MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 936: City

Emerging from the billowing clouds of grit and debris, Lucian advanced with a measured, steady gait. His entire frame was submerged in obsidian Sword Intent that pulsed with every step. The very atmosphere seemed to cower before him, warping under the suffocating pressure of his aura.

'He’s keeping pace with me without even activating his own Sword Intent... truly the hallmark of a protagonist,' Lucian mused, a phantom of a smile ghosting across his lips. Even acknowledging that Anthony was a living, breathing cheat code, Lucian found it impossible to grasp how his opponent matched him so casually, devoid of any visible Cultivation enhancement or physical augmentation.

'Is the disparity truly this vast?' he questioned himself. He wasn't shocked that Anthony’s blade hadn't shattered upon meeting his Sword Intent; any lesser weapon would have been reduced to dust in an instant. Yet, Anthony’s katana remained flawless, without a single nick. Lucian realized this was due to the weapon's indestructible trait. That fact alone accounted for the blade's integrity.

'Is he utilizing his infinity to dampen the effect of my Sword Intent?' Lucian’s eyes narrowed as he analyzed the situation. 'No... that isn't it.' He discarded the theory immediately. 'Anthony avoids using his infinity because he knows it's redundant in a clash like this. Regardless, it changes nothing,' he decided.

A grin slowly carved its way onto his face as his Sword Intent reached a crescendo, erupting toward the heavens like a dark tsunami. It coiled around his limbs in savage, feral ribbons, vibrating in sync with his rising battle intent. His presence intensified, becoming so dense it felt as though the world was being crushed under his singular will. Today, blood would be spilled.

With that final conviction, Lucian moved.

The earth beneath him shrieked in protest before disintegrating entirely. Stone fractured and detonated as Lucian lunged forward at a velocity that defied all logic and calculation. Space itself became irrelevant. In less than a nanosecond, he reached Anthony, his katana raised toward the sky before swinging down like a falling star, the black Sword Intent howling in a violent wake.

Anthony could feel the staggering weight of Lucian’s presence just by being near him. It bore down on him with the force of a dying sun. He had to give credit where it was due; the man’s Sword Intent and his mastery over it were exceptionally polished. Lucian had clearly reached the threshold of the ultimate summit, standing just a hair’s breadth from the absolute peak.

To Anthony, however, even this was insufficient. With a calm that bordered on mockery, Anthony returned his katana to its sheath.

He raised a single finger.

That lone finger intercepted a strike capable of cleaving through planets and stars, a blow that could wipe entire systems from the map without meeting resistance.

In a chaotic symphony of ruin, flesh collided with black Sword Intent. Time itself splintered upon the impact, freezing as if it feared to continue its flow. The surrounding colors were bleached away, leaving only a void of absolute monochrome. Silence reigned for the briefest moment in history—a hollow pause that felt like an eternity.

Then, in the following heartbeat, reality rushed back.

Time resumed. Color flooded the world once more. And as it did, a literal apocalypse was unleashed upon the realm.

Massive sections of reality were simply erased. Entire regions vanished into nothingness as the shockwave of power exploded outward with blinding light. Though Klaus had reinforced this separate plane, he had drastically underestimated the raw devastation contained within Lucian’s strike. The Sword Intent sliced through the fabric of the world, parting the entire plane in two.

For a split second, the dimension threatened to dissolve into the void.

But then it snapped back together, stitching its wounds violently as if the laws of existence refused to surrender.

As the dust settled and the haze evaporated, two silhouettes became visible. One was shrouded in a tempest of black Sword Intent that warped the space around him. The other stood tall and unbothered, a subtle smile on his face, having neutralized a world-ending catastrophe with nothing but a finger.

Lucian’s pupils shrank to needles. He couldn't wrap his mind around the sight. Anthony had halted his full-power, Sword-Intent-driven strike with a single digit. He moved to pull back his blade, his survival instincts screaming at him to retreat, but Anthony was faster. Anthony’s fingers clamped onto Lucian’s blade, his palm and skin completely unaffected by the Sword Intent that tried to shred him. With a sudden, effortless jerk, he hauled Lucian toward him.

Lucian fought to hold his ground, but it was useless.

Anthony’s physical strength was monstrous, far exceeding any of Lucian’s projections. He was dragged forward, and the moment his center of gravity broke, Anthony’s leg blurred. Before Lucian could even register the movement, Anthony’s knee smashed into his jaw like a hammer hitting an eggshell.

Even sound seemed to break, refusing to echo in that moment. Lucian’s head was whipped violently to the side, his neck and body following the brutal momentum. In the next instant, he was a streak of light, launched sideways through the air and across kilometers by the force of that single knee strike.

Lucian felt his mind teetering on the edge of a dark abyss. Agony radiated from his broken jaw, surging directly into his brain. Despite the protection of his Sword Intent, the raw, overwhelming pain of that single hit pierced through.

He couldn't fathom it.

Anthony’s speed and power had surpassed every limit Lucian thought existed.

A second later, Lucian’s body plowed into a concrete wall, shattering it before bursting through another, and then another. He spiraled through a massive glass tower that exploded into shards upon contact before finally thudding into the asphalt below. The kinetic energy behind that one strike was simply... immeasurable.

Effortlessly, Lucian stood up.

He climbed out of the crater his body had hammered into the street. Because he was still encased in Sword Intent, the collisions hadn't caused any lasting physical damage. He felt no dizziness, no frailty, and no loss of balance.

His gaze darted around, assessing the new environment. Towering skyscrapers loomed. Vehicles lined the roads. A landscape of steel, glass, and concrete now stretched out where the previous battlefield had been.

Without being told, he knew the arena had shifted; they were in a city now. Suddenly, Lucian sensed a presence. His instincts flared as he whipped his head to the side.

Anthony was there.

He stood on the edge of a hundred-story roof, looking down at Lucian. His white hair whipped in the wind, and his sapphire eyes shone with a calm, absolute confidence. He didn't speak or move. He simply waited, as if giving Lucian the courtesy of the next move.

A heavy, suffocating silence hung between them—a silent war of wills and a battle of gazes before the inevitable storm.