Anthony, seeing Kingsley's stance, simply smiled, the Martial Rhythm covering his hand vanishing for a moment. He didn't enter any stance like Kingsley; he didn't need to. He was Null Anthony.
With that, he blurred forward with a booming sound, the earth below his feet shattering in a violent blast as sand and stones geysered upward like volcanic spray, cracks spiderwebbing across the ground in every direction as though the land itself had been struck by lightning. He arrived beside Kingsley in a blur, his fist tearing toward Kingsley's temples with the force of a descending sledgehammer, the air screaming and splitting around his knuckles.
Kingsley's reaction was instantaneous, honed by countless battles and tempered by instinct rather than thought, and he moved without hesitation, his elbow snapping outward toward Anthony's chest as he ignored defense entirely and went wholly on the offensive, choosing aggression over caution with absolute conviction.
