Darkness.
That was all Atticus saw before it receded, leaving him standing at the edge of a familiar serene dojo.
‘I have to be quick,’ he thought. This was his only option given his current situation: entering the katana realm. He needed every thing he had for the fight that was to come.
Atticus’s eyes landed on the figure seated in the middle of the dojo— a man with white hair, now aged considerably more than Atticus remembered.
“Ancestor Cedric?” Atticus’s gaze narrowed as he began approaching the center of the dojo.
“The young monster,” Cedric replied, flashing Atticus a warm smile, causing the latter’s eyes to widen in surprise.
“What happened?” Atticus immediately asked. While Cedric had been old the last time they met, he hadn’t been this frail and worn out.
Back then, his body had been filled with vigor and life, and Atticus could feel the power radiating off him.
However, Cedric’s current state was the opposite. His back was hunched, and he leaned on a walking stick. His entire body appeared lifeless, as if he might die and turn to dust at any second. It was a stark difference.
“Haha, is it that bad?” Cedric smiled gently, but Atticus didn’t respond, his expression only becoming more serious.
Cedric sighed. “It was the only way you could survive that situation. An advanced rank fighting three expert ranks, even with the power of the life weapon, was impossible,”
Atticus’s eyes widened. He had already suspected there would be repercussions for receiving that much pure power, but he hadn’t expected that Cedric would be the one to bear the cost.
“What’s going to happen to you?” Atticus asked, his voice tense with concern.
Cedric smiled warmly, noticing the worry in Atticus’s expression.
“My actions led to the life force holding my spirit together waning significantly. It’s unfortunate, but this will be my last rodeo,”
Atticus froze, an overwhelming sense of guilt settling in. He hadn’t been particularly close with Cedric, but the man had saved his life—at the cost of his own.
“Don’t give me that look, child. I chose to do this on my own; it’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself,”
Seeing that Atticus was still troubled, Cedric decided to change the subject.
“On a more important note, I’ve been watching all your exploits and achievements. You’ve done well—too well, in fact,” Cedric praised, muttering the last bit to himself. He had wanted to commend Atticus, but suddenly remembered everything the “little monster” had done. It was overwhelming.
“Listen, boy. None of us have ever accomplished everything you have, and none of us have ever come so close to surviving. If you continue on this path, you’ll have a chance against those other monsters!”
Cedric’s words snapped Atticus out of his thoughts. He still felt guilty, but he had more pressing matters to address.
There was a question that had been on his mind since the last time he was in the katana realm.
“Forming a domain is what makes a grandmaster a grandmaster, right? Is that where you all end up dying?”
Atticus hadn’t forgotten Cedric’s words from their previous encounter. He knew he would soon begin forming his domain, and he needed to know if there was something he should be wary of.
Cedric smiled wryly.
“Sometimes I wonder how you think. There’s a grandmaster about to kill you, and you’re worried about this?”
Atticus’s expression remained unchanged, causing Cedric to sigh.
“I suppose it’s time you knew everything. I’m sure you’re already aware that you’re not the only reincarnated person on this planet,” Cedric began, watching as Atticus nodded before continuing.
“The Nexus competition you’re about to participate in is just one of many that have taken place over the centuries. Almost every time, the reincarnated who become the apex of their respective races turn it into a death game where only the victor survives,” Cedric explained.
“However, due to the overwhelming difference in strength between the races, many of the human reincarnators have chosen not to become an apex and participate in the Nexus. Unfortunately, every single one of them, without exception, has ended up dying as they reached the grandmaster rank.”
Cedric’s tone grew more serious, making Atticus tense.
“No, this isn’t about forming your domain. Until now, it hasn’t been possible to form a domain without reaching the master+ rank. But you’ve always been different, boy. Don’t let that go to your head.
“The formation of your domain would give you an overwhelming boost in strength, which is essential for entering the grandmaster- rank. Forming your domain now would still give you this boost, but it might not be enough to carry you into the grandmaster ranks. If you find yourself hitting the bottleneck between master+ and grandmaster, simply form your domain to break through. However, be cautious.”
Cedric paused, his voice taking on a grave tone.
“As soon as you enter the grandmaster rank, you will be summoned into the life weapon without the power to resist. There, you will undergo a test and learn the fourth art. But this time, any death means death in reality.”
Atticus’s eyes widened. He knew how many times he had to die before learning the life weapon arts. Now Cedric was telling him he could die for real while learning the fourth art?
Atticus clenched his fist. ‘I’ll think about this later. Let’s focus on the present for now. First things first.’
“How long will it take me to learn the third art, and how much time will pass in reality?” Atticus regained his composure and asked.
Cedric shook his head, impressed by Atticus’s ability to stay calm. ‘I made the right decision,’ he thought.
“It should take you about three months in this world and only two seconds outside, but considering you, it may be even less.”
Atticus nodded. “I’d like to begin immediately.”
Cedric nodded in return and used his stick to support himself as he stood up. “Follow me.”
Neither of them moved, but the scene changed, and Atticus found himself standing in the middle of a large hall. Ahead of him was a flight of stairs leading to a man seated on an imposing throne.
‘The life weapon avatar,’ Atticus thought. He could never forget this figure. It was responsible for an uncountable number of his deaths in this realm.
“The reason you’ve been unable to learn the third art all these years is that your body couldn’t withstand it. But after your advancement, you now have more than enough power. How would you like to learn it?” Cedric explained.
Atticus nodded, understanding the implications. Cedric was asking whether he wanted to learn through battle with the avatar or through normal training.
“Let me fight it once and see where I stand. I don’t have to worry about dying in reality, right?”
Cedric smiled and shook his head. “No, that only happens when you’re learning the fourth art. Step forward.”
Atticus obeyed, stepping forward, and the avatar’s eyes snapped open. A frigid gaze seemed to immobilize Atticus in his tracks.
The man stood up calmly, unhurriedly, with the grace of a king.
In an almost ethereal movement, he descended from the elevated platform, landing soundlessly a few meters behind Atticus.
Atticus swiftly turned to face him. ‘Damn, this is crazy,’ he thought, noting that the aura emanating from the avatar was far stronger than what he felt the last time he faced it. The difference was so vast that it was hard to believe this was the same entity.
The man simply stood there, his face expressionless, his attire billowing in an invisible breeze. Atticus knew what this meant—he had to make the first move.
‘I don’t have my exosuit or elements. Only mana and katana,’ Atticus reminded himself, steeling his mind.
His hand reached for his katana. But just as he grabbed it, a blinding flash of light moved before he could react, phasing through him. Everything went blank, and the emotionless voice of the avatar echoed in his ears.
“Katana series, 3rd art:
.
.
.
Vorpal Nova”
Atticus’s eyes snapped open, and he immediately ran his hands frantically over his body. ‘What the hell just happened?’
Cedric’s laughter brought him out of his thoughts.
“What happened?” Atticus asked, still in shock.
“What do you mean? You died, of course,” Cedric replied, gesturing towards the middle of the room.
The life weapon’s avatar was still standing in one spot, but in front of him was a scene that made Atticus’s scalp tingle with shock.
A deep gash, as wide as any canyon, traced along the hallway, splitting the grand stairs and throne in two. It didn’t end there; the gash continued, cutting through the wall and building, revealing the darkness that surrounded them.
And the man simply stood there, unmoving, as if he wasn’t responsible.
It was an overwhelming display of power that made Atticus’s heart race.
“I’d like to learn the third art normally, please,” Atticus declared absentmindedly.
Cedric laughed again. “Good choice.”
