Shen Wulong was still standing atop the car. Somewhat surprised, he touched the back of his head. His ponytail was gone.
In that instant of exchange, he had seen through Luke’s movement and calmly dipped his body, evading the lightning-fast slash meant to take his head. But as he dropped at high speed, his hair had hung suspended for a fraction of a second—and Luke had cut it off.
What surprised him was not the destruction of his hairstyle. He had originally intended to raise a finger and use the power of "logic" to catch Luke’s blade barehanded. Yet as that slash approached, his instincts had changed his tactics, making him dodge instead.
"Interesting. The last person who managed to injure me was Long Yi, I suppose..."
Shen Wulong spoke nostalgically, touching his shoulder as though savoring the memory of that gunshot from eighty years ago.
Luke tilted his head and bared a row of gleaming white teeth. "Shen Wulong, why did you dodge?"
"Yes. Why did I dodge?"
Shen Wulong himself seemed quite puzzled. Looking at Luke, realization seemed to dawn on him. "Oh. So you are very strong. That makes sense. After all, you were able to kill Xavier."
"What ‘logic’? It’s nothing more than exceptionally refined technique. The people who cannot hurt you simply keep imagining you to be stronger than you are."
Luke sheathed his sword and lowered his stance. "But in my eyes, even your technique isn’t flawless."
"Not bad. You might be the strongest opponent I have encountered in ten thousand years."
At last, Shen Wulong began to take this battle seriously. During the endless passage of time, he had grown bored. Even his desire to split off two other versions of himself had only been an attempt to find an evenly matched opponent.
But would that truly make things less boring?
And why did I want to find an evenly matched opponent in the first place?
"It seems you are still interested in fighting the strong. Unfortunately, time is merciless..."
Luke’s tone was faintly regretful. "It stripped away your humanity. You have forgotten even your original purpose."
In the next instant, he and Shen Wulong moved at the same time.
They met in midair. Purple-black sword light intertwined with fists and kicks. When they landed, their feet shifted, and in the blink of an eye, the battle had moved dozens of meters away. The pressure of the wind they generated bent the blazing flames at the waist, while missed attacks blasted apart cars and buildings.
When they separated again, Prison Demon was stained with blood. Several holes had been torn through Luke’s shirt, revealing muscles marked by Shen Wulong’s fists.
"Shen Wulong! What the hell are you doing!? This isn’t your real strength, is it!?"
Watching from the rooftop, the Devourer could not help roaring. He could not believe what he had just witnessed. This man named Luke was actually able to exchange blows with Shen Wulong without falling behind.
In that brief clash alone, Luke had first severed Shen Wulong’s ponytail, then cut his arm!
"Shut up."
Shen Wulong’s voice was low. He did not look toward the Devourer on the rooftop. Instead, he stared intently at Luke, and a change appeared in those eyes that had always been still as an ancient well.
Like a stone cast into a tranquil pool, ripples spread across the surface. Then those ripples became waves, surging without end.
He felt the blood in his body heat up. Some emotion was rising within him—an emotion he had not felt for more than ten thousand years.
That nameless, swelling emotion made him forget vengeance, forget his agreement with the Devourer. It made him want only to stare at the man before him.
"Oh, I nearly forgot. There’s still an audience member here. Stay in your premium seat and wait to die."
Luke raised his head and glanced at the Devourer. His gaze was cold and calm, making the Devourer feel profoundly insulted.
"Shen Wulong is the strongest! Do you really think you’ll survive today!?"
The Devourer tried to sound fierce, though his voice betrayed him. He had never imagined that Endspace contained a first-tier Arbiter this powerful.
To trade blows with Shen Wulong—didn’t that mean Luke’s combat specialization had already reached Grandmaster level!?
Yet Luke did not offer the Devourer another response. At this moment, Shen Wulong was the only thing left in his sight.
Shen Wulong’s aura was changing. The man now felt even more unfathomable, even more aggressive.
During their first two probing exchanges, Luke had unexpectedly felt that Shen Wulong was not as powerful as he had imagined. He had even felt that if he had gone all out from the very first strike—if he had fought with everything on the line and cut down with his full force—he might have killed Shen Wulong outright.
But he had missed that chance.
That was fine too.
"Raian, you’re not dead yet, are you? Keep an eye on that guy. Don’t let him run."
As Luke spoke, his body tensed and his gaze remained locked on Shen Wulong. He could not reveal a single opening in the battle ahead. Otherwise, the victor would be decided in an instant.
"Hah? Don’t order me around, bastard!! Keep an eye on him? I’m going to tear him apart!"
Raian climbed out of the rubble, his bloodthirsty eyes fixing on the Devourer atop the building.
Luke had no interest in bickering with Raian. His aura locked against Shen Wulong’s, and the two slowly stepped forward, closing in on each other.
While he had been talking with and fighting Shen Wulong, the street had already been cleared. For the next stretch of battle, he could fight without restraint.
Luke did not know what Shen Wulong had been like in the original story, but he was certain that the Shen Wulong before him possessed the physique of an "immortal"—muscular strength even greater than Wakatsuki Takeshi’s.
Those resilient muscles did not merely grant Shen Wulong power. They also gave him extraordinary speed, which was why he had been able to evade Luke’s first slash.
Technique always had its limits. Against Luke’s overwhelmingly powerful blade, if the unarmed Shen Wulong could not evade at high speed, the only outcome awaiting him would be decapitation.
The power of logic was not omnipotent. Without a sufficient physical foundation to support it, what could not be dodged could not be dodged, and what could not be blocked could not be blocked.
After their brief exchange, Luke had to admit that Shen Wulong had not spent ten thousand years alive for nothing. In terms of combat specialization alone, he might have even surpassed Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto from the world of Bleach. It was utterly absurd.
That was the power of time. The Captain-Commander’s combat skill had not been built on talent alone; it was also the result of thousands of years of tempering. Shen Wulong had lived for over ten thousand years, perhaps even longer. To the people of this world, his combat specialization was so powerful that it was impossible to comprehend. Naturally, it became "logic."
Therefore, Luke could foresee that in the original story, no matter how much fighters like Kanoh Agito grew, they could never defeat Shen Wulong. The gap in combat skill created by time was simply too vast.
Luke was likewise suppressed by Shen Wulong in combat specialization. It was different from sparring with Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto. Back then, Luke had occasionally been able to find opportunities to counterattack, and they had exchanged blows on fairly even terms.
But if he and Shen Wulong possessed identical physical attributes, Shen Wulong would probably crush him completely. There would be no surprise in that.
But there were no "what ifs" in this world. The reality was that, in his Shikai state, Luke’s body was stronger than Shen Wulong’s!
As he walked toward Shen Wulong, Luke’s aura surged again.
Purple-black demonic markings spread over his body like vines. His knotted muscles abruptly swelled, bursting his shirt apart. His heart rate shot up to three hundred beats per minute. The world slowed before his eyes, as if limitless strength were pouring into this body.
The intense heat radiating from his body evaporated the sweat on his skin. Crimson steam mingled with the hazy violet mist of Prison Demon, wrapping around him like flowing ribbons.
At this moment, Luke resembled a demon, a god, and an asura all at once.
Secret Technique: Demon God!
Strength and Agility +5!
Luke’s Strength had now reached an astonishing 28, his Agility 27. Repeated medicinal baths had also raised his Constitution by 2 points, bringing it to 25.
This was a burst state without any severe imbalance. It was his own secret technique, created by combining [Fallen Demon], Removal, and [Possessing Spirit]. Not only did it grant a tremendous increase in attributes, it also had remarkable endurance.
At present, he could fight in this state for more than ten minutes. Unlike Fei Wangfang, he would not explode so easily.
Luke’s expression turned feverish as he looked toward Shen Wulong.
You can deflect a thousand pounds with four ounces. But what about ten thousand pounds? A hundred thousand?
You possess the beauty of technique. I possess the beauty of stats.
Come. Let us put an end to this world!
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