After the morning training session, Atticus headed back to his room to freshen up. He took his bath, and absorbed mana for a while.
Several hours later, Atticus made his way to the cafeteria for a meal.
The cafeteria was one of the few places where children from different years mingled, and Atticus had a particular person in mind he hoped to run into—Ember.
He couldn’t help but feel concerned about her well-being.
‘Knowing Ember, she probably won’t have any friends,’ he thought to himself as he navigated through the bustling cafeteria.
The noise of conversations and the clattering of dishes filled the air.
After searching for a few seconds, he finally saw Ember, walking away from a group of boys.
He furrowed his brow and strained his ears to catch fragments of their conversation.
Among their words, one phrase shattered his focus and left his mind reeling – “orphaned bastard.”
As soon as Atticus heard that, he didn’t know how, but his legs started moving towards them.
Atticus approached the boy from behind, his voice dripping with chilling intensity as he demanded, “What did you just say?”
Atticus reverse scale had always been his family. Although he wasn’t one to act without thinking, when it comes to his family, he just flips.
Startled by the unexpected presence behind him, the boy turned, his expression quickly morphing to disdain. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.
Atticus’s voice remained as cold as ice as he repeated his question,
“I said, what did you just say?”
Each step he took brought him closer to the boy.
As the situation unfolded, people around them began to take notice and started observing the interaction.
Ember, who was also on her way to leave, turned her attention to the scene and was surprised to see Atticus.
‘Did he hear them insulting me?’ she worriedly thought.
The boy realized who Atticus was talking about and smirked,
“Oh, you mean that orph-”
His sentence was abruptly cut short as Atticus’s fist connected with his face.
The impact sent the boy hurtling through the air, his body crashing onto a nearby table in a jarring collision.
The cafeteria fell momentarily silent, a collective gasp hanging in the air as Atticus’s action reverberated through the room.
“What are you doing!?” one of the boy’s companions demanded.
As he moved to attack Atticus, his other friend immediately held him back, “You idiot, he’s a first year! Do you want to get punished?”
Immediately, a warning from his device sounded:
[Warning! Attacking lower years is against the rules. Punishment will be severe if broken.]
Hearing the word “punishment,” he calmed down and stepped back.
Atticus didn’t even spare them a glance; he kept walking towards the boy he had punched.
As he got closer, his voice cold, “She never met her mother. The world took away her father when she was starting to be happy.”
Atticus’s voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it carried enough weight to be heard by everyone watching.
He continued, “Even after all these things happened, she didn’t give up and kept training every day to get stronger. And yet you dared!”
He reached his destination, standing over the boy who was lying face up, still registering the shock of what had just transpired.
Atticus loomed over him and delivered another punch, his knuckles connecting with the boy’s face.
The impact was brutal, crushing his cheekbones, yet Atticus didn’t relent; he kept delivering punch after punch, his body being able to take it.
The bodies of those who had awakened underwent a qualitative change, becoming more resilient and able to endure significantly more damage without the threat of death.
This was a boon for those who enjoyed inflicting pain and a curse for those on the receiving end. What could be a life-threatening injury for a normal human would be simply an injury to the awakened.
The entire hall had fallen into an eerie silence, the only audible sound being the repetitive thuds of Atticus’s fists connecting with the boy’s face.
The onlookers were completely shocked by what they were witnessing. They were shocked beyond belief – a first-year beating a second-year? It was unheard of.
There was a reason why higher years weren’t allowed to attack lower years, and this was because they were always more powerful than them.
The higher years all had a year or two advantage over the lower years. A year might seem insignificant, but in the Raven camp, it meant a lot of time.
The mana density in the camp was much much higher than outside. They were provided with ample training facilities with state of the art equipments. Also, the intense competition and the number of fights happening in the camp enables each of them to gain load of fighting experience.
With all of these factors combined, one year was enough for someone to go from zero to hero. That was why what Atticus was doing was so unbelievable.
The relentless barrage continued for a few more seconds until a voice finally pierced through the hushed atmosphere, cutting through the tension,
“Stop.”
Ember experienced a rush of unexpected emotions—surprise, gratitude, and a touch of disbelief.
It was a first for her, having someone step in to defend her.
She was used to his taunts and harassment, but ignored it as she couldn’t really do anything to him because he was a second year. He had been hired specifically to harrass her, but his actions had never escalated beyond words.
Ember didn’t really care about anything other than getting stronger, that was why she ignored it.
Atticus halted his barrage of punches upon hearing Ember’s voice, his anger momentarily subsiding.
He rose to his feet and made his way to her, pulling her away from the scene and out of the cafeteria.
After walking for a while, Atticus stopped in a quiet place and glanced at Ember, who hadn’t ceased staring at him.
Ember’s appearance remained nearly unchanged, her face still a striking epitome of doll-like beauty, her hair elegantly tied into a ponytail, and her expression maintaining its characteristic aloofness.
“Why are you taking that bullshit, Ember?” Atticus questioned.
Ember looked at him, her expression was stoic but she was feeling a mix of surprise and gratitude inwardly. “Used to it. Doesn’t matter,” she responded
Atticus frowned, clearly not satisfied with her response. “It does matter. No one should treat you like that.”
She glanced away, clenching her hand, her gaze distant. “I need to get stronger.”
“Stronger? What does that have to do with this?” Atticus pressed.
Ember’s eyes met his again, a determined glint in her gaze. “Revenge.”
Atticus sighed, understanding her perspective. “Ember, if you let pests like these go unchecked, they’ll only distract you from your goals. It’s better to crush them from the beginning so they won’t have a chance to stand up again.”
He had no plan to dissuade her from seeking revenge; that would be hypocritical. Atticus had always followed the mantra ‘an eye for an eye’ and had no intention of stopping now or asking Ember to do otherwise. But he believed that she shouldn’t ignore everything else because of it.
Ember nodded, her expression softening slightly.
He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes,
“And i keep saying this, you’re never alone, Ember. Don’t forget that.”
“Thank you.” she muttered with a small smile.
She had always regarded Atticus as a sort of older brother figure, despite her being older in age.
His mature demeanor and ability to easily solve any problem with a level head had earned her respect and trust over time.
After that, they chatted briefly before heading to their respective dorms to continue their training.
…
In an office, a man stood waiting for Rowan to finish watching a video footage.
After a few moments, he inquired, “What are your instructions?”
“He can already take on second-years easily. They’ve given birth to another monster,” Rowan stated with a cold tone.
“Who was the first in the morning training?” Rowan asked further.
“He was, sir.”
“Increase the intensity of Aurora’s training,” Rowan ordered, causing some concern to show on the man’s face.
“But she’s already stru-” Before he could finish, Rowan’s aura suddenly bore down on him.
“Do as I say, Finn!” Rowan’s voice resounded with authority.
“Yes, sir,” Finn replied, bowing and showing a hint of unease.
“As for him, he hasn’t broken any rules, so just keep an eye on him for now.”
He paused for a moment, contemplating something, and then continued, “It’s about time ‘he’ earned his keep. Use him,” Rowan instructed.
“As you wish,” Finn gave a knowing look and acknowledged before leaving the office.
***
Hi 👋 . I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, while giving golden tickets might not be possible, I would truly appreciate powerstones or comments. They’ll motivate me and also help this story reach more readers. Thank you.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
