Atticus’s form leaned forward abruptly, as though he was descending towards the ground. Just as it appeared he might collide face-first with the floor, Atticus moved.
The ground beneath him immediately fractured, creating a miniature crater, as he sliced through the forest with unparalleled speed.
Despite his utterly battered and bloodied body, it would have been a miracle for Atticus to walk, but for him to still be able to achieve such a high speed in his current state…
Zekaron’s heart beat wildly, an intense grin appearing on his face. He had been completely wrong about Atticus. Considering his sneak attack when he had been introducing himself, he had taken him for a coward.
But Zekaron could see that intense gaze; he knew very well what it was because he had seen it hundreds of times before, with him being the one to make the expression a majority of the times.
That was a warrior’s stare. A stare one would give when they had absolutely no intention of giving up on the fight.
It was a look he knew all too well, a look he had shown so many times that it became his title.
“I am Zekaron the unyielding! Come, warrior! I will battle you to the death!” Zekaron thundered, the honor in his words palpable.
Each of his bone-like scythes suddenly became sharper as he instantly got into a stance, his gaze becoming serious.
Alas, Zekaron would have never expected what happened next to happen.
He had made the foolish mistake of thinking that Atticus was or would ever be an ‘honorable’ warrior.
It was very obvious that he was giving Atticus the honor of attacking first, a mistake he was going to pay dearly for.
Atticus’s bloodied figure appeared in front of Zekaron like a phantom, noting the intense grin on his face.
His arm suddenly tensed, his hand flicking as he threw a staggering amount of sand at Zekaron’s eyes, instantly covering his vision.
Zekaron’s shock was palpable. Sand?
There was nothing more dishonorable than what Atticus had just done! But Zekaron reeled in his anger. He knew he was currently in battle, and despite the fact that his opponent was weak, a slight amount of distraction was lethal.
Zekaron’s aura suddenly surged outwards, its force sending the forms of the sand away from him.
His seething gaze instantly turned towards his side where Atticus had suddenly appeared, only to meet the form of an intense crimson liquid covering his vision.
Zekaron only had the time to see the squeezed mouth of Atticus when the blood splattered on his face.
Zekaron felt a raging storm welling up within him, an intense amount of anger.
Part of it was directed at himself for being so naive to believe Atticus was a true warrior, and the other part was directed at the culprit himself.
But Zekaron didn’t have the chance to vent; he didn’t even have the chance to clear his vision. He had been distracted by his anger for a split second, a second Atticus had no chance of missing.
Atticus’s piercing blue eyes suddenly took on a tint of red in their irises. His eyes glowed as his form was instantly covered from head to toe in a red translucent glow.
Atticus felt his body becoming freer and lighter, his every movement becoming more effortless.
The sharp pain that had afflicted him earlier had been due to him overusing his perception, especially in his weakened state. But now that he had empowered himself with the mana in the atmosphere, Atticus could instantly feel the pain becoming bearable.
The next sequence of events happened instantaneously.
Atticus’s hips swung, his legs flexed, his toes almost digging through his shoes to leave ten indents on the forest floor beneath his feet.
His speed exploded, a mana-made crimson sword appearing inches away from Zekaron’s head.
His actions had been too sudden, too fast.
“How—”
Zekaron only had the chance to utter one word before his head was sent flying into the skies, a fountain of blood raining down and coating Atticus.
Atticus staggered forward, his legs buckling as they failed to hold him up.
The translucent red glow covering his body was instantly snuffed out as he sunk onto both knees, laying down on the ground as he continually muttered the same mantra over and over again.
“For my family and for revenge,”
“For my family and for revenge,”
Atticus even went as far as to replay the scenes of himself getting killed in his home back on Earth, and the scene of himself being completely powerless against Alvis and Ronad back at the Raven camp.
Despite the intense headache that was currently hammering his head, Atticus still kept it up.
Currently, as soon as he had cut off the head of the alien, Atticus was immediately assaulted with massive amounts of demotivation.
He currently felt like lying down on the ground and allowing himself to bleed to death, ending it all. It was a terrible feeling, one that he hated to his core.
Atticus continuously repeated this mantra, replaying the scene in his head constantly while taking in deep and haggard breaths.
His whole body was hurting greatly, his wounds still bleeding out, but he was completely focused on regaining his sanity.
After exactly two minutes, Atticus took in a deep inhale, exhaling in the next instance, and then he forced himself to stand up.
His demotivated state was far from gone; in fact, he was questioning his every action currently, but Atticus knew that he had to move.
‘I have to get to Aurora,’
Atticus staggered a bit as he stood up, trying to find his balance. He was still insanely dizzy because of the blood loss.
He gazed around his form, noting the staggering amounts of cuts on his body.
‘I have to find a way to heal this; he should have something,’
Atticus turned his gaze towards the body of the alien he had just killed and started walking towards it. Its head was just a few meters away, with an expression of shock and anger.
Reaching it, he rummaged through the corpse, finding what he was searching for after a few seconds.
