The following day, Atticus found himself sitting on his bed, deep in meditation. He decided to change his approach and started to tune in to the surrounding mana that filled the air.
As he absorbed the mana, he could feel it flowing through him like a tranquil waterfall, connecting him to the very essence of the world. With this newfound connection, Atticus began to manipulate the mana, directing it towards his mana core. After some time, he opened his eyes and let out a gentle sigh.
‘Nothing’s changed. I’ve been training like this for years now, but I don’t know anything about the
power system of this world,’ Atticus pondered.
‘Anastasia did say she’d allow me to start training when I turned six. I can only continue absorbing mana for now.’
Atticus had brought up the idea of learning how to fight after dinner the day before. Anastasia was quick to shut it down, saying he was too young. But Atticus wasn’t ready to give up just yet – he pulled out his secret weapon: his cute puppy face.
Despite his best efforts, Anastasia remained firm in her decision. It wasn’t until Freya and Avalon stepped in, backing up Atticus, that Anastasia finally caved and agreed to let him start training when he turned six.
‘Having an protective mother while being a reincarnated adult is the true curse of this world, damn!’ Atticus uttered, annoyed. ‘You would think in a world riddled with wars and deaths, parents would want their children to learn how to fight and defend themselves early. I have to be patient, sigh. I’ll keep absorbing mana for now and then next year, I’ll focus on understanding this world’s power system and learning how to fight!’
***
Boman walked the hallway towards Avalon’s training room. His strides were quick and resolute, his long legs propelling him forward.
The door to the training room had a shiny, metallic finish that reflected the soft light, combining a sleek design with advanced technology.
As he approached, the sensors within the door detected his presence. With a quiet hum, the door started to slide open, unveiling Avalon deep in his training, surrounded by flowing lava whilst seated in a cross-legged position.
Boman cleared his throat, calling his attention.
“Master Avalon,” he began, his tone tinged with sadness. “There is bad news.”
Avalon opened his eyes, surprised to see Boman here. ‘It must be pretty serious, he never
disturbs me when I’m training’.
He disabled the stimulation and allowed Boman to approach him.
“What is it?” Avalon’s voice was low and controlled, but the tension vibrated thick through the air.
Boman swallowed nervously before delivering the devastating news. “Master Ariel… he has
been killed.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning. As he broke the news about Ariel’s unexpected death, it felt like the entire world around Avalon underwent a strange transformation, turning into a surreal scene.
The noises of the busy mansion and the distant buzz of activity slowly faded into a soft symphony, leaving behind nothing but a haunting silence.
Avalon’s gaze locked onto Boman’s lips as they moved, shaping the words that had shattered
his reality. But despite the motion, the words themselves seemed to dissolve before they
reached his ears.
A numbness settled over him, a shroud of disbelief that shielded him from the full impact of the news.
Sensing the disconnect, Boman’s voice trailed off into silence. His concerned gaze met Avalon’s
distant eyes, recognizing the shock that overwhelmed him. He took a step back, allowing the space for Avalon to process the devastating news.
Time seemed to stretch as Avalon’s mind grappled with the enormity of the loss. Images of
Ariel, his brother, his confidant, flashed through his mind. Laughter shared, battles fought
side by side, and now… a void that would never be filled again.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Avalon managed to speak amidst the fog of numbness that enveloped his senses. It was a faint whisper, his own voice, fragmented and distant.
“Ariel… gone?” The sound of his own voice seemed to shatter the illusion, allowing reality to seep back in. The world regained its sound, the mansion’s life resuming its rhythm.
Boman’s concerned eyes met Avalon’s. His voice, when it came, was gentle, in alignment with the fragility of the moment. “Yes.”
Avalon’s chest tightened, a mix of grief, anger, and disbelief welling up within him. He drew in a
deep, shuddering breath, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“How…?” His voice wavered, betraying the emotions he struggled to contain.
“They left no trace, but we suspect the Obsidian Order.” Boman answered.
Avalon’s jaw tightened, a fierce anger replacing the initial shock. His hands began to shake as if they had a will of their own.
“The Obsidian Order,” he repeated, his voice now edged with resolve. “They will pay for this.”
“Find them,” Avalon’s voice was like steel, as he commanded. “Use every resource at our disposal. Lock down the entire human domain if you must. I want the bastards located.”
Boman nodded with resolve. “Yes, Master Avalon. We will leave no stone unturned.”
Avalon’s aura pulsed once more, the air charged with an almost palpable tension.
“Make sure of it.”
As Boman hastily retreated to carry out his orders, Avalon’s gaze remained fixed on the wall in front of him, overcome with grief and pain, once again fading away into thoughts.
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