MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 947: Decapitation [Bonus - ]

The atmosphere shattered when Kingsley's knee encountered nothing but void, the explosive power scattering wildly into the emptiness, and as soon as his boots struck the soil once more, he streaked forward in a haze, the terrain cracking apart under the immense thrust of his launch. Thirty minutes had ticked by in his strict one-hour timeframe, but Kingsley remained baffled by Aaaninja's eerie knack for countering all his strikes with impossible grace.

Kingsley ought to reign supreme in near-range brawls, the unchallenged king of pure melee clashes, yet Aaaninja held his own without faltering, shadowing every advance like Kingsley's every action had been foreseen and drilled in advance.

'If only I could unleash my Concept Of Destruction, this fight would be done,' he mused inwardly with quiet frustration building inside. Inside the Law Defiance Field, deploying his Concept Of Destruction was forbidden, allowing just unadulterated hand-to-hand warfare, reducing him to sheer bodily prowess, skill, and gut feeling, making the duel raw and savage.

His velocity surged anew as he closed in on Aaaninja faster than an eye could follow, warping the surrounding air like the world struggled to keep pace. His elbow whipped sideways at Aaaninja's head with devastating might, but Aaaninja shifted backward steadily and composed, and just as Kingsley geared up for the next strike, a gleaming silver streak blinded him, accompanied by the sharp slice of steel parting through skin.

Crimson droplets sprayed skyward in a vivid curve, followed by a solid thump as Kingsley's detached limb hit the dirt, its digits spasming while tumbling over the fractured ground.

Aaaninja pressed on without a second's delay or flicker of doubt, his sword now hurtling at Kingsley's throat with deadly purpose. Kingsley flickered away instantly, creating space from Aaaninja, his lingering phantom form dissolving like mist.

Aaaninja held his ground without pursuing—why bother when the Law Defiance Field's timer was his ally the longer it lingered—so he remained still, his weapon shedding Kingsley's vital fluid.

Kingsley paused in quiet as his limb reformed in an instant, muscles mending, skeleton fusing, sinews linking as if the clock had turned backward. He grasped the reason for his wound; he'd figured that after breaking Aaaninja's blade, the fight would revert to bare-handed scraps like earlier.

He never saw Aaaninja drawing a fresh sword from his space ring, and that oversight proved costly, a tiny lapse that almost ended him. Aaaninja played it smart by holding off on revealing the spare weapon right away, baiting Kingsley into overconfidence. Yet he'd aimed to sever Kingsley's head for good, wrapping it all up in one fatal swing, only for the scheme to fall short.

He yearned to wrap up this skirmish and charge into his showdown with Anthony straightaway, treating Kingsley as mere baggage blocking his main goal.

Kingsley held still briefly, then lunged once more—a lone wound wouldn't spark fear or excessive wariness in him; it was just an error, nothing more, and errors demanded fixing through bold moves, not timid pauses.

As he bridged the gap anew, Aaaninja's sword gleamed in a metallic sweep before Kingsley could launch his assault, compelling a reflexive dodge. But in that split second, the blade tracked him relentlessly, curving its trajectory like the very fabric of space yielded to it. Without pause, Kingsley thrust up his arm to parry the edge, igniting a shower of sparks on impact.

He launched off the ground, his knee rocketing at Aaaninja's jaw like a fired projectile, but Aaaninja lifted an arm, snaring the limb with chilling accuracy, his other hand streaking to slice it off—yet Kingsley countered with a blazing punch from his open side, compelling Aaaninja to drop the offense and switch to guarding seamlessly.

A thunderous clash rang out as knuckles slammed into steel with colossal power, shoving both warriors sliding back, their steps gouging furrows into the soil. Yet the instant they halted, they exploded ahead in a whirlwind of speed and precision, erasing any trace of that momentary lull.

Their forms dissolved into frantic blurs while Kingsley hammered out assault after assault with wild fury and intensity, each hit strong enough to flatten buildings and crumble rock. Aaaninja, however, redirected them all aside with serene control and a blank face. No matter Kingsley's quickness, Aaaninja synced perfectly, rendering their power gap meaningless, ensuring no solid blow from Kingsley ever connected despite his efforts.

In a flash, they materialized atop a ridge, Kingsley airborne and plummeting like a meteor, his heel crashing down with planet-shaking potency. Aaaninja refused to meet that blow head-on, sidestepping fluidly and leaving a ghostly echo behind.

The ridge's summit exploded under Kingsley's descending strike with cataclysmic might, fissures racing across its form and facade, culminating in a roar that blasted it into chunks and debris. Dust plumes billowed upward, twisting and roiling to blanket the scene in a choking fog. But Aaaninja's weapon sliced through, metallic trails slashing the haze and very air, his strikes encircling Kingsley from every angle.

Kingsley drove his sole into the dirt, channels pulsing beneath as he erupted into sheer speed and drive, his knuckles batting away each incoming sword thrust from Aaaninja. The second his punch shattered the final one, he froze, gripping his hands firm, pulling them back like a bow drawn to breaking point, then unleashed a barrage of punches in relentless streaks.

The atmosphere warped, then burst forth in a blasting surge aimed at Aaaninja with insane pressure, squeezing all in its way. Yet Aaaninja confronted them with his sword, his form impeccable and without flaw as he cleaved through every bit with absurd simplicity, shattering the blasts like brittle panes.

The arena in his wake and flanks crumbled to wreckage, peaks demolished, land flipped, pits yawning without end, but such destruction meant nothing to him; his gaze locked solely on the incoming threat, his concentration total and unbroken.

Suddenly, the Law Defiance Field crumbled away as the hour mark surpassed, essence rushing back like an incoming wave. Kingsley and Aaaninja sensed their bond to their powers and skills reconnect, the known strength surging through their veins anew.

'Looks like I'll need to stretch this out,' he reflected as his strategy to conclude within sixty minutes crumbled.

With a mental nudge, he reached for his Concept Of Destruction, but before any move, Aaaninja loomed meters to his rear, sliding his sword into its scabbard like victory was sealed.

'How did he slip behind—' his thought halted as a slender cut etched across his throat, barely visible, and darkness engulfed his sight, gore erupting as his head parted from his body at a velocity beyond grasp.

And thus, Kingsley Sky fell defeated by beheading.

_______