MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 280: Thyros-2



In the desolate expanse of jagged rocks and crumbling stone, the air seemed to tremble, vibrating with the imminent clash of two forces.

The ground was marked with the scars of past conflicts, deep cracks running through the earth, the remnants of shattered stone pillars jutting from the landscape like the broken bones of a long dead giant.

Lucian moved first.

His figure blurred, disappearing from sight with a single, fluid step, the air itself crackling with the speed of his motion.

In an instant, he was before Thyros, his katana a streak of cold steel aimed directly at the chest of his opponent.

Thyros reacted without hesitation.

His eyes narrowed, and in the same heartbeat, his body twisted, arms, legs, and torso all working in perfect unison.

His right hand shot out, fingers like a vice as he caught the blade of Lucian's katana just an inch from his body, the metal glinting under the pale light.

The force of the strike sent a shockwave through the ground beneath them, but Thyros's grip was unyielding.

His body shifted with the pressure, using his legs to propel himself upward, lifting Lucian's blade with the momentum.

The katana glided upward as Thyros's fist followed, a powerful arc that slashed through the air toward Lucian's face.

Lucian was already gone.

In a blur, he vanished again, his figure reappearing behind Thyros in a whirl of movement.

This time, his blade cleaved through the air, targeting the back of Thyros's neck.

But Thyros, with the uncanny instinct of a predator, swung his leg in a vicious arc, slamming his knee into the ground and spinning his body, the force of the movement just enough to deflect Lucian's strike.

The katana carved a deep gash through the stone where Thyros had been, and as the blade met the earth, a jagged explosion of stone and dust erupted into the air.

The ground buckled under the intensity of their clash, dust rising in thick clouds, obscuring their figures for a moment.

They didn't need the moment to catch their breath.

Lucian shot through the cloud of debris, his body a blur of calculated movements.

He slashed, his katana cutting through the space before Thyros even had the chance to react.

But Thyros's reflexes were just as honed.

With a swift motion, he ducked low, his body bending and coiling as he slid beneath Lucian's strike.

In that same motion, his fist shot up from the ground, aimed squarely at Lucian's stomach.

Lucian twisted mid air, narrowly avoiding the blow, but Thyros's attack didn't stop there.

His left foot struck the earth, propelling him upward with inhuman speed.

In the span of a heartbeat, his fist nearly found its mark, the force of the strike shaking the very air between them as Lucian blocked.

Lucian staggered back but immediately regained his stance, the katana raised in front of him like an extension of his own will.

The fight continued in a blur of motion, every strike, every move, a precise counter to the other's actions.

Neither man spoke, only the rhythm of their movements filled the space, punctuated by the deafening crash of their attacks.

Thyros's body was a whirlwind of motion, his fists, feet, and shoulders all becoming weapons in their own right.

He spun and struck with the power of a storm, each blow aiming to land just beyond Lucian's reach.

The air crackled with the intensity of the battle, each movement setting off waves of destruction in their wake.

Lucian was no less relentless.

His katana was an extension of his soul, its edge an answer to each of Thyros's strikes.

He danced around the blows with graceful fluidity, the blade slicing through the air with pinpoint precision, aiming for openings that barely existed.

His strikes were swift and controlled, yet they carried the weight of years of training, every cut an expression of his mastery. Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire

With a flick of his wrist, Lucian redirected his katana to meet Thyros's fist, the blade slicing through the air with such speed that it seemed to hum with power.

Thyros's fist collided with the steel, the impact sending a shockwave through the ground, splintering the rocks beneath them.

A crater formed where their bodies had collided, the jagged edges of stone now twisted and cracked under the force of their combined strength.

And yet, neither stopped.

Thyros's foot connected with Lucian's katana, the force sending him spinning through the air, but Lucian, without missing a beat, landed on the jagged edge of a stone pillar, his body seemingly weightless for the briefest of moments.

He pushed off, leaping back toward Thyros with the same fluidity as before, his katana flashing as it carved through the air.

The blade was aimed for Thyros's head, but Thyros didn't flinch.

His entire body moved in perfect harmony, twisting in a way that allowed him to narrowly avoid the strike.

His hand shot out, grabbing Lucian's wrist with the precision of a master.

In one swift motion, he yanked Lucian's arm down, forcing the katana to carve deep into the stone beneath them.

The clash of their bodies echoed across the wasteland.

Lucian's legs snapped forward, delivering a sharp kick to Thyros's mid section, but Thyros absorbed the blow, rolling with it, his body bending in ways that defied normal human movement.

He was everywhere at once, his fists, feet, elbows, and knees all contributing to the chaos.

He struck with the force of a thunderclap, his body a blur of motion.

Lucian's counterattack was just as precise, his blade flashing like a streak of light, each swing aimed with casual intent.

Yet, every strike met the same unyielding resistance from Thyros's body, his movements shifting and flowing around the blade, his strikes only growing more intense as the battle wore on.

The ground beneath them shattered with each step, each punch, each kick.

Stone pillars crumbled, and jagged rocks were sent flying through the air as their battle raged on.

The very landscape seemed to respond to their fight, the earth itself quaking with the force of their strikes.

Yet, through all the chaos, there was no clear winner, no decisive blow.

Neither man faltered.

Neither man gave an inch.

Their movements were too fast for the eye to follow, each attack a perfect counter to the other's.

Every strike, every dodge, every shift in position seemed to lead to another equally matched move.

The environment around them was reduced to rubble, the jagged rocks splintering and cracking under the pressure, but still, neither seemed to tire, nor did their blows lose any of their force.

The expanse of crumbling stone and jagged peaks became a battleground where the laws of nature seemed to bend and break under the force of their confrontation.

Yet neither of them faltered, their pure physical power and skill the only thing keeping them moving forward, locked in a battle without end.


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