Avalon’s excitement didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, it was so obvious that it was practically impossible for anyone close to him not to see it.
To Sirius, this was top-tier teasing material right there. At this point, he would have normally been making a lot of jokes and teasing Avalon, but Sirius just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
His gaze was fixed on the battle, an eyebrow raised in slight disbelief.
The young boy he had taught on a whim, just because he had nothing to do at that moment—that same boy had not only grown wings but had also soared higher than he could have ever anticipated.
Yes, Sirius expected Atticus to be more of a talent than Avalon, but what the hell was this! An apex-level talent wasn’t something he could have ever imagined. If not because he was seeing it himself, it would have been hard for Sirius to believe.
“So this is why the other families are acting out,” Sirius muttered under his breath, a chuckle escaping his lips. Everything was just starting to make sense now.
No matter how they had thought about it, it just hadn’t made any sense. So what if Atticus and one of their heirs or family members fought? It wasn’t enough for them to outright show hostilities towards the Ravenstein family. At best, they would simply wait for Atticus to leave the academy and send a swarm of assassins his way.
But instead, they had chosen another path. A weird one. Sirius had found it odd, but now that he was seeing Atticus fight, it was understandable.
If the other paragons were aware of even a hint of this talent, then their actions made complete sense.
They were trying to get to Atticus somehow. Some might want to nip the bud, and others might want to crush the Ravenstein family so they could lay claim to Atticus.
The boy might be talented and have boundless potential, but a mana contract was eternal, at least so far. Should they force him to sign a mana contract, he’d have no choice but to fall in line.
Sirius suddenly grinned. Atticus wasn’t his child, but he had long since taken him as such. His son Orion had been stupid enough to want to fall into bad graces with Atticus after the fall of the Raven camp, and Sirius had immediately corrected that.
Many might be against his actions, claiming that he should have supported his son regardless, but that was beyond stupid. Sirius knew Atticus; he wasn’t the type of person who would knowingly or unknowingly search for trouble. It had definitely been Orion’s fault.
A bloodthirsty aura suddenly leaked from Sirius’s figure.
Despite all of this, if any one of them thought the Ravensteins would sit still while they got to one of their own, then they must believe they were in some sort of fairy tale.
There was no doubt about the future now—blood would be shed.
Atticus huffed and puffed, his breathing thoroughly ragged. Despite having hardly happened, his clothes were drenched with sweat.
There was nothing but desolation and destruction around him, and despite his pitiful appearance, both his arms held his katana tightly, his piercing blue eyes fixed directly in front of him where the figure of a yellow glowing Ae’ark stood.
As his appearance suggested, Atticus was thoroughly exhausted.
Despite a short time having just passed, he had battled intensely, utilizing his perception, elements, and art at full strength. Fatigue had piled up constantly until it reached this level.
What made it worse was the katana arts he had utilized at full strength. Atticus had hardly ever utilized it at full strength, and this was for good reasons.
It consumed far more energy than utilizing a normal art more than 20 times. It was that staggering.
Atticus had only ever used it at half or quarter strength and had never needed its full power. But unfortunately, he didn’t have the luxury.
But it would seem that he hadn’t been the only one affected by the strenuous life weapon’s arts.
Ae’ark also breathed raggedly, his chest rising and falling. His initial blinding yellow light had dimmed significantly and he also appeared exhausted, but his battle intent was far from being snuffed out, his spear held tightly in his arm.
Ae’ark’s gaze was fixed on Atticus, looking at him with complete intrigue and a small smile.
“You know,”
Atticus’s gaze sharpened as he heard Ae’ark speak. His voice was still as serene as ever, his aura calm.
“When grandfather told me that I was coming to fight a human and said human was in my generation, any hope for a great battle was lost. Truly, I had most definitely underestimated you.
“You probably don’t care about this, but it doesn’t matter. I apologize.” Ae’ark bowed slightly but his gaze didn’t leave Atticus for even a single second.
Only a fool would make a mistake as basic as never taking your eyes away from your opponent during battle.
“Honestly, I didn’t think there’d be another one of us in the human domain,”
Ae’ark’s words made Atticus’s expression change, his interest completely piqued.
Finally, after battling intensely, Atticus spoke, “Of us?” he instantly inquired.
“Oh look, he speaks,” Ae’ark chuckled, but seeing Atticus simply look at him without saying anything, he smiled.
“The time to talk will come, obviously later. But for now, I would like for this battle to continue,”
Ae’ark’s aura abruptly changed as he slammed the butt of his spear down on the ground.
“Armageddon,”
A palpable and intense crimson wave shot up into the skies from Ae’ark’s figure, the spectrum of his color changing. The dimmed yellow was instantly replaced with a vivid crimson glow.
Ae’ark’s figure seemed to become more bulky, his height increasing slightly. His hair whipped behind him in formless waves, the ground around him cratering.
Atticus watched with narrowed eyes as Ae’ark stood up straight, every trace of fatigue on his figure vanished.
“You have mastered the first and second arts, but it looks like that’s how far you’ve gone. I enjoyed this battle, and in appreciation, I will show you a glimpse of the third,”
Atticus’s gaze narrowed into pinpricks, but that was all he had time to do before Ae’ark moved.
“Spear series; 3rd art: Apocalypse Lance,”
Ae’ark’s next movements were fast, mind-numbingly so.
Ae’ark whizzed, flashed, blurred, and pierced, everything done seamlessly and swiftly.
He settled into a firm stance, then moved with unending speed. Piercing, piercing, and piercing again, releasing thrust upon thrust at maddening speeds.
The air parted before him, snake-like cracks forming all around. He moved with swiftness and precision, the pressure building with each strike.
Thousands of crimson pierces appeared all around him, each one devastating in its entirety.
The final thrust gathered all the energy, converging into a single, blinding crimson lance. It shot forward with the force of a cataclysm, a blinding streak of destruction.
The ground trembled, the air vibrated, and the very fabric of reality seemed to shatter under its might.
The Apocalypse Lance tore through everything in its path, forming a trail of destruction as it closed the distance, appearing in front of Atticus within less than a second.
There was simply no time to dodge, the lance incredibly large and all-encompassing. Everything happened so fast and without warning.
In one instant, Atticus was listening to Ae’ark speak, and in the next, a cataclysmic lance appeared in front of him.
Atticus felt the space around him warp in response to the devastating lance. His every attempt at teleporting was futile.
Atticus’s entire existence screamed at him like a blaring horn, his whole body acting without him even telling it to.
With a speed faster than light, Atticus performed multiple actions all at once.
A golden shield sprang up in front of him, thick in its entirety.
A slate and an engraver appeared in his arms, the word impenetrable shield getting engraved in an instant. A stream of mana entered it, a thick crimson shield appearing in front of him.
Atticus called upon every single one of his elements, each one exploding from his form in a maelstrom of power.
Air whipped around him, a tempest of fierce gales.
Fire ignited, roaring with intense heat.
Water surged, swirling in a fluid dance.
Earth rumbled, jagged rocks erupting from the ground.
Lightning crackled, bolts arcing and flashing.
Space warped, reality bending and contorting.
Light blazed, a radiant halo surrounding him.
Darkness enveloped, shadows deepening and coiling.
They swirled around him, a maelstrom of elemental fury. The air crackled with energy, each element vying for dominance yet perfectly in sync.
The ground trembled, the sky split, and the atmosphere buzzed with raw, unrestrained power.
Atticus stood at the center, the master of this cataclysmic dance, his gaze steady and his legs firm.
The moment slowed, the hearts of many pausing.
Then, the lance reached its destination, an explosion akin to a star going supernova ensuing.
A blinding flash of light that obliterated the surroundings ignited.
