Atticus trained without stopping or pausing. He was eternally grateful that Dekai had chosen this determined woman as his partner.
Indeed, one could not tell the nature of a person with just a single glance.
Joana had turned out to be something Atticus could have never expected—a training maniac.
Joana was relentless. She never called for rest and was always ready to battle whenever Atticus was ready.
At first, the others were completely enamored by the intensity at which the both of them were going at it, but eventually, it turned into shock and then fear. Just what were they made of?
The duo trained for days with shocking intensity and next to no breaks.
Atticus had come a long way in controlling the fire molecules. Unlike the imperfect fire that he had been creating, utilizing his fire element like this required significantly less effort and strain.
Atticus could continue controlling the construct for days if he wanted, but unfortunately, there was always a drawback—the mental strain. He had to keep track of every molecule and immediately act when they deviated from their instructions. This made him keep his perception constantly active.
Regardless, Atticus still lasted for quite a long while. Twenty-one hours, to be exact.
Afterward, he and Joana decided to get some rest, although it appeared that Joana could still continue, which made sense considering her greater experience.
However, neither of them descended. They both found a corner and began meditating. Atticus luckily didn’t require using so much of his mind to control the little molecules around his body. They had basically been trained already.
The meditation lasted for only two hours before they stood up and continued with their battle.
This same routine continued until exactly three days had passed.
The figure of Cerron ascended and reached the fourth summit.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Duran frowned.
The other members, along with the instructors, were already present, each of them turning as they saw him. Cerron hadn’t once shown up at the summit since he had descended.
Cerron swept his gaze around and found what he was looking for—Atticus, sitting cross-legged on one side of the summit, engaged in intense meditation.
His gaze turned icy, and without uttering a word or even greeting anyone, Cerron walked towards the middle of the summit and stood silently, his gaze closed.
Atticus made no movements or attempts at getting up, remaining motionless. The onlookers simply stared at the both of them, each of them anticipating the fight that was about to take place.
A 30-year-old veteran master+ rank versus a 16-year-old expert+ rank boy. It was truly a funny matchup.
They didn’t have to wait long as a bright light abruptly ignited directly above the summit, the figure of Dekai appearing and landing soundlessly on the burning ground.
His walking stick hit the ground with a loud BAM, his voice booming:
“Let the battle commence!”
Atticus’s gaze snapped open as he stood up straight. He approached the middle of the summit and stood across from Cerron, with Dekai in the middle.
The people of the fourth sanctum immediately gathered at a distance from them, their gazes fixed on the duo.
“Listen well, as I will only say it once. The rules of this battle are simple: use fire and only fire to fight. No other elements, no mana except the one from the molecules. You’re not allowed to use mana to augment your body and fight, nor with any art. No weapons are allowed except those formed from fire. You are allowed to use your will but only when it comes to manipulating fire. No aerokinesis is allowed. No physical confrontation or contact is allowed. Fire will be your only medium of attacking and defending. While I understand your grievances, I will allow no killing in this sanctum. That is all.”
Dekai had been completely concise and direct. He left nothing to the imagination and had chosen to list everything instead.
“You’ve been training with the kid. Who do you think will win?” Duran inquired from Joana, who was standing beside him. He was surprised when she responded so quickly:
“Atticus.”
Duran raised an eyebrow. “Really? But we’ve watched every battle you guys had, and he has never won a single one. He didn’t even land any hits.”
Duran’s disagreement with Joana’s response was apparent. From what he had seen in the past three days, he just couldn’t imagine Atticus winning this fight.
Joana’s gaze remained impassive and focused on Atticus, her hands clenched hard. ‘He wasn’t trying to win,’ she thought inwardly.
Duran took Joana’s silence as her refusing to answer him and eventually gave up. ‘I’m surprised she responded in the first place.’
However, his gaze couldn’t help but narrow slightly. Joana wasn’t the type to joke about this sort of thing; in fact, she wasn’t the type to joke at all. Just what was he missing?
The aura around the summit changed as the tension reached its peak.
Dekai turned towards Atticus and then Cerron, and seeing that both of them were ready, he declared:
“Begin.”
Dekai’s words were followed by him combusting and disappearing from their middle.
As soon as Dekai disappeared, not a second was wasted. The area in front of Atticus and Cerron combusted, fire erupting upwards, swirling around and coalescing in their fronts, the shapes of large constructs forming.
The heat was intense, causing the air to shimmer.
Exactly twenty-five seconds passed before both constructs finished, their imposing forms standing before their respective masters.
Atticus and Cerron had both completed their creations simultaneously—a feat that sent a ripple of shock through the crowd. It took the boy just three days to reach this level.
Cerron’s construct was a towering figure of flame, standing an impressive twenty-five feet tall. It was covered in heavy, flaming armor from head to toe, giving it an almost indestructible appearance.
The armor glowed with a white-hot intensity, and a long, fiery sword materialized in its hand.
In stark contrast, Atticus’s construct was aesthetically underwhelming.
It was simply the figure of a completely naked man, standing twenty feet tall. There was not a single piece of attire covering its fiery form, its simple and unadorned appearance almost serene compared to the imposing armor of Cerron’s creation.
However, despite its simplicity, there was a striking elegance to it. A single fire-made katana rested on its left waist.
The construct radiated the same aura as its creator, taking on a calm and composed stance that belied the tremendous power it held within.
For a moment, the two constructs faced each other, their fiery forms casting long, flickering shadows across the summit.
And then, without so much as a word, they both moved.
