“I’ll be back soon,” Whisker suddenly said, standing up from his throne. Though he tried to hide it, his excitement was clear as his entire body trembled.
“Where are you going?” a cold voice responded instantly, but Whisker didn’t bother turning toward Blackgate.
He chuckled. “Since when do you care about me? I’ll be back soon. Don’t miss me too much.”
Before Blackgate could say anything else, Whisker abruptly vanished from the hall. In the next second, Blackgate couldn’t feel his presence in the abyss anymore.
‘He left his world?’ Blackgate was both surprised and wary. Since he had met the beast, Whisker had never left his world. It was strange, and he didn’t like strange.
A low sound, “urg,” suddenly drew his attention, and his gaze fell upon the branch heads and others in the hall, on their knees under the weight of his overwhelming aura.
Collecting his thoughts, Blackgate lifted his aura, allowing his subordinates to breathe. Intense sweat drenched their clothes as they quickly wiped their foreheads and bowed before excusing themselves.
“We’ll leave first, Paragon Blackgate.”
Blackgate had already stopped paying attention to them. They had just finished watching the final battle between Atticus and Karn, and were still processing the gravity of what had occurred.
The reason he had lost control of his powers momentarily was due to the unease he felt over Whisker’s actions.
Despite knowing Whisker for years, he could never quite grasp what the beast was truly thinking. Whisker appeared playful, but Blackgate knew better than anyone what he was capable of. He was a wildcard.
‘Annoying,’ Blackgate thought, clicking his tongue.
He didn’t like that wildcard running around unsupervised.
…
As Atticus appeared in the middle of the coliseum, he was met with an unusually silent crowd. He had already considered the different ways the other races might react to his victory and had mentally prepared himself for any outcome.
The arena was so tall that even with his sharp sight, he couldn’t see any of the paragons. But he could feel Magnus’s warm gaze on him.
Atticus smiled, unfazed, as he made his way across the arena toward an exit. Though no one cheered in the coliseum, it felt as though the deafening cheers of the humans in their domain reached even here.
Just as Magnus and the others were about to descend to meet Atticus, Azrakan Valarius suddenly appeared in front of their balcony with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“A word, please.”
…
Atticus met one of the Dimensari grandmasters who had greeted them upon their arrival. The man’s gaze appeared neutral, his demeanor entirely respectful; however, his aura told a different story.
The grandmaster led Atticus through the hallways toward a large door. Throughout the walk, Atticus remained on high alert, his guard at its peak.
“Where are you taking me?” Atticus asked abruptly as they reached the door, causing the man to pause. After a brief silence, the grandmaster replied in a neutral tone:
“To your resting chambers, Apex Atticus.”
Atticus didn’t like that pause, nor the man’s tone.
Among all the things he had learned in life, Atticus had always prioritized reading the room, and while “the room” in this case referred to the Dimensari domain, its meaning didn’t change.
The silent crowd, the intense gazes from the other paragons upon exiting the Nexus world—everything told him this wasn’t over. He was far from safe.
Because of this, Atticus was in a hyper-aware state, meticulously analyzing every interaction, theorizing about possible threats. Only when he was back in Sector 3 would he feel even a modicum of safety.
After the man bowed and left, Atticus didn’t bother with further questions. It felt pointless. He turned to the door.
‘According to Grandfather, under the mana contract the Dimensari signed, they’re responsible for our safety until we leave their domain. The Nexus might be over, but I’m still under their care. But still…’
Atticus’s eyes narrowed.
He might not need to worry about the Dimensari, but the other races were a different story entirely.
‘I’ll stay cautious.’
Despite high mana levels, he felt exhausted; he had nearly depleted his will with the stunts he’d pulled against Karn. He needed time to recover.
Steeling himself, Atticus held his katana tightly, opened the large door, and entered the room.
The room was brightly lit, and Atticus stood at the entrance, observing everything around him.
It all seemed normal.
After a more thorough inspection, he shut the door and headed to the king-sized bed in the center of the room, sitting cross-legged on it.
Keeping his guard up, he focused on recovering his will.
‘I wonder where Grandfather is,’ he thought, an odd feeling nagging at him. Magnus was unpredictable but usually reliable in his own way.
Normally, he’d have been there to greet Atticus as soon as he exited the Nexus world. The fact that he hadn’t was unsettling.
After about 20 minutes of meditation, he heard the door creak open.
‘I can’t sense any presence.’
His hand moved to his katana, his aura shifting, but as he saw who entered, his guard relaxed.
“Grandfather?” Atticus quickly stood up and approached.
“Why the hell are you still training? Are you oblivious to your power, or are you just that much of a lunatic?”
Luminous clicked his tongue, eyeing Atticus. They had all seen him meditating before entering the room.
Even Thorne and Seraphina had been flabbergasted—after everything that had happened, the kid was still training?
“Although not entirely wrong, he has a point, sweetie. Training is good, but you must know when to rest,” Seraphina said.
Atticus smiled at Seraphina, ignoring Luminous.
“Thank you, La—” he started, then paused, quickly changing his words when he met Seraphina’s firm gaze. “—Aunt Seraphina.”
He inwardly shook his head as he saw the small smile on Seraphina’s lips, but soon his attention turned elsewhere.
“Rest,” Magnus ordered firmly.
Atticus chuckled, turning toward Magnus. It seemed they were all on the same page.
“I will, as soon as we get back to our domain. When are we leaving?”
A frown appeared on Magnus’s face, and the others’ expressions darkened as well.
Seeing this, Atticus sighed.
‘Why can’t my gut feeling be wrong for once?’
