Atticus stepped out of the imposing mansion gates, his face still maintaining the same neutral expression.
The campgrounds was still bustling with different division members walking around the camp. None of them were aware of what had happened with Aurora being attacked.
Despite the ambush, Aurora had still been one of the first to reach the camp. And considering the fact that she hadn’t been heavily injured, the normal division members didn’t see her as she made her way to the mansion.
If not for some of the Ravenstein youths already at the mansion who saw her, it was possible that Atticus wouldn’t have even found out in the first place.
As soon as he stepped outside the gates, Atticus suddenly turned his gaze upwards and let out a deep, shuddering breath that lasted a few seconds.
Then he brought his gaze back down and suddenly turned towards the direction of the northern gate.
And then, Atticus ran.
It wasn’t the kind of run that was overwhelmingly fast or filled with so much power that the surrounding area was affected.
In fact, Atticus hadn’t used a shred of mana during this run.
And although the run still looked like a superhuman was running, it looked a bit normal, as though he was trying to… struggle.
Atticus ran with all his strength, reaching the northern gate in a few seconds, scaling it easily.
As soon as he landed on the other side of the wall, Atticus continued his run towards the direction of the forest.
Despite how much Atticus tried to struggle, he wasn’t feeling a thing.
Even though he was currently running at the highest speed his passive strength could reach without actively using mana, Atticus still couldn’t feel any strain.
Atticus needed to feel something, something that would immediately wake him up from his dream. Something intense.
Atticus wanted to feel pain.
After running for a few minutes, Atticus’s gaze locked onto the forest’s imposing trees.
Wach of them stood at a height of at least 50 meters, and their width was nothing less than thick, each with such large width that it would put the width of a large oak tree to shame.
Despite all of the rampages Atticus had gone on in the forest during this past month, he had never once seen any of the forest trees fall.
Although he hadn’t been actively targeting the trees, it was still a very surprising discovery.
The attacks he usually unleashed were filled with mana and thus weren’t weak at the slightest, and yet, all of them still stayed standing.
Given all this information, this was exactly why the result of Atticus’s next action wasn’t surprising.
As soon as Atticus entered the forest, his gaze instantly fixed on the imposing form of a tree as he closed the distance between them.
With a deliberate draw back of his arm, Atticus suddenly unleashed an explosive punch that struck the tree with crazy intensity.
Shockwaves spread across the area as the punch landed, intense vibrations spreading throughout the tree.
The result of the punch was nothing less than brutal, as an intense amount of blood spattered on the tree, with some ending up in the surrounding floor.
Atticus’s right arm immediately became bloodied.
But Atticus didn’t seem to care; in fact, his gaze didn’t even flinch as though he didn’t feel the slightest pain.
Atticus’s left hand moved as he drew it back, instantly unleashing another punch that landed with brutal intensity on the tree.
And then another, and another, and another.
Despite how bloodied both of his hands had become, Atticus didn’t seem to care as he continued punching the tree without utilizing a shred of mana.
Atticus kept on asking the same question in his head as he punched: ‘Why, why, why, why, why?’
It goes without saying that this would be the first time Atticus would lose his composure, and many could only wonder: why was he acting this way?
Some people had attacked Aurora; shouldn’t they be the one experiencing his anger? Why hurt the poor tree?
But currently, there was only one person Atticus was angry at, and it was none other than himself.
He had been going about shouting that he wanted to grow stronger because he wanted to protect his loved ones, but what had happened?
They had attacked Aurora because of him. Because he had failed to keep his enemies in order and had instead endangered Aurora.
And what seemed to fuel his anger was the fact that they had attacked Aurora because of him, and what had he been doing when that was happening? He had been on a date.
BAM!
Atticus slammed his fist on the tree, a macabre of blood and bones spreading around the area.
Atticus was angry.
He was angry at himself for thinking it was better to only show an appropriate amount of power so he would be able to avoid any trouble that might come his way.
This stupid decision right here was the reason all of this was happening.
People only mess with those whom they perceive as their equals or inferiors.
All of this was happening because those fools thought they ever had a chance against him in the first place.
It was his fault.
It was completely his fault for not showing them their place from the very beginning.
Atticus hit the tree with a loud, resounding BAM for the last time before stopping.
His breathing was completely labored, both of his arms bloodied and crushed, but the coldness in Atticus’s eyes could freeze an ocean.
Atticus turned and sat, resting his back on the blood-filled tree.
Then he faced up, closing his eyes and started taking in deep rhythmic breaths, trying to calm the storm raging within him.
After a few seconds, Atticus opened his eyes, staring upwards at the blankets of leaves covering the sun from illuminating the forest.
He had been naive, far too naive. Atticus’s labored breathing started slowing down as he regained his composure little by little.
With a thought, water suddenly wrapped around his bloodied arms and immediately began healing them.
Atticus took in another deep breath as he muttered under his breath, the weight of his words palpable,
“Never again.”
