NOVEL NEXT Chapter 912 Worthy
Chapter 912 Worthy
The stillness shattered.
A deafening roar of mana erupted, surging outward like a tidal wave, shaking the obsidian ground and obliterating the silence.
The darkened world was consumed by a blinding blue storm, its radiant light devouring everything in its path.
The figure's feral eyes narrowed into pinpricks. His arm, which had been tearing toward Atticus's head, froze mid air.
With a snarl, he pulled it back, crossing it over his head like a shield.
But then it hit.
The storm slammed into him with the force of a tsunami crashing against a cliff, relentless and merciless.
His muscles bulged as he took a step back, his feet grinding into the hard ground. The gale tore at him, shards of mana slicing through the air like countless blades.
'I can withstand this,' he thought calmly, his gaze sharpening as he anchored himself.
But then—
A burst of light flared from the storm, impossibly bright. The figure's eyes widened.
'What?!'
The storm detonated.
The explosion was monstrous, an ear-splitting cacophony as the shockwave shattered the air and tore through the battlefield.
The ground fractured and groaned under the pressure, ripples of blue energy radiating outward with devastating force.
The figure was hurled backward, his body twisting uncontrollably as the sheer force flung him through the air.
'Interesting… interesting…' his thoughts raced even as his senses spun. He flipped mid-air, stabilizing himself, and skidded violently across the ground.
Sparks and shards of obsidian scattered as he came to a halt. The mana storm continued to rage around him. The air felt suffocatingly heavy, as though gravity itself had multiplied.
He narrowed his crimson gaze toward the source of the attack.
But Atticus was already gone.
His gaze flickered to the side.
'There.'
In a flash, Atticus appeared, his movements like lightning, too fast to follow. The blinding blue katana carved through the storm as it descended toward the figure's neck with terrifying precision.
'He's fast.'
The figure's eyes trembled. The shift in speed was staggering. Too stark. Moments ago, Atticus had struggled to keep up. Now, he was relentless, his movements sharper, faster, overwhelming.
The figure's eyes narrowed.
'I'll adjust to his strength.'
His aura exploded outward, more feral, more powerful. His speed surged, and in a single, swift motion, he darted backward, narrowly evading the slash.
Their eyes locked briefly before both figures vanished into the storm.
Blades clashed. Sparks flew.
The storm fueled Atticus, his strikes coming from every direction, lethal and unrelenting. The figure dodged, weaving through the onslaught, his expression growing darker with each passing moment.
Dodge. Dodge. Dodge.
And yet, with each exchange, Atticus's power seemed to climb higher. Faster. Stronger.
The figure's thoughts scrambled.
'This is impossible.'
As he dodged another strike from Atticus, his eyes caught his reflection in the blazing katana.
A realization slammed into him like a hammer.
He was retreating.
His eyes narrowed as he leaped back once more.
'What am I doing?' he thought, a wave of disbelief washing over him. 'How embarrassing.'
Straightening his stance, the feral glow in his crimson eyes ignited like flames. He stopped retreating, his voice booming through the storm.
"I'm running… from a child."
The air around him burned as fiery scales erupted across his arms, flames licking at the edges of his figure. The temperature spiked sharply, the searing flames twisting around his hardened limbs.
Atticus's katana flashed forward, its brilliant light piercing through the inferno.
"I'll stop that now."
The figure moved, his arm shooting forward to meet the strike.
The two forces collided.
A deafening explosion erupted, shaking the entire space. The shockwave tore through the storm, scattering the blue light as both figures were hurled apart.
The figure skidded to a stop, his body trembling. He turned his gaze downward, his expression morphing into shock as he stared at his limb, utterly battered. Flesh, scale, and bone had been reduced to mush.
"'I underestimated… the life weapon,' he thought, crimson flames swirling around him as he steadied himself.
He had intentionally reduced his power, including his bodily strength, to match Atticus. Any injuries that would affect someone of Atticus's strength would also affect him.
However, it wasn't perfect. He had wanted to be fair, but his body was still far more durable than what a grandmaster could hope to destroy. And yet, his arm had been reduced to such a state.
Another explosion rocked the air. His head snapped up.
Through the raging storm, Atticus descended, his katana blazing like a falling star, aimed directly for his head.
The figure's gaze widened, his undamaged left arm snapping upward to intercept the strike. The katana's blazing edge burned with searing light, descending through the storm like a comet.
But then—
Atticus's eyes flashed.
An explosion detonated to the left of the katana, jerking the blade sideways with violent force. The figure staggered, his footing faltering for a split second.
Another explosion erupted behind the blade, propelling it forward in a sharp right slash, faster.
The figure's expression tightened, shock filling his gaze. The strike was abrupt, precise, and devastatingly fast. Too fast.
The katana roared toward his torso, the sharpness licking at his chest.
If it landed, there was no doubt about it, it would split him in two.
His gaze sharpened, realization dawning as a smile appeared on his face. 'He's got me.'
But just as the slash was about to land—
The world stilled.
The katana froze mid-air, inches from the figure's torso. Atticus's momentum vanished, his body locked in place. His muscles strained, his mana churned, but no matter what he did, he couldn't move.
'What…' Atticus's voice echoed in his mind, his eyes narrowing.
The figure's lips curled into a wide grin. Then, he laughed. Deep, booming, and unrestrained.
The obsidian floor beneath them shimmered, cracks repairing themselves with unnatural speed. The swirling storm of mana dissipated as if swallowed by an unseen force.
The laughter grew louder, echoing endlessly in the void.
The figure straightened himself, lowering his gaze to Atticus, his crimson eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was as though he had found a treasure.
His completely battered right arm healed visibly as he spoke.
"Congratulations, Atticus," he said, his voice resonating through the darkened world.
"You have proven yourself worthy."