MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 609: Judith

Judith sensed it the moment their blades first clashed, her opponent lacked true battle experience. It was subtle, but to a seasoned killer like her, it was unmistakable. In that instant, Judith was certain: this fight would be short.

She would crush the girl, then move on to slaughter the remaining soldiers without delay.

Yet reality refused to obey expectation.

No matter how many tactics she employed, no matter how unpredictably she shifted her assault, the human girl adapted, swiftly and unnervingly.

The moment Judith altered her rhythm, introducing a new pattern of attack, her opponent stumbled... but only once. By the next strike, she had already recalibrated, responding with a precision that defied logic, as if she were peering a heartbeat into the future.

Judith couldn’t comprehend this kind of talent. She didn’t want to believe it, no, she dared not believe it.

She had heard tales of warriors who returned from battles stronger than before, hardened by struggle and sharpened by survival. The legendary Sword Saint himself was famed across the world for such growth, an unmatched genius who rose through adversity, fight after fight.

But this human girl... she was no Sword Saint. She bore no lineage to him. And even the Sword Saint had never evolved during battle, only after it.

Yet here, before Judith’s very eyes, her opponent shattered that precedent. She was doing the impossible, unfolding into something greater with every breath, every step, every clash of steel.

Judith’s attacks intensified, her broadsword a blur as she swung it a thousand times in a single breath. Her Sword Intent surged outward in pulsing waves, manifesting into crescent-shaped blades of lethal force. They descended upon the inexperienced girl like a storm of death, poised to reduce her to minced flesh in an instant.

But Vega was ready.

Her body surged with heat, blood boiling with each movement, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. For nine long years since her awakening, she had done nothing but train endlessly, isolated from real combat against her own will.

Battle experience? She had none.

Those she encountered never stood a chance. Her overwhelming mana rank allowed her to crush opponents with ease, not through strategy, but through sheer presence. It wasn’t a challenge. It wasn’t even fun.

When she entered Military Base Alpha-9, she was thrilled to finally be tested. The screening was brutal, but she passed it effortlessly and threw herself into the rigorous training that followed. She loved every second of it.

But the excitement was short-lived.

Her first mission was a breeze. The second one, a bore. With her mana alone, she could obliterate any target assigned under the Corporal military rank, sometimes with a glance, sometimes with a sigh. No opponent ever lasted long enough to truly fight.

But now... now, those limitations no longer bound her. No restrictions. No holding back. She would push her speed and strength as far as her body, and soul, could go.

Her eyes shimmered with a joy that bordered on obsession, a wild light dancing in her irises. Her broadsword rose, and in that moment, her Sword Intent erupted, no longer restrained, now raging like a storm long held at bay.

With a single, fluid swing, lotuses forged from pure Sword Intent bloomed into reality. They burst forth, elegant and deadly, surging toward the incoming crescent-shaped strikes.

Then — impact.

Reality shattered.

Their wills collided and swallowed the battlefield whole. The air screamed as though it were being tortured, the sky drowned in a roaring dust storm that spiraled into the heavens.

Sword marks carved through the desert floor, gouging trenches deep enough to change the very landscape. Space itself groaned beneath the weight of their clash, warping as if on the verge of collapse.

Within the swirling chaos of dust and debris, Vega stood, her hand trembling ever so slightly, as though intoxicated by the high of a battle she had never truly known. She could feel herself improving in real time, every breath, every heartbeat, every nerve awakened.

And she was loving it.

Lost for a moment in the unfamiliar ecstasy of combat, her glowing purple eyes pierced through the haze. Through the whirling sand, she saw, her instincts flaring like a spark meeting dry tinder.

Her head snapped to the side.

Cutting through the veil of dust was Judith, her broadsword cleaving the air like scissors through silk, aimed with ruthless precision at Vega’s neck.

But Vega moved on instinct.

In a fluid blur, she raised the flat of her blade, her entire motion shifting seamlessly into a defensive form. No wasted effort. No hesitation.

Judith’s strike crashed into the block, and a thunderous shockwave erupted, a deafening storm of metal clashing against metal, echoing like a cry of war across the battlefield. The sound wasn’t a collision, it was a symphony of violence, of steel meeting steel in the language of gods.

The two women, no, goddesses, locked eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them. In the next instant, their forms vanished, blurring into streaks of motion that tore through the battlefield like divine phantoms. In that moment, nothing else existed. No war. No world. Only them.

Judith’s broadsword arced toward Vega’s side with terrifying speed, but Vega was already in motion. She didn’t block. She didn’t brace. Her footwork flowed like water, her shoulder, waist, and body moving in perfect harmony, slipping past the edge of death with effortless grace. But she didn’t just evade, her body twisted mid-motion, and her broadsword hissed toward Judith’s throat with merciless precision.

Judith responded without a flicker of panic. One step back, a subtle bend of her spine, and Vega’s blade sliced clean through the space her neck had just occupied.

But the attack didn’t end there.

Before Judith could fully regain her footing, Vega pressed forward, launching a follow-up strike aimed at her left shoulder, fast, sharp, unrelenting.

Yet Judith’s battle experience stretched across centuries. She had danced through countless wars, and it showed. Her reaction was instantaneous. She sidestepped with fluid mastery, her motion so smooth it was as though she had foreseen the attack before it began.

But Judith had not come to dance defensively, she was here to kill. Her blade lashed out with vicious intent, snaking toward Vega’s left breast as if to sever it clean from her chest.

Vega reacted on instinct, her broadsword sweeping up to parry, only to find nothing but air.

Judith’s sword was no longer where it had seemed.

A feint.

With cruel precision, the tip of Judith’s broadsword redirected mid-motion, now thrusting toward Vega’s throat, swift, deliberate, final. It was a strike meant to end the battle, to silence her opponent with one decisive blow.

To Judith, this was checkmate.

Vega, talented as she was, lacked the battlefield experience to read such an advanced maneuver, or so Judith believed.

In her mind, the battle was already over. Victory was hers. An easy one at that.

But her blade met only empty space.

Vega had vanished.

Judith’s eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard. Before she could process the shift, her soul screamed within her undead shell. Instincts flared. Her gaze snapped to the side, just in time to see a foot, wreathed in raging Sword Intent, hurtling toward her head with world-ending force and blitzing speed.

Her reflexes ignited. She raised an arm, coating it in thick Intent just in time to block the blow.

The moment of impact shattered the space between them. Wind screamed, and the very air ruptured as a thunderous explosion erupted outward, sending shockwaves across the desert.

Judith’s body was flung backward like a ragdoll caught in a storm. Her arm, what was left of it, had been reduced to mangled flesh. If not for the Intent shielding it, the limb would’ve been obliterated entirely.

But she was a zombie. Pain was a forgotten concept to her. Her expression remained unreadable as she twisted midair, reorienting herself. She landed hard against the sand, her feet digging deep trenches as she skidded across the desert, forced to fight against her own momentum.

When she finally came to a stop, her eyes snapped forward.

There she was.

The same human girl.

Calm smile. Unshaken. Purple eyes glowing with serenity and silent confidence.