MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 312 Soul Art

Everything had been undone, or rather, nothing had truly reversed.

Only Lucian had.

His restoration was absolute.

Mana surged around him, coalescing with renewed vigor.

His core, once lost, reformed seamlessly in its rightful place.

Power flooded his being, his energies reigniting, while his wounds knitted themselves shut at an astonishing pace.

Reality Anchor had never possessed the authority to rewrite existence on such a scale.

Originally, it was merely Space Anchor, its purpose limited, its function straightforward.

In essence, it was almost no different from Anthony's Spatial Mark, a skill designed to etch a point in space, allowing its wielder to return to it at will.

There is a reason why Lucian's ability was not simply called Copy, but rather Absolute Copy.

Unlike others, when Lucian replicated an ability, he required no training to elevate it.

With each advancement in rank, every copied skill evolved alongside him, as though it were an intrinsic part of his being.

For most, increasing their skill control and damage demanded relentless effort, honing their techniques, refining their control, and ensuring balance.

Take Aaaninja, for instance, whose ultimate goal was to increase his mastery over the time element.

Lucian, however, was an anomaly.

He had no need for rigorous training or meditative discipline.

All he required was cultivation, nothing more.

The skill Null Field originally nullified only mana for a limited duration.

However, under the influence of Lucian's Absolute Copy, it underwent a transformation, elevated to the point where it could now nullify all forms of energy.

As Aaaninja's skill was forcefully rewritten, a violent backlash surged through him.

His skin turned deathly pale for a fleeting moment before he erupted into a fit of bloodied coughs.

Yet, his reaction was swift.

Without hesitation, he activated Temporal Rewind, reversing the damage and restoring himself in an instant.

However, the sheer amount of mana required to manipulate Reality and Order was staggering.

Aaaninja's breaths grew ragged, his movements sluggish, the weight of excessive mana expenditure taking its toll.

But Lucian was no exception.

He, too, had rewritten reality, and while the system assisted him, it did not exempt him from the price.

The overwhelming abilities they had wielded from the very start had drained their mana reserves to the brink of exhaustion.

Now, with little energy left to spare, even if they had more techniques at their disposal, they lacked the mana to unleash them.

Their gazes locked, intensity radiating from their battle worn forms, determination burning in their eyes.

Then, before Aaaninja could make a move, Lucian activated a skill.

[Cosmic Equilibrium]

A pulse of energy rippled outward, expanding in concentric waves that warped the very fabric of the battlefield.

Aaaninja's expression darkened as the skill he had just activated was abruptly nullified, severed by Lucian's interference before it could take effect.

Cosmic Equilibrium granted Lucian the ability to enforce a state of perfect balance, stabilizing energy fluctuations and preventing any unnatural acceleration or deceleration of physical processes.

In that instant, techniques like Temporal Acceleration and Time Slow became utterly meaningless.

But it didn't matter to Aaaninja.

Then, their Sword Intents collided.

The impact was cataclysmic.

A world ending eruption of power tore through the battlefield, distorting the air, fracturing the earth.

The very fabric of space trembled under the force of their clash.

But neither of them cared.

They were both on the brink, bodies weak, mana reserves nearly depleted, their strength stretched thin.

Yet, they had no choice.

They had to move.

And so, they did.

In a final, desperate clash, they blurred.

Lightning and wind clashed, flashing in a chaotic storm that tore through the battlefield, rending the world apart with every strike.

They moved like phantoms, streaks of light marking their paths, too fast for the eye to follow.

Before sound could even register their presence, they were already gone.

Lucian wielded his katana like an artist guiding a brush, each stroke deliberate, each motion an intricate masterpiece.

His movements were a silent waltz, elegant, deadly, and precise.

But Aaaninja was no less formidable.

His swordplay was a whisper of death, gliding through the air with the finesse of a master artisan.

Each swing carried a chilling finality, his every step a calculated maneuver, as sharp and decisive as the blade in his hands.

Their blades moved faster than sight could follow, silver streaks weaving a dance of annihilation.

Their speed tore through the fabric of reality, so intense that time itself seemed to fracture around them.

Each strike carved the air with lethal precision, leaving no openings, no room for retreat.

But as with all things, this battle, too, had to end.

Aaaninja's blade shot forward, his technique honed to absolute perfection, an execution of mastery beyond flaw.

Yet, he froze.

Before realization could even dawn upon him, before his mind could register what had occurred,

Lucian's sword flashed forward.

Lucian's katana was a viper, striking before Aaaninja could even sense the impending doom.

[Soul Art: Soul Severance]

His blade left only afterimages in its wake, spectral remnants of death lingering in the air.

Then came the bite of steel.

Lucian's katana carved through both flesh and soul, a strike that transcended the physical, rending existence itself.

Aaaninja stood frozen, his eyes wide, his mind struggling to grasp what had just transpired.

Then, with a dull thud, his body collapsed to the ground.

His consciousness flickered, and faded.

Lucian stood over him, the remnants of battle still crackling in the air.

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A slow, victorious smile spread across his face.

He had won.