The silence in the air was deafening.
As soon as Blackgate vanished, many of the people present let out sighs of relief. However, a deep sense of unease lingered in their hearts. The Obsidian Order had a Paragon—perhaps even multiple Paragons. The weight of this revelation was as shocking as it was devastating.
Magnus’s lightning construct turned toward the remnants of the Ravenstein estate, his gaze sweeping over the gathered family members. Seeing them safe, he offered his grandson a long, appraising look before turning to Seraphina and giving her a respectful nod of appreciation.
Then, as silently as it had arrived, the lightning construct began to dissipate into the air, sparking out of existence.
Just as the remnants of Magnus’s power faded, a ripple of overwhelming pressure descended upon the scene. The Paragons had arrived.
The air grew thick, so dense with power that Avalon and the others found it nearly impossible to move, despite their urgency. The sheer weight of their presence blanketed the battlefield like a suffocating fog.
Gavin with his hammer strapped to his back, appeared first, the ground beneath him rumbling slightly as he arrived.
Next, Octavius arrived, his slender frame almost ghostly in its movements. His sharp features were impassive, and the air around him seemed to hum with the faint reverberation of sound waves. His cold eyes darted across the ruined landscape.
And then came Aurelius. He towered over the others, his skin glistening with the tattoos of countless beasts he could transform into at will. His aura was primal, ancient, and suffused with the untamed energy of the wild.
As they arrived, their combined presence pressed heavily on everyone.
Octavius, his eyes narrowing, immediately asked, “Seraphina… what happened?”
Seraphina sighed softly before beginning to recount the events, though her figure remained guarded. She still held Atticus tightly within her construct, not willing to release him. She couldn’t be sure of their intentions for now—not when Atticus’s life was at stake.
While Seraphina spoke, Atticus was lost in his own world.
The sound of her voice became a muted blur, drowned out by the anger that simmered within him.
His molten gaze remained locked on the spot where Blackgate and the Obsidian Order had disappeared.
They were gone.
But his fury had only grown. It seethed, boiling within him, spilling out uncontrollably.
His flames, which had dimmed momentarily, began to flare again, growing larger and more unstable. The fire surrounding him trembled with intensity, and for the first time, Atticus wasn’t sure what to do with it.
He was furious—with the Obsidian Order, yes—but most of all, with himself. He had been weak, powerless to stop them.
The fire built and built, erupting with explosive force as the temperature around him tripled. The air shimmered with heat, warping reality itself.
Seraphina’s gaze sharpened. “He’s going to explode,” she muttered, her purple eyes narrowing as she tried to contain the growing inferno within her construct.
Atticus’s power was spiraling out of control, and Seraphina knew that if he wasn’t stopped, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Avalon and Anastasia, who had been staying back out of respect for the Paragons, suddenly bolted forward, no longer able to hold themselves back.
“Atticus!”
“Atticus!”
Their voices rang out, but Atticus couldn’t hear them. He was lost in his thoughts. ‘I’m too weak… Why am I so weak? I let them escape… It’s my fault…’
The flames surrounding him roared louder with each thought, the heat growing more volatile.
Seraphina could feel the instability building, the temperature surging as the very air quaked. She tried to contain the explosion, but it was becoming harder with each passing second.
She could control the explosion, but the most important thing here was Atticus’s life—she couldn’t control that. ‘If Atticus explodes and dies, everything becomes meaningless,’ she thought, grimly assessing the situation.
“We have to put him to sleep,” she concluded, turning toward Octavius, intending to ask him to use his sound abilities to put Atticus under.
But before she could speak, Avalon and Anastasia reached them. Anastasia’s desperate eyes met Seraphina’s, pleading for permission to enter the construct. Seraphina hesitated for only a second before allowing them inside.
As they entered, the heat hit them like a wave.
Anastasia winced, but Avalon immediately used his control over fire to mitigate the searing temperature.
Yet even he could feel the resistance. The molecules were harder to manipulate, as if the flames themselves were resisting his will.
“Such anger…” Avalon muttered. “The molecules are fighting back, like they’re worshipping him.”
“Atticus!” Anastasia cried out, moving closer, her heart racing with fear.
But Atticus didn’t respond. His molten gaze remained fixed on the place where Blackgate had vanished. His body trembled with rage, and he muttered to himself, lost in his own world.
Anastasia’s worry deepened, her voice trembling as she called out again, “Atticus!”
She couldn’t reach him, and the heat around him was becoming unbearable. Her skin began to sizzle and burn, the intense flames scorching her flesh. Avalon tried to stop her, but she ignored him, her determination overriding the pain.
Ignoring the searing heat, Anastasia pushed forward, finally reaching Atticus. Her hand shot out and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him to face her.
“Atticus!”
Her voice broke through the chaos in his mind. For the first time, his molten gaze locked onto her face. In that moment, it was as though a switch had flipped.
A crimson glow flickered in his eyes, and the raging fire around him suddenly stilled, the flames calming as his will acted.
“M-Mom…” Atticus’s voice was weak, and a sad smile tugged at his lips. The anger drained from him, replaced by a deep, overwhelming exhaustion.
The crimson glow surrounding him dimmed, and he collapsed forward, unconscious, into Anastasia’s arms.
The entire battlefield let out a collective sigh of relief.
The Ravensteins and the Paragons had been on the brink of losing their greatest genius.
Avalon gently touched Anastasia’s seared hands. “Ana, your hands…”
“I’m fine,” she replied softly, her voice steady. Despite the flames having been snuffed out, Atticus’s body was still unbearably hot, scorching her skin. But her expression showed no sign of pain. No one was going to take her baby away from her.
Avalon said nothing, only nodding in understanding. Together, they exited Seraphina’s construct, paying their respects to the Paragons as they flew down toward the remnants of the Ravenstein estate.
“My lady!” Arya rushed forward, her wounds still healing but her concern clear. Her eyes were fixed on the unconscious Atticus, her worry palpable.
The Ravenstein elders, the Sanctum heads, and the rest of the family gathered around.
“I need a place to lay him down,” Anastasia said urgently.
All eyes immediately turned to Nathan. Startled, the round man jolted in surprise. “H-Huh?!” He glanced around before grumbling, “Oh, for the love of—fine!”
Nathan, huffing and grumbling under his breath, stomped the ground. “What do they think I am, some kinda builder or something? Always making me do the hard work…”
The earth rumbled, and within seconds, a simple but sturdy building formed from the rubble.
Anastasia wasted no time and carried Atticus inside.
