MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 965: Torture

In that instant, Kingsley's battered form rested motionless in the ravine, his appearance so distorted it seemed Anthony had flayed him completely, leaving behind only stark bones and shredded muscles, with every bit of skin and tissue vanished as if it had never existed at all.

He was immersed in his own blood, where even the basic act of drawing breath felt like an impossible burden, his lungs heaving wildly to pull in air, his chest heaving and settling in erratic bursts as it forced blood through his veins at a pace and vigor it had never known, the beat wild, urgent, and teetering on the edge of failure.

Calling his condition merely beaten seemed too mild. Describing it as torment felt almost gentle right now, since every strand of his being howled in torment, from his nerves to his organs, bones, tendons, joints, and even the smallest fibers around his eyes and lids, all protesting fiercely just from holding his gaze open.

Right then, he appeared mere breaths from the grasp of death as he lay still without stirring, for he had never before mended from such utter devastation, and for the first time, even his incredible life force seemed to waver in doubt.

Kingsley's golden gaze stayed locked on the heavens without a twitch, unable to grit his jaws against the suffering since none remained, not one tooth intact after Anthony's ruthless strikes to the jaw had pulverized them all, leaving his mouth a wrecked void of mangled gums.

'My healing is lagging,' he mused inwardly, unsure of the cause, yet for the first time since gaining his gift, his recovery had stumbled and flickered like a flame on the verge of extinction. He couldn't fathom how this happened, but he pinned it on the Martial Rhythm's influence, the sole reason his thoughts could grasp.

Yet despite this insane level of torment, the Martial Rhythm still eluded him, and he pondered what further trials could be unleashed, if even deeper agony awaited, if anything surpassed this horror, if he could outlast it, if he could bear it, if screams would escape him.

The instant after, Kingsley's mending process wrapped up as all wounds across his frame sealed perfectly, the anguish dissolving with them like a slate wiped blank, but before he could haul himself up from the ravine, a subtle tremor ran through him, escalating into fierce convulsions as if seized by uncontrollable fits.

A puzzled frown crossed Kingsley's features for a split second, but right after, a gradual grin spread over his lips as he sensed the odd shifts stirring deep inside.

Once the healing finished, his form surged upward to the following stage after being driven to total ruin, as if it had at last adjusted to such frenzy, suffering, and damage, with the ordeal serving as the anvil and his body the metal forged upon it.

His sinews, hide, and every inner thread expanded then recoiled into position, hardening with tremendous might and velocity, his whole build realigning on the spot, his pulse quickening to drive blood with crushing intensity, his very cells thrumming with savage thrill as if he were rising to a whole new realm of being.

Immediately following, his frame let out a hiss as vapor escaped his pores and mingled with the atmosphere, warmth pouring off him like from a blazing hearth. Kingsley leaped upright in a flash, raw might and vigor surging fiercely along his bloodlines as he rose with a broad, nearly wild grin, the torment just suffered now a receding shadow, like a dream slipping away, since he had harvested some reward from the ordeal at least.

Anthony watched in silence, for he had just mentioned avoiding driving Kingsley to utter extremes, but now the warrior's physique had adjusted to the agony, the wounds, the chaos, and had thrust itself past former boundaries by sheer force.

"Congratulations, though this wasn't our aim, it'll simplify things greatly," Anthony said with a subtle smile, holding his ground steady and serene as always.

Kingsley, grinning like an idiot moments before, gradually let the expression fade, since despite the advancement, he remained unsure if he could rival Anthony. Yet after a quick reflection, he saw it had never really counted, as he had advanced in strength, leaving only the pursuit of the Martial Rhythm ahead.

Anthony's smile returned, and he added, "Now that your frame's tougher, your pain threshold must have soared, yeah!" he remarked steadily, ready to ramp up the intensity without pause.

But Kingsley hadn't even opened his mouth when Anthony vanished in a blur, reappearing right in his path as if planted there eternally. Kingsley's leap forward was a major boost, bestowing amplified strength, yet against Null Anthony, it changed nothing in the least.

His leg lifted from the soil, the Martial Rhythm wrapping his boot in an unseen flow as he launched a Brazilian kick, his foot slamming into Kingsley's torso with thunderous force, and seconds later a gruesome crack ripped through the air, tissue bursting apart as now Kingsley's entire chest cavity vanished utterly, his heart, ribs, and breastbone wiped from being, leaving just his upper arms, gut, and legs intact.

No spray of blood erupted, no innards or meat flew outward, no—it was pure, total erasure, as if the world had simply removed that section of him.

Kingsley's frame hurled rearward with savage force, his freshened mending rate kicking in at once as skeleton, vitals, and matter hurried to rebuild the lost part, piecing him back with horrifying swiftness. He slammed into a trunk far off before halting, but stayed put without stirring, slumped there quietly as if adrift in thought.

And truly he was, for a subtle yet mighty force coursed through his core now, something elusive but potent, unnamed yet vivid, nearly tangible as if he could seize it outright. He climbed slowly to his feet, and the second he did, Anthony loomed once more, his fist howling straight at his features.

Kingsley's palm lifted on reflex, a dim, transparent sheen cloaking his right hand, and in the blink after, his limb streaked up smoothly to snag Anthony's strike in his grip with stunning precision.

For the first time in the clash, Kingsley had parried a blow.

He had unlocked the Martial Rhythm.

Martial Rhythm now faced Martial Rhythm.