MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 967: Martial Dimension

Kingsley tried to make the Martial Rhythm flow through his entire body like before, but he failed, it felt like dragging water through mud... if he even understood what that meant, the resistance heavy and stubborn, as though something invisible was weighing down every attempt he made to guide the current through his limbs, the once effortless sensation now distant and frustratingly out of reach.

”You’ve only just awakened it, previously, you were only able to cloak your entire body in it simply because you entered your awakening state,” Anthony spoke as he stared at Kingsley, his tone patient and measured, ”Martial Rhythm is kind of like mana and other energies, although you don’t use them, you have knowledge about them, you will have to train it from the beginning, kind of how you trained your Concept Of Destruction,” he explained calmly, as though describing something obvious and natural, something inevitable rather than difficult.

Kingsley stayed silent for a moment, then nodded in understanding, although he had never come in contact with any form of energy, he had a bit of knowledge on how they worked, after all, he wasn’t exactly dumb or stupid. But besides, that didn’t matter, Martial Rhythm wasn’t an energy, it was a flow, a law, a reality, as though it was a Concept itself, something fundamental and absolute rather than something that could simply be stored or spent, something that existed everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

”But don’t worry about having to spend decades training it. With your current knowledge and experience on things like Concepts of Destruction and various martial arts, you should be able to gain proficiency pretty easily, then master it in a couple weeks or a month,” Anthony stated calmly, as though what he described was perfectly reasonable and not an achievement that others would dedicate their entire lives chasing in vain.

Kingsley arched an eyebrow, wondering if it was truly that easy, Anthony didn’t reply to the silent inquisition, Kingsley would only understand when he trained, with his ridiculous Physique and talent, it would be easy for him to master what others couldn’t, what even those of the ancient past who had awakened had spent ages training and still never perfected.

Despite Kingsley losing to almost everyone here, it didn’t mean he was any less of a monster and an anomaly than everyone present, he still stood at a peak of his own where almost no one could compare, a lonely summit carved out by blood, hardship, and relentless self-discipline, a height that could not be measured simply by victory or defeat.

Kingsley, seeing that Anthony didn’t reply, simply nodded his head as he didn’t speak anymore, choosing instead to focus inward, steadying his breath and calming the faint excitement thrumming within his chest.

”Since I’m in a good mood, I will help you train the Martial Rhythm for a few minutes, I will fight without using the Martial Rhythm, I will slow my speed to a level just a tad bit above what you are supposed to react to without Martial Rhythm, we will train for exactly four minutes, for the first two minutes, I will be on the offensive while you simply evade, and the last two minutes, the roles will reverse,” Anthony spoke yet again, he paused for a moment, then continued, ”how much insight you gain within that four minutes is all up to you, Kingsley,” his smile remained ever so present, light yet filled with quiet confidence.

Kingsley nodded and immediately entered a stance, then the next moment, his perception of everything around him seemed to shift as Martial Rhythm flowed within his body. They didn’t need a timer, people of their level could always sense every passing second if they wanted, their minds sharp enough to count time unconsciously with flawless precision.

With a smile, Anthony moved a foot as he took a step, but before the sole of his foot could even touch the earth below, he was gone, reality seemed to blink and lose track of him. He appeared before Kingsley as though he had always been there and hadn’t just arrived, like a scene edited mid-frame without warning.

Normally, Kingsley shouldn’t even have been able to keep up, but he saw the attack coming, he felt the world react to Anthony’s attack, before Anthony seemed to have completed the attack he had already read that it was a Brazilian kick aimed at his forehead, the trajectory, angle, and force all becoming clear as though written out for him in advance.

With Martial Rhythm cloaking his feet, he simply took a step to the side with minimal effort, movement, and breath as he dodged with a fluidity he never thought possible, his body light and unbound, as though gravity itself had loosened its hold on him.

Anthony’s attack missed, sundering the air and space of the place he had been, the wind splitting apart with a violent crack. But Anthony didn’t stop, the foot that was planted on the earth shifted as he adjusted his position, then the leg that was raised and midair which he had just used to attack earlier immediately recalibrated, flowing into another attack with frightening rhythm, seamless and continuous like water cascading downhill.

Kingsley saw it yet again, he saw it all, he felt it all, he seemed one with the world, the perfection he thought he had attained previously now seemed like a joke as a whole new door of endless possibility opened right before his very eyes. With that, he matched Anthony’s breathing, synching his with his, he stepped back, his footsteps silent, his body flow immaculate and graceful, every motion trimmed of excess and waste.

With that, they entered a flow, Anthony attacked and he dodged without even parrying or blocking. Kingsley moved as though he was dancing to an unknown tune, his foot gliding against the earth below as though Anthony was the bard that played the rhythm to whatever he was dancing to, each strike becoming a note and each evasion becoming a step in an invisible choreography.

Kingsley felt heavenly yet again, he felt complete, he felt whole, as though the fractures within him had quietly sealed shut without him noticing.

The first two-minute timer came to an end, meaning it was now his time to attack, and with that, he surged forward in a calm motion, no blur, no afterimage, no wind distortion, everything remained calm and in rhythm. His fist tore forward as though he was too lazy to punch, but anyone with enhanced senses would feel the lethal force behind such a lazy attack, compressed and dense like a coiled spring waiting to explode.

As his fist moved toward Anthony’s gut, Anthony moved, he mirrored Kingsley’s own dance of evasion from earlier even without using Martial Rhythm. But the moment he moved, Kingsley had read his muscle reaction, predicted his evasion, then attacked yet again. But just as much as he read Anthony, Anthony still dodged with ridiculous ease as he remained the master in the exchange, making it known that even with Martial Rhythm, Kingsley would remain the student, the gap between them still vast and undeniable.

And so, two silent motions filled the separate plane as these two entered a martial dimension of their own where only they could see, understand, and feel. They smiled at one another like lovers on a picnic date as they simply forgot about the world beyond this moment, their movements intertwining, clashing, and separating with effortless harmony, as though the battlefield itself had transformed into nothing more than a quiet stage for their shared dance.