From high up in the air, Atticus could see everything needed for a city to thrive. There were markets and what appeared to be government buildings. He could even see some humanoid beasts dressed identically in uniforms, patrolling the streets.
“This entire space is a manifestation of my will, my power. It is not born of mana, strength, or skill alone. The power of will—the essence that binds all actions to their outcomes. When I act, it is not merely a decision or choice. It is an absolute command of my will upon reality itself.
“It does not negotiate, it does not falter, it imposes.”
The entirety of the sovereign’s demeanor had changed, becoming serious. Atticus could feel the weight of his words in the air.
His aura encompassed the entirety of the chasm, and the beasts down below, roaming the streets, abruptly paused and stopped everything they were doing.
They suddenly felt the aura of their sovereign. As they each turned and faced upwards, simultaneously and in unison, they each sank to both knees, their foreheads touching the ground.
No words were uttered, and the entire chasm descended into sudden silence.
Atticus turned and looked at the sovereign. His blue hair floated in the air like waves, and his whole body emitted a bright light.
He appeared like a god on earth.
The light around him dimmed, sound returned, and the beasts resumed their activities.
“Of course, I can achieve this feat because my will is high and stable enough. However, this isn’t your goal for now. You see, that parasite is encroaching on your will bit by bit. It appears docile now, but it is anything but. Eventually, as time passes, your will becomes its will, and when that happens, it becomes you. A complete takeover.”
Atticus felt his blood run cold. A complete fucking takeover! He didn’t even consider the possibility that the sovereign was lying.
Firstly, the man wouldn’t gain anything from lying, and Atticus had been at his mercy from the very beginning. He was telling the truth.
“I’ve always felt it trying to get into my mind, but I thought I was fending it off.”
Atticus was currently fighting the urge to rip the stump from his chest. He now fully understood why the sovereign had been calling it a parasite from the very beginning. It had been buying time, lying low while it tried to take over his body little by little. Like a parasite!
‘There has to be a solution.’
“What’s with that terrible look, cub? I told you, you’re my star actor. Be calm! There’s a way to stop this. You need more willpower—not just more, but a stable and sturdy one. You already have a high will considering your age, but it’s hollow and filled with weak points, the same points the parasite is currently using to encroach into your mind little by little.”
Atticus took a deep breath.
“How do I achieve it?”
He couldn’t continue brooding. Atticus decided to focus on the positives. He had learned about this early enough. What if he hadn’t met this sovereign? Magnus also had no idea what was going on. It would have been too late.
The sovereign smiled.
“I’ll handle the sturdiness. Your only task will be to increase it. But I have to ask you first, are you sure you want to do this?”
Atticus tilted his head to the side.
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, no. Should you refuse, the parasite would end up taking over your body, and you’d be of no use to me then. It’d be better to just kill you where you float.”
Atticus sucked in a cold breath. There was a small smile on the sovereign’s face, but Atticus knew all too well that he wasn’t joking.
The man might have been displaying a friendly demeanor all this while, but Atticus had not forgotten that he was a paragon—a level one could reach only after a mountain of blood.
He wasted no time and nodded his head, accepting the sovereign’s proposal.
The sovereign’s demeanor became more friendly, as though he had found a good plaything.
With another wave of his hand, Atticus disappeared and found himself inside a dark, circular pit. Although it was a pit, it was very spacious, about 300 meters wide.
There was a single door at the far end of the pit, and only Atticus and the sovereign were present.
“The fastest way for anyone, man or beast, to increase their willpower is through life-and-death experiences. This is what you will experience for the next three weeks. Make sure you try your best not to die, human cub. Good luck!”
The sovereign disappeared before Atticus could say anything, and the large double door at the end of the pit swung open.
A figure walked in, his aura domineering.
He, or it, took its steps slowly and carefully, as though it were taking a stroll. Its arms, covered in yellow chitin-like armor, were clasped behind its back.
“We meet again, human.”
The figure spoke, its cold tone causing the surrounding temperature to drop.
Atticus’s gaze narrowed as the realization of the situation set in. ‘I’m fighting a grandmaster?’
This figure was none other than the vizier to the sovereign, Niall.
Atticus slowly drew his katana, the sound of the sword edge sliding against its sheath permeating the space. The killing intent Niall was emitting was everything Atticus needed to confirm the severity of the situation.
Life-and-death experiences. His life would be in danger.
The crimson gaze of Niall flashed as his minute mouth curled up into a small smile.
“I’ve been given orders from the sovereign. I will relay them to you now. My strength and abilities will be limited to the grandmaster- rank at all times. I will never make use of my domain, and each of our spars will last 10 minutes. Other than this, I have been ordered to try my best to kill you.”
“We will begin now.”
Atticus’s eyes narrowed into pinpricks, his grip on his katana tightening. His perception immediately ramped up to full throttle, but he suddenly found himself hurtling backward, hitting the wall of the pit with a devastating impact.
