MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 324: Solvani

The world became a blur of brilliance as figures surged forward, their movements a symphony of lethal precision.

Blades gleamed like falling stars, their edges catching the light as they carved through the air.

Iserios Von Deathwrath, the Dragon King, moved with an almost maddening velocity, his very presence distorting reality.

The ground beneath him did not merely fracture; it disintegrated into nothingness, erased by the force of his advance.

In an instant, he stood before Solvani, a distinguished delegate of the Eclipsian order.

His sword fell with the weight of divinity itself, descending in an arc so swift and absolute that the very fabric of space split apart before its edge.

Solvani met the incoming strike with absolute indifference.

With a motion so effortless it bordered on boredom, he sidestepped at the final moment, his movement a study in minimalism.

Yet, Iserios had foreseen this.

His sword never touched the ground, his anticipation razor sharp.

A subtle flick of the wrist, muscles coiling like tempered steel, his balance shifted in an instant.

His blade, an extension of his will, surged upward in a diagonal arc, seeking its mark with relentless precision.

Solvani, unshaken, evaded once more with the same detached ease, as though humoring a child's futile struggle against an unyielding world.

He moved as though untouchable, an existence beyond the grasp of fate itself.

Then, with explosive force, Solvani's elbow snapped forward.

The very air ruptured around it, a shockwave heralding its brutal speed as it barreled toward Iserios' temple.

A sickening bam followed, the strike landing clean.

Iserios' body was sent hurtling sideways, streaking through space like a comet torn from its course.

Yet, in midair, he twisted effortlessly, regaining control with an almost unnatural grace before landing without the slightest misstep.

The blow had neither harmed him nor caused the faintest flicker of pain, his hardened skin had absorbed it with ease.

And then he smiled.

As much as he loathed to admit it, he relished where this was going.

As the Dragon King, he had spent most of his time confined within his castle, watching over the Dragon Domain from his throne of solitude.

For far too long, he had remained idle, bound by duty, with no worthy adversary to challenge him.

His life had dulled into monotony, an existence stripped of the thrill of battle.

But now, with the promise of unrestrained combat before him, exhilaration surged through his veins like fire.

A slow, knowing smile curled his lips as his voice cut through the air.

"I suppose there's no need to test the waters with you"

Then, a shift occurred.

The very air around him trembled as an unrestrained surge of battle intent rippled across the battlefield, an invisible tide of raw power.

In an instant, wings erupted from his back, vast, imposing, each movement stirring violent gusts.

Scales, gleaming with an almost sentient luster, slithered across his form, encasing him in an armor of living draconic might.

Then, his Sword Intent ignited, an overwhelming force that engulfed not just his blade, but his very being.

Yet, he was not done.

Thunder rumbled in the heavens, and in the next breath, lightning roared into existence, weaving seamlessly with the Sword Intent.

Two primal forces entwined in perfect harmony, amplifying one another in an endless cycle of devastation.

The air screamed.

The wind howled.

Space itself trembled.

Solvani watched in silence.

He could feel it, everything had changed.

Without ceremony, his weapon materialized in his grasp, a sabre, its edge gleaming with quiet menace.

His own Sword Intent flared to life, a silent proclamation of power, as flames erupted around him, their heat distorting the very air.

"Here I come"

Iserios declared, his voice edged with something primal.

"Come"

Solvani's reply was a single word, devoid of hesitation.

Then, Iserios moved.

But it was too late.

The sabre struck.

Like a knife through butter, his scales parted, torn open with brutal ease.

Blood erupted, crimson staining the sky.

Yet the wound had no time to linger.

Before the lifeblood could fully spill, Iserios' passive healing skill activated, flesh knitting, scales regenerating, the injury vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared.

But Solvani was far from finished.

His hand moved, seamless and fluid, already preparing the next strike.

His sabre flashed, faster than thought itself, a blade that carved through foes before their minds could even register the danger.

Wounds bloomed across Iserios' body, each one a testament to Solvani's relentless assault.

Yet, even as the injuries piled on, Iserios deflected where he could, his Sword Intent dampening the worst of the damage.

Then, with a powerful beat of his wings, he tore himself free from the engagement, forcing distance between them.

His maw parted.

Smoke curled from between his fangs, writhing like spectral tendrils.

Then his chest expanded, his body coiling with a power as ancient as dragons themselves.

Then it came—

[Dragon Breath]

It wasn't mere flame.

It was a beam, searing, devastating, the very essence of destruction given form.

The heat was beyond infernal, denser than molten rock, thick enough to drown the world in fire.

It surged forward in an unbroken line, a lance of annihilation aimed straight for Solvani.

Space itself fractured beneath its fury, the air warping, reality shuddering in protest.

Solvani didn't flinch.

He moved with absolute efficiency, calm, precise, inevitable.

With a single swing of his sabre, his blade met the beam head on.

For a fleeting moment, the world held its breath.

Then—

The beam split.

And then it detonated.

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An apocalyptic explosion erupted, shaking existence itself.

The sky blazed crimson and blue, a violent tapestry of destruction.

Searing heat devoured everything in its wake, reducing the battlefield to little more than ash and char.

Above, lightning raged, a celestial fury unleashed.

Bolts lanced downward, striking the earth with merciless wrath, tearing the land asunder.

Iserios' breath came unevenly.

Not from exhaustion—no, he was far from spent.

Iserios stood upon the scorched earth, his dragon eyes sweeping through the veil of smoke and ruin, searching.

Then—

A flicker.

A presence materialized behind him, an attack already in motion.

The closer Solvani drew, the colder the world became, as if existence itself recoiled from his approach.

Then—

Contact.

His sabre met flesh once more, carving through scales with the certainty of a sculptor chiseling perfection from marble.

But these strikes were more than mere wounds.

They cut through not just flesh.

They severed destiny itself.