Atticus felt powerful.
If he had to be honest, it wasn't the first time he would feel this way. Every time it happened, the world seemed different, no, he was the one who had changed.
It was like someone who had walked their entire life suddenly being given the ability to fly.
It felt surreal.
It felt amazing.
His entire being would vibrate with an energy he had never experienced before, an energy that felt infinite.
His senses sharpened to an unprecedented degree, as if the world around him slowed while he moved forward effortlessly.
His strength multiplied manifold, his speed became terrifying, and it felt as though he could reach out, touch the horizon, and shatter mountains with a flick of his hand.
But even amidst all these incredible sensations, Atticus could feel it.
Something was different.He felt more than human, more than a man. A human being shouldn't feel this way.
His strength, speed, and perception weren't just enhanced. They felt limitless.
For the first time ever, Atticus didn't just feel powerful. He couldn't see the limits of his current power.
He felt invincible.
Spiritual energy wasn't related to or reliant on mana. It was its own distinct force, with its own properties and effects.
In the human domain, the Starhaven family had always been unmatched when it came to appearance and vitality. They lived longer than other families, which was one of the reasons why Sector 8 was dominated by their bloodline.
Like mana, spiritual energy enhanced every aspect of the body, speed, strength, and all other stats and some would even argue it did so to a higher degree than mana.
Atticus had suspected this ever since he concluded that the spirit world was a higher world than Eldoralth. If it was a higher world, then naturally its energy would also be stronger.
But this had left Atticus puzzled.
If his assumptions were true, then the Starhaven family should be the strongest in all of Eldoralth. They had mana, and they had spiritual energy, which was superior to mana, and they could use both.
So why were they so weak?
Then it dawned on him, the Starhaven's history. They had been utterly powerless at one point, and in the human domain, those with weak talent or control over mana were always weak.
This meant their mana was lacking.
The bulk of their strength came from spiritual energy. And while it was a superior energy, it wasn't native to Eldoralth. Simply put, they were aliens using the energy of another world. ṟΆΝỖВЕ𝙎
Aside from their unique physiology, there had to be limits to how much spiritual energy they could wield or how strong they could become with it. Either that, or spirits lived far longer than humans, allowing them to achieve greater strength over time.
The exact reason wasn't easy to pinpoint, but that wasn't what Atticus had been focusing on.
The Starhaven family's talent with mana was incredibly low, making the mana in their bodies almost negligible. They relied mostly on spiritual energy.
But what about him?
Atticus's talent with mana was unmatched.
His mana was so potent that it made him stronger than others of the same rank. He had always relied on mana.
But now, he had spiritual energy as well.
Two energy types, each capable of amplifying every stat in the body, had synchronized and were now flowing seamlessly through Atticus's being.
In every fiber of his body, Atticus felt raw, unmeasurable power.
He had always been able to gauge his strength. As a master+ rank, coupled with his katana art and exo suit, he could rival the strength of a grandmaster+ rank. That level of power, though impressive, was calculable to him.
But this…
What he felt now defied reason. Every stat, every ounce of his strength, speed, and perception had been amplified to a level he could barely fathom, a level surpassing even grandmaster+.
He was certain he hadn't reached the paragon rank; he hadn't even scratched its surface. But he was far beyond the realm of grandmaster+ rank.
Around him, Veylor's spirit, the twins and their spirits converged with lightning-fast speed, movements that would have been impossible for most to track. At their current speed, the average person would have been rendered unconscious, unable to process their sheer velocity.
Yet to Atticus, they were moving at a snail's pace.
He saw everything.
The twitch of their muscles, the flow of spiritual energy surging through their bodies as they prepared to strike, the arcs of their attacks forming before they fully materialized.
The very air seemed to slow, every displaced particle visible to him. He could trace the beads of sweat forming on their brows, the dilation of their pupils as they focused, and even the faint rhythm of their breaths as their chests rose and fell.
The battlefield unfolded before him, a vivid map of every trajectory, every intention, every flaw.
To him, they weren't opponents, they were stories written in advance, their every move and thought laid bare before they were carried out.
In that moment, Atticus didn't just see his enemies. He saw everything.
His exo suit throbbed, its form evolving in real time. It had Initially been built to harness mana alone as it was the only energy Atticus used. But now, it adapted to his newfound dual energies.
Streaks of vibrant purple and shimmering blue appear across the surface, forming intricate, flowing patterns that seemed alive.
The air thickened around him, filled with mana and spiritual energy as his suit absorbed both from the environment.
The surge of power coursing through him was unprecedented, his strength magnified beyond comprehension.
His piercing blue eyes shifted, splitting into a mesmerizing swirl of purple and blue, glowing faintly.
His gaze flickered and then, the stillness shattered as time resumed its motion.
To the twins and the spirits, one moment they converged around Atticus, their attacks blazing with unstoppable force, and in the next, his figure vanished into thin air.
Their eyes widened in shock as their attacks continued forward, dangerously close to colliding with each other.
And just as the realization hit, a sudden, deafening bam! ripped through the air.
To them, it was a single, earth-shattering sound, loud, explosive, and final.
But to Atticus, it was different.
It was seven distinct impacts, each precisely timed and perfectly synchronized, blending together so seamlessly in their time frame that they resonated as one unified blast.
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