And as that emotion was born, the elements merged.
Fire twisted into Water.
Water bled into Air.
Air solidified into Earth.
Earth combusted into Fire again.
A perfect loop. A cycle. A core.
And from that cycle… something new was birthed.
A force that had no name.
An energy that could not be classified.
Not elemental. Not spiritual. Not mana. Not will.
Just…
The dark crimson pillar contracted, folding in on itself like a collapsing star. Its energy coiled, twisted, and converged into the figure standing at its heart, and the world changed around him.
Atticus.
But it no longer felt like Atticus.
His form stood still, unchanged in flesh, but utterly unrecognizable in presence. freewёbnoνel.com
His body radiated a dark crimson aura laced with molten gold and voidsilver streaks, flickering like wildfire, like flowing magma, like a storm made solid. His dark crimson cloak snapped violently behind him, carried by gales that no one else could feel.
But it wasn’t his appearance that made Xal’zereth’s eyes narrow into pinpricks, nor the soundless tremor coursing beneath his feet.
It was the aura. The power. The presence.
"…An anomaly," Xal’zereth said again, as though that would somehow stabilize the shifting reality around him.
The air bent around Atticus like it feared him.
The earth resonated, as if the very planet couldn’t bear his existence.
The flames nearby flickered once, then died, submitting to a superior flame.
Water in the distance trembled, rose into the air like prayerful hands… then evaporated into nothingness under the pressure.
Winds spiraled into cyclones, then scattered.
Even the clouds above coiled, forming a colossal vortex, as if the sky itself was being devoured by his presence.
The hearts of every being on the battlefield nearly burst from their ribcages.
The sheer power this boy was radiating…
The apexes’ gazes shook, an intense pressure sinking into their bones. An unfamiliar emotion appeared in their hearts, not fear, not awe, but a confusing, almost desperate disbelief.
They couldn’t understand it.
They had been reincarnated into Eldoralth together.
They had been given the same privileges as him.
And they had even lived longer in this world than Atticus.
And yet… why did it seem as though he stood on another plane entirely?
Zenon’s fist cracked under his own pressure, blood dripping freely to the ground. His eyes shone like miniature suns, flickering with nothing but exhilaration. His expression had contorted, not in pain, but in rapture.
He had thought it. He had said it.
This boy, this fucking boy had a knack for pulling the impossible.
To think he would bear witness to such raw greatness. His heartbeat thundered like war drums in his ears.
But among them all, one expression was unlike the others.
Carius Valarius.
His face twisted into something foreign to him, pure disbelief.
He clenched his sword tightly, his mind racing, threads of calculation weaving at impossible speed.
’He shouldn’t be able to beat the Zorvan… But… just in case… I need contingencies.’
His gaze drifted toward the artifact strapped at his waist. ’I’ll use it at any sight of danger.’
Xal’zereth stared at the force of nature that was in front of him.
Atticus didn’t seem to be in a hurry. He hovered in the air, gaze resting not on the paragons, not even on Xal’zereth… but on nothing, as though he was seeing a world far beyond theirs.
The Zorvan wasn’t offended. He was intrigued.
Anomalies could be a threat. But they were also opportunities to understand new data. New power. He would control it. Dissect it. Archive it.
"…Kill him."
Eight paragons surged.
Eight eruptions of devastating power.
Eight titans of destruction tearing across the sky, their momentum shaking the heavens as they descended like calamities.
Arts, artifacts, physical assaults, everything aimed to rip Atticus apart bit by bit.
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