MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 407: HOLOCAUST

Anthony stood motionless, his gaze sharp, his expression blank, as his mind churned through the possibilities.

The world around him seemed to bend, alive with a twisted sense of purpose, and his thoughts sharpened to a single conclusion.

Emotions.

His eyes flicked to Reynold, whose earlier frustration had now transformed into guilt, and to Dalen, who mirrored the same internal conflict.

The terrain had shifted once before when their emotions had spiked, now it seemed the world itself was responding again.

"This place is reacting to your emotions"

Anthony stated, his voice calm and level, though heavy with urgency.

"Try to keep them in check"

But his words hung in the air like a distant echo. None of his team moved.

They didn't nod.

They didn't speak.

They didn't need to.

They simply stared ahead, locked in place, their focus fixed entirely on the monstrosities before them.

With a guttural roar, the abominations surged forward, their twisted limbs and jagged claws crashing into the cracked bridges beneath them.

The sound of their unnatural movements reverberated through the air, a cacophony of violence and chaos.

They moved in perfect sync, a swarm of savage destruction, their grotesque bodies barreling toward the team with terrifying intent.

But in the face of such overwhelming force, the team did not falter.

In the blink of an eye, Kingsley, who had been standing quietly beside Anthony, vanished from sight.

He reappeared in the center of the chaos, his body a blur of motion.

Without hesitation, his fist rose, muscles coiling like tightly wound cables beneath his skin, every fiber of his being tensing with controlled power.

He struck with devastating force, the impact so precise and calculated that it seemed almost effortless.

The force of the punch rippled through the air, a shockwave of raw power that struck the very core of the abominations.

Their guttural roars, once so deafening and relentless, abruptly ceased.

The world fell into a profound silence.

Then the silence shattered with a violent, detonating force.

In an instant, every abomination within a kilometer radius erupted in a horrifying explosion, their twisted forms disintegrating into crimson mist.

The air became thick with the sickening spray of blood and viscera, their organs and innards painting the ground, the walls, and the very sky above them in grotesque, splattered hues.

The force of the explosions rippled outward, shaking the very foundations of the floating landmass.

The stench of death hung heavily in the air, mingling with the thick, oppressive atmosphere that now pulsed with the remnants of that brutal destruction.

With a single, fluid step, Kingsley blurred forward once again, his movements so fast that the air seemed to crack under the force of his speed.

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His hand shot out like a vice, grabbing the jagged jaw of another abomination with terrifying precision.

Without a moment's hesitation, he retracted his arm, then shot it forward once more, the abomination's head still gripped in his hand.

He slammed it into the skull of another creature with brutal force.

The impact was immediate.

Both heads exploded on contact, their shattered remains splattering across the landscape like broken glass.

But Kingsley wasn't finished.

His expression remained as cold and impassive as ever.

Without a flicker of emotion, his form blurred out of existence once more, leaving only the faintest trace of motion behind.

In an instant, his knee collided with the side of another abomination.

The force was so immense that the creature was sent flying backward like a ragdoll, its body spiraling through the air, colliding with the other monstrosities in its path.

Each impact was like a strike of lightning, devastating and unrelenting, until, one by one, the abominations were obliterated.

A monstrous claw slashed through the air from behind, its jagged, sharpened nails mere inches away from tearing into Kingsley's skull.

But Kingsley didn't even flinch.

Without a single shift in his expression, he twisted his head slightly to the side, effortlessly dodging the attack behind him.

His left hand struck like a viper, quick, precise, and without hesitation.

In a smooth, fluid motion, he caught the wrist of the abomination mid-swing, gripping it with terrifying strength.

Before the creature could react, Kingsley lifted it from behind, the monster's arm wrenching at an unnatural angle as he slammed it into the ground with a force that shook the very air.

The impact sent a shockwave through the earth, causing the landmass beneath them to tremble.

The monster let out a guttural, pained roar as the force of the slam reverberated through its body, yet it couldn't move.

Kingsley's grip on its wrist remained tight, his eyes never leaving the carnage before him.

The abomination thrashed, its other limbs clawing at the ground in a futile attempt to rise.

But it couldn't escape.

Kingsley held it there, his presence a constant, unrelenting force.

Abominations surged from all sides, claws slashing, fangs bared, moving in a deadly, coordinated attack.

But Kingsley was unbothered.

To him, their movements were not even worth the term 'slow'.

In his eyes, they were little more than insects.

He didn't flinch, didn't hesitate.

His body moved in a fluid, effortless motion.

A limb.

A leg.

Time seemed to stretch and warp as his foot lifted, hovering in the air for an eternal moment, as if the world itself had slowed to acknowledge his presence.

Then, with a brutal finality, his foot crashed down.

The force of his stomp obliterated the skull of the abomination beneath him, its head exploding like an overripe balloon, chunks of bone and brain matter splattering across the ground.

But Kingsley didn't stop.

His foot continued its downward arc, landing with a thunderous impact upon the earth.

The moment it hit the ground, a wave of violent wind exploded outward, radiating with the force of a nuclear bomb.

The shockwave tore through the surrounding monstrosities, their bodies torn apart with horrifying ease.

Some were sliced into ribbons, their forms reduced to bloody fragments by the razor-sharp winds.

Others, unable to withstand the sheer power, burst open like eggs smashed against a wall, their innards spilling into the air in grotesque showers of viscera.

As the last of the abominations met their grisly end, a low, resonating crack echoed beneath Kingsley's feet.

At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible, a fissure that began to grow, branching out like the threads of a spiderweb.

The crack spread rapidly, sending shivers through the very earth beneath him.

Then, without warning, the entire floating landmass trembled, its core destabilizing.

The ground buckled, shifting violently beneath them.

Cracks splintered across the surface as the land began to crumble, pieces of stone, boulders, and jagged debris breaking off and plummeting from the sky like deadly rain.

The once solid ground seemed to give way to nothingness, sending a cascade of destruction as the earth fractured and fell into the abyss below.

Kingsley, however, remained unfazed.

His expression was unreadable, his body floating in mid-air as if untouched by the chaos around him.

As Kingsley floated, another monstrous creature emerged from the chaos.

This one had wings, dark and tattered, the air crackling with its unnatural presence.

With a shriek, it shot forward, claws extended, aiming for Kingsley's chest with deadly precision.

But this time, Kingsley did not move.

He didn't dodge, didn't block.

He simply stood there, his expression still unreadable, as the claws made contact with his chest.

The impact was immediate, but it was not the abomination that caused the devastation.

In a violent, almost surreal instant, the monster's claws shattered upon hitting Kingsley's chest, its arm crumpling like a fragile twig snapping under immense pressure.

Bones cracked and muscles tore within the creature's arm, the sound of its destruction drowned out only by the gut wrenching shriek of agony that followed.

Blood sprayed from the now-broken arm, splattering the air in a gruesome shower as the abomination howled in pain, the sheer force of Kingsley's body turning its strike into a devastating failure.

"Boring"

Kingsley muttered, his voice cold, laced with an eerie indifference.

Without a hint of urgency, he raised his hands, but to the monster, whose entire existence was now bound to the brief, excruciating moment, it was anything but slow.

One hand gripped the creature's shoulder with immovable force, the other seizing its neck like a vice.

Then, with a single, brutal motion, Kingsley pulled.

The sound was sickening, flesh tearing, muscles snapping, as if the very connection between head and body were nothing more than tissue paper.

The creature's head was ripped free, the spine following, still tethered to the brain like a grotesque, bloody string.

Blood erupted from the severed neck, gushing out in torrents, staining the air and ground in a crimson spray, the fountain of life draining in seconds.

Kingsley released his grip, and with no further care, the body crumpled to the ground, followed by its head, which hit the earth with a sickening thud.

Then, with a deafening boom, Kingsley surged forward, his form a mere blur in the chaos.

Wherever he passed, blood erupted, painting the air with streaks of crimson.

Each step he took was punctuated by a soft, almost casual thud, the sound of another lifeless body dropping to the ground in his wake.

He didn't need more than a single, swift strike to end a life.

At times, one blow was enough to fell multiple monsters in an instant.

He moved like a wolf in a pen full of chickens, unstoppable, unbothered by the futile attempts of his prey to fight back.

This wasn't a fight.

This wasn't a battle.

It could only be described with one word.

HOLOCAUST.