MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Two luminous flashes collided, then separated at breakneck speed, streaking across the battlefield like twin comets.

Sparks ignited the sky as their swords clashed in a symphony of steel, the metallic reverberations echoing through the city streets.

Glug slashed at Igris' waist with lethal intent, but Igris deftly raised his longsword, parrying the strike with effortless grace.

With a fluid motion, he retaliated, his blade carving an upward arc through the air, tearing apart the very space it passed through.

Sensing the incoming strike, Glug sidestepped with razor sharp reflexes, evading the deadly edge by a hair's breadth.

The force of Igris' missed strike did not go to waste, his sword cleaved cleanly through a bungalow, splitting it in two as if it were mere parchment beneath a razor.

Seizing the opening, Glug launched a vicious knee toward Igris' head, his leg snapping forward like a striking viper.

Igris' eyes flared crimson, catching the movement instantly.

With impeccable precision, he raised his arm, intercepting the blow with an unshakable defense.

They locked eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them, words were unnecessary; their blades spoke in their stead.

And then, they vanished.

The ground fractured beneath their sheer velocity, roads buckling and splintering into jagged ruins.

Windows exploded in their wake, glass shards catching the light as they rained down like scattered stars.

The clash of steel rang out in relentless succession, a chorus of sharp, resonant echoes that filled the air.

Each strike was precise, each movement a reflection of their master's unwavering intent. Stay connected via My Virtual Library Empire

Igris' hand became a blur, his blade slicing through the air with lightning speed, a thousand slashes unleashed in the blink of an eye.

The atmosphere itself trembled, detonating under the sheer force and velocity of his assault.

But Glug was not one to be overwhelmed.

His sword met each strike with equal swiftness and power, deflecting the onslaught in a dazzling display of precision and mastery.

The duplex beneath them groaned under the pressure before shattering entirely, reduced to rubble by the sheer magnitude of their clash.

Stone, pebbles, and dust were sent hurtling backward, caught in the shockwaves of two titanic beings locked in battle.

Before Glug could launch a counterattack, Igris' fist was already in motion.

Like a comet colliding with a planet, his strike crashed into Glug's chest with unrelenting force.

A sickening bam echoed through the battlefield as Glug was sent hurtling backward, unable to react in time.

Pain surged through his torso, though the impact was dulled by the armor shielding him.

His body slammed into a car, metal crumpling beneath him as he skidded uncontrollably.

A thin line of green blood trickled down his lips, a stark reminder of the sheer power behind Igris' blow.

Glug wasted no time lingering in the wreckage.

With swift urgency, he pushed himself up, there was no room for hesitation on the battlefield.

As he steadied himself, ready to reengage, his sharp eyes caught movement.

Five short knives hurtled toward his vital points, slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Without flinching, he deflected them with a single, fluid sweep of his sword, the blades ricocheting harmlessly away.

Then, he looked up.

Igris stood poised, his sword resting easily in one hand, while the other remained outstretched, fingers curled as if commanding unseen forces.

The short knives obeyed, reversing their course midair and sliding back into their holsters with eerie precision.

His cape billowed behind him, caught in the restless wind.

Glug wiped the streak of green blood from his lips, his gaze sharpening.

His opponent was no ordinary swordsman.

He was a genius, just as Glug was.

To stand at the Transcendent Rank was a feat in itself.

But for a goblin to reach such a level?

That was nothing short of a miracle.

Then, he decided to take the battle to another level.

Then the air shifted.

No....the air didn't just shift, it screamed.

It trembled.

It shook.

An almost invisible force rippled through the battlefield, an overwhelming presence that made the very atmosphere quiver as if recoiling in fear.

Sword Intent.

For the first time since the beginning of this Starborn Tournament, true Sword Intent blossomed into existence, saturating the air with an oppressive, razor sharp aura.

Glug's voice was steady, but the weight behind his words was undeniable.

"I'll be getting serious now"

His Sword Intent surged, its intensity growing with terrifying speed.

He had yet to move, yet devastation unfurled around him.

The sheer presence of his unleashed Sword Intent carved through the landscape, cracks splintered across the ground, buildings groaned before being cleaved apart, and cars and trucks were reduced to ribbons of metal.

Sword marks etched themselves onto every surface, evidence of raw, uncontrolled power.

Glug's grip tightened around his weapon.

Even he hadn't yet mastered the sheer force of his own Sword Intent as he was still new to this power.

Those of the Transcendent Rank rarely tapped into such power.

Or rather… there was no mana rank requirement for wielding Sword Intent.

Unlike elemental magic, which relied on the refinement of mana, the path of the sword followed a different principle.

Advancing from Sword Aura to Sword Intent required no external energy, only mastery.

To unlock Sword Intent, one had to push Sword Aura to its absolute limit, attaining perfect control over its form, flow, and execution.

Once this mastery was achieved, Sword Aura would naturally evolve into Sword Intent, a force that transcended mere technique and became an extension of one's will.

In the end, it all came down to talent.

Even a warrior of the Mortal Rank could wield Sword Intent, if they possessed the genius and discipline to perfect their Sword Aura.

Igris remained silent, offering no response to Glug's words, he had never been much of a talker.

Instead, he simply willed it.

Sword Intent surged into existence, enveloping his blade with effortless grace.

Unlike Glug's raw, untamed force, Igris' Sword Intent was more refined and controlled.

Every movement of his sword carried an air of mastery, the kind that came not just from talent but from sheer discipline and experience.

All of Anthony's Shadows were anomalies, individuals who had transcended their former limitations.

Even those who had been talentless in life became unparalleled geniuses under Anthony's command.

But Igris had been different.

Even before death, he had already been exceptional.

Now, under Anthony's control, armed with boundless resources and the Divine realm, Sword Intent was nothing more than a stepping stone.

As Sword Intent distorted the very air around them, both combatants prepared to strike.

Their knees bent slightly, muscles coiled like tightly wound springs, then, in an instant, they launched forward with thundering speed.

The moment their weapons met, infused with the raw force of their Sword Intent, the world itself seemed to shatter.

Time slowed.

Sound vanished.

For the briefest second, reality was stripped away, everything was consumed by an all encompassing white void, as if existence itself had paused to bear witness to their clash.

Then time resumed.

Sound returned.

And with it, a cataclysmic boutade erupted, tearing through the battlefield with an earth shattering force.