their blades. Zones split, mountains turned to dust, and the core of the plane screamed as it was shredded. Two monsters in human skin had reduced the entire battlefield to nonexistence.

A massive earthquake tore through the terrain, extending across endless kilometers. Even distant zones, previously thought safe, were wiped out in seconds. Shockwaves fractured space itself, warping the remains of the plane as if reality were nothing more than soft clay.

Distance held no significance. One kilometer? Ten? Twenty? It was all meaningless. They were masters of the sword. Their katanas ignored all limitations, including the concept of distance. With every exchange, the separate plane began to collapse from the edges inward, unable to endure the weight of their presence.

The destruction that Kingsley and Aura Nova had reached through complex skills and layered abilities was matched—and then surpassed—by Anthony and Lucian using nothing but physical madness and peak swordsmanship.

There was no mana involved. No Sword Intent. No sophisticated technique or augmentation. It was just raw physical power, terrifying speed, and the basic motions of the thrust and the slash. Yet, repeatedly, they turned entire planes into nothing, erasing them as if they had never been.

Explosions continued to burst as the plane was wiped away by two katanas. Space folded and shrieked as the last bits of the battlefield were devoured. In a blur too fast for the eye to follow, Anthony and Lucian appeared on a planet floating in the void.

The moment they landed, the planet groaned. The crust shattered immediately, oceans surged into massive walls of water, and the atmosphere caught fire from the sudden kinetic discharge. Their eyes locked—sky-blue meeting black. No words were spoken. No signals were given. No communication was needed between them.

In the next breath, they moved.

Their collision split the planet in two. Shockwaves surged through the mantle, magma erupted in fires the size of continents, and the core became unstable in a fraction of a second. The sky turned to fire as tectonic plates were ripped away, launching entire landmasses into orbit like pebbles. Billions of lives were snuffed out before a single thought could form; cities turned to dust and civilizations became echoes that would be forgotten. The planet screamed in its death throes, collapsing inward and outward at once until only drifting fragments remained in space.

Anthony and Lucian did not bother to look back. They were already used to destroying planets. Life, in any form, had no worth compared to the sword.

In a blinding flash, they stood upon a sun.

The star roared under their feet, its surface boiling with nuclear rage. Solar flares burst out wildly as their presence warped its balance. Their weapons cut through the air like spiders spinning webs of ruin, each motion slicing through light and plasma alike. Their speed remained steady and continued to climb, never falling below its peak for even a second.

Then Anthony’s katana flashed down from above, cutting through layers of stellar pressure. Lucian’s blade lunged upward from below, stabbing into the sun's very heart. With that massive melody of impact, the sun tore itself apart. It imploded violently, the core collapsing before exploding outward in a lethal release of energy. Waves of radiation and heat surged across the void, vaporizing nearby worlds and scouring entire star systems.

But they had already vanished.

They reappeared in the middle of a vast, beautiful nebula, where clouds of radiant gas and cosmic dust stretched forever. For a brief moment, the nebula flared brighter, reacting to their arrival.

Then they moved again.

The second they flashed through it, the nebula collapsed. Gravity twisted violently, and the delicate equilibrium was broken beyond repair. The nebula folded in on itself, compressing into a single blinding surge before exploding with enough force to erase a galaxy. Stars were created and destroyed in the same moment, and space was shredded by waves of destruction rippling through the dark.

Nothing existed that their katanas could not cut. To block them was to be erased. To stand in their path was to be sliced and diced without pity.

They turned into two streaks of motion tearing across the galaxy, leaving paths of devastation without hesitation. Entire systems disappeared behind them, reduced to fading radiation and debris. The galaxy itself seemed to groan under the weight of their power, acknowledging the inevitability of their path.

Anthony and Lucian did not care.

They were savages of the sword, madmen of the katana. They were servants to the blade and slaves to the path of the sword.

They knew only the sword. The sword was unstoppable.

The sword was law. The sword was justice. The sword was the sword. And the sword was the katana.

And all shall hail the katana.