MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

As they advanced, the Executioner grinned and extended his hand, as though summoning something unseen.

And indeed, he was.

The sword, which had hovered motionlessly at his side since the very beginning, vanished in an instant, only to reappear in his grasp.

A mysterious energy surged around the blade, enveloping it with effortless fluidity.

Then, with a fluid motion, he swung forward to meet the oncoming attacks.

With an apocalyptic boom, Anthony's katana and Kingsley's fist collided with the Executioner's blade.

In that instant, the entire chamber imploded.

The ground fractured violently beneath their feet; the ceiling caved in with a thunderous roar, while walls and windows shattered under the sheer force of the impact.

Seraphim, Dale, and Reynold were hurled backward like ragdolls, the spiritual barrier around them disintegrating, shattered like glass beneath a hammer's strike.

"One wielding Intent. The other, a Concept. Both dabbling in powers far beyond what their age and time should permit"

The Executioner remarked, his tone calm and detached, as if merely observing a passing breeze.

Their combined assault, to him, was nothing more than a child's tantrum.

In a blink, the three figures disappeared.

A cold, confident grin lingered on the Executioner's face.

In contrast, Anthony and Kingsley's eyes were sharp, etched with ice and unshakeable resolve.

The clash of metal rang out through the hall, which groaned in protest as it struggled to reconstruct itself amidst the chaos.

Anthony materialized before the Executioner, his katana descending with a force that seemed capable of cleaving a star in two, his sword intent sharp, wild, and relentless.

Yet with effortless precision, the Executioner shifted his stance, diverting the strike with a subtle movement of his foot.

His blade snapped forward in response, aiming straight for Anthony's head.

But space trembled.

And in the blink of an eye, Anthony vanished, teleporting away just as the edge of death brushed past him.

While the Executioner was still in motion, Kingsley emerged like a phantom, his fist lancing upward with deadly precision.

His lips parted as he moved, voice low but resonant.

Concept Destruction

The very same force that had once torn open the sky now surged through his strike.

But the Executioner was no ordinary man.

With an elegant twist of his waist, his body flowed in perfect synchronicity, his movement flawless, almost divine.

His palm moved forward, as his own lips parted in calm defiance.

Concept Reflection

The Executioner's hand closed around Kingsley's fist, effortlessly, almost lazily.

The world seemed to fall silent.

Time itself held its breath.

Then it struck.

Destruction.

The very fabric of reality trembled as the laws of Concept twisted, inverted, and surged back, slamming into Kingsley with unforgiving force.

Everything behind him was annihilated, reduced to scattered atoms and fading echoes.

Kingsley was launched backward like a broken kite caught in a storm, his body spinning through the air with no control, no resistance.

Kingsley's entire arm ruptured on impact.

Blood sprayed through the air, veins snapped out of place, bones were pulverized into dust, and muscle tore like worn fabric.

Though his body had long since adapted to pain, this was something else, something transcendent in its cruelty.

He gritted his teeth, every nerve alight as agony tore through him like wildfire.

His body instinctively tried to adapt, to stabilize, but Concept was no ordinary force.

It operated above mere flesh, beyond instinct.

The Executioner watched him with detached amusement and spoke, his voice steady and cold.

"You're just a child… playing with a power that doesn't even belong to this galaxy"

He had done the unthinkable, reflected Kingsley's own Concept back at him.

Anthony appeared beside the Executioner in an instant, his katana slicing through the air, aimed cleanly at the man's neck.

But the Executioner merely took a single step back, his expression untouched, watching the blade pass across his face as if time itself had slowed.

He had seen it coming.

So had Anthony.

Mid-swing, his blade halted, then redirected with blinding speed, crashing downward with a force that threatened to fracture the very laws of the hall.

Yet the Executioner's smile never wavered.

With effortless grace, he raised his sword.

Steel met steel.

BOOM.

The impact roared through the chamber, shaking its foundations with a violence that threatened to bring the entire structure down.

Anthony's Sword Intent raged like a storm, slicing, tearing, devouring all in its path. It howled with purpose, raw and unrelenting.

Yet to the Executioner, it was nothing more than a breeze.

He swaggered through it all without effort, as if swatting away the tantrums of a child.

But Anthony didn't relent.

His style shifted, fluid and sudden.

The air around him grew colder, heavier.

Void energy bled into his sword intent, merging with his katana until the very edge of the blade shimmered with raw power.

Then he moved.

A single slash tore through the space between them.

[Endless Technique: Katana Series: Existential Nihility]

A strike, one Anthony had unleashed only once before.

A technique capable of erasing not just matter, but the very concept of existence itself.

"Interesting"

The Executioner muttered, his gaze sharpening as he recognized that Anthony had tapped into the void, a power far beyond the ordinary.

The air around the Executioner shimmered, ripples of energy emanating from his blade.

It moved with deadly elegance, carving arcs through the very fabric of space as it met Anthony's attack head-on.

Anthony's body shuddered under the force, blood trickled from his lips as his internal organs were crushed, reduced to a pulpy mess within him.

But Infinite Regeneration kicked in immediately, repairing the damage with brutal efficiency, the wounds knitting together almost before the pain had fully registered.

'What is this energy around his sword?'

Anthony thought, his focus razor-sharp as he fought on.

The Executioner's blade pulsed with a strange, unknown energy, one that seemed to nullify Anthony's Sword Intent as if it were nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

Anthony's gaze flickered briefly to Kingsley.

'It seems even his body struggles to adapt to an attack from a Concept'

The thought lingered in his mind, clear and unyielding.

Indeed, Kingsley's body, his flesh, his very being, was fighting against the unnatural force that had shattered him.

An attack born from a Concept wasn't simply powerful, it transcended the boundaries of the galaxy itself.

A clone of Anthony materialized beside Kingsley, casting Light Magic in an attempt to heal him, but it was futile. Even potions, normally reliable, offered no respite.

Frustration flickered in the clone's eyes as he called out to the system.

'System, give me anything that can heal him'

[Ding]

[Affirmative, Host]

[However, it will cost the Host all points for this month, as the attack is derived from a Concept]

'No problem'

Without hesitation, the clone agreed, and a small, seed-like object appeared in his hand.

He didn't waste time asking the system for the seed's details.

He knew better than to waste precious moments.

With a swift motion, he threw the seed into Kingsley's mouth.

The effect was immediate.

Within a fraction of a second, Kingsley's body surged with energy, his wounds knitting together as though they had never existed.

In the blink of an eye, he was back on his feet.

"Thank you"

Kingsley's voice was filled with gratitude, but there was a flicker of something more, something knowing.

The clone regarded him silently before speaking, his voice calm but tinged with inevitability.

"I know your Concept abilities, under your Talent, make you so overpowered. But they are meaningless against someone with a greater mastery over Concepts than you"

Without waiting for a response, the clone vanished, leaving Kingsley standing in the aftermath of the encounter.