Atticus struggled to rise, his hands shaking as they pressed against the hard ground. The residual effects of the lightning strike sent sporadic twitches through his muscles, making every attempt to stand a daunting task.
With a muttered exclamation, “Shit,” he managed to voice the frustration and discomfort coursing through him.
“At least give a warning first,” Atticus complained, making sure it was as subtle as possible.
Apart from not being close enough to talk to Magnus that way, the man was a freaking Paragon. He had no intention of disrespecting a man who could erase his existence with a simple exhale.
Despite Atticus knowing that Magnus cared about the family, he had no idea if it was due to familial bonds or simply duty.
But even though Atticus had intended for his complaint to be quiet, Magnus had still heard everything clearly.
‘I’ll have to use my other senses to see,’ Atticus thought, and just as he was about to focus, another bolt of lightning hit him right in the chest, making him go through another round of trembling and curses.
From the both the times he had been hit, Atticus noticed something.
Each lightning bolt that struck him had just enough intensity to hurt him and incapacitate him for a few moments. But each of them wasn’t something an intermediate- rank would be able to handle.
It was obvious that Magnus had an accurate grasp of his strength, Advanced- rank.
Even though he was using his skill ‘conceal’ to appear as an intermediate- rank to everyone and even Magnus, it seemed that Magnus had already figured out that he was way stronger than he appeared.
‘So why isn’t he asking me about it?’ Atticus pondered with great difficulty due to the lightning coursing through his body, making him lose focus everytime.
Atticus had been puzzled by something ever since he woke up after the attack on the Raven camp. Ever since he woke up, he hadn’t been questioned even once about how he had supposedly defeated those expert ranks.
Where had the power come from?
No one asked. Even the person he was sure would demand answers, Anastasia, didn’t ask a thing.
A 10 year old intermediate- rank defeating three expert ranks, and no one questioned him about it? It was baffling to the core, and Atticus had trouble wrapping his head around why.
But seeing Magnus’s actions now, it all kind of made sense. Only Magnus’s command could have that kind of power where even Anastasia dare not ask him despite how bad she wanted to.
Magnus had probably ordered everyone in the family not to question him.
Atticus couldn’t help but recall what Cedric had said about the history of the Ravenstein family and the life weapons.
Each head of the family was well aware of how powerful and mysterious the life weapons were.
It was obvious that Magnus had already suspected that his boosted power came from the life weapon and was trying to prevent people from knowing about the weapons.
Another bolt of lightning sliced through the air, a blinding streak that found its mark with unerring accuracy—Atticus’s chest.
The impact jolted through his entire being, an electric force that shattered his equilibrium. In an instant, Atticus was thrust backward, his body colliding with the ground.
After failing to react and dodge the lightning bolts for the 10th time, Magnus finally commented, “You’re doing this wrongly. You’re not focusing enough,” Magnus said.
Atticus, mentally railing against the constant barrage, silently retorted, ‘That’s because you keep hitting me before I could focus!’
“Stand up,” as soon as Magnus said that, ethereal tendrils of lightning surrounded Atticus, lifting him off the ground.
Atticus could immediately feel the difference between this new lightning Magnus conjured and the one he was striking him with before. This one was completely free of volatility.
It was as if every volatile aspect of lightning was removed, making it docile. ‘This control, it’s remarkable,’ Atticus couldn’t help but admire Magnus’s control over the lightning element.
He could also feel the remnants of lightning that were initially coursing through him getting siphoned away from his body.
After just a second, with all the lightning getting sucked out, Atticus stopped twitching and shaking and was now able to think clearly.
“You’re distracted. You need to clear your mind and focus on one and only one thing: sound,” Magnus instructed.
Atticus nodded. Releasing a deep exhale, he cleared his mind, removing every useless thought away from his head.
Taking a deep breath in, Atticus focused his entire being on only one thing: the sound.
Magnus watched him in silence, choosing to wait a bit before attacking this time around.
Atticus, standing like a statue, silenced every sense but his hearing. He concentrated on the symphony of his own bodily sounds — the steady thud of his heart, the rhythmic flow of blood.
Expanding his awareness, he listened intently to the surrounding environment.
He stood like that for minutes, not moving an inch. Then, slowly but surely, Atticus heard something.
It was subtle at first, very subtle, but listening intently and closely, Atticus was able to identify the source of the sound: it was the sound of a heartbeat. Not his.
The beats were erratic, beating slowly in one second and then very fast in another second. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out who it was. There was only one other person in the room apart from him, Magnus.
From how erratic his heartbeats sounded, Atticus was sure that he was only able to hear it because he allowed it.
Just as he was getting used to this feeling, Atticus suddenly picked up a sound.
It was almost imperceptible, sounding like something thin cutting through the air at fast speeds.
Figuring out what it was immediately, Atticus swiftly darted to the left, narrowly evading the lightning bolt. Just as he was about to rejoice, another bolt suddenly hit him straight on the chest, shocking his entire being.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
