Inside a dimly lit control room, a crowd of military officers, analysts, and sergeants sat hunched over an array of monitors.
Each screen displayed different battlefields, corresponding to one of the numerous teams undergoing their simulated war challenge.
The atmosphere was tense. Some teams were already struggling, falling apart under the relentless waves of enemies. Others showed tactical brilliance, but most recruits were failing, their inexperience was painfully clear.
Yet, despite the chaos of multiple teams facing their challenges simultaneously, most of the eyes in the room were locked onto one screen.
Atticus's challenge.
A single, commanding presence stood at the front of the room, his hands tucked behind his back, his posture relaxed yet imposing.
Colonel Zenon.
The mere fact that he was present was shocking. Zenon rarely, if ever, attended these evaluations. He had seen it all before, and nothing ever excited him.
And yet, here he was.
Not only watching but waiting.
He had found a new curiosity, and he was hell-bent on not missing a single second of it.
Atticus's battle had just begun, yet Zenon's lips curled into a wide smile.
One of the sergeants voiced what everyone was thinking, his brows furrowing as he observed the impossible battlefield Atticus had been thrown into.
"Colonel…" the man hesitated. "I understand your interest in this recruit, but this challenge is on a whole other level. Even some of the most seasoned commanders wouldn't be able to hold out against this kind of siege."
Another officer beside him nodded. "The fortress is massive, but their enemy is endless. And those airships, those weren't even in the original training modules."
A few murmurs of agreement spread through the room.
It was no secret. Zenon, in particular, had designed this challenge specifically for Atticus.
They knew he was strong, too strong. Too talented to be measured by traditional means.
But he wouldn't be able to fight in this challenge. Which meant his army would bear the brunt of everything.
Colonel Zenon let out a low chuckle, his sharp gaze never leaving the screen. He didn't bother responding to the officers, it was a waste of time.
'Those eyes…'
Atticus's eyes weren't those of someone who didn't know what he was doing.
They were the eyes of someone who planned before acting.
To Zenon, he couldn't imagine a scenario where Atticus would lose.
…
Atticus sat alone.
The room was dimly lit, its walls lined with glowing runes and floating screens. It was a perfect vantage point, giving him a complete view of the battlefield through a massive projection, a real-time feed of every recruit, every battalion, and every enemy surging toward the fortress.
He hadn't been teleported along with the others. Instead, he had been sent here, a control room.
It seemed the military was hellbent on making sure he took a leadership role in this challenge.
"Hmm…" Atticus muttered under his breath.
As soon as he had arrived, the full details of the challenge had been displayed before him.
He barely needed a second to analyze it all.
…
Challenge Details:
• Objective: Defend the fortress. Repel the enemy siege. Maintain command over the army. Survive.
• Time Limit: Until the enemy retreats.
• Conditions: You cannot fight personally. Your role is purely leadership. Your ability to strategize will determine the army's survival.
…
It was a test.
They weren't testing his power. They were testing his mind.
"Good."
His mismatched eyes gleamed as he took in everything at once.
The enemy forces included hundreds of thousands swarming up the mountain, fully armored, wielding war hammers and ready to crush anything in their path.
Hundreds of thousands more in the sky, blotting out the heavens. Even from the control room, Atticus could feel it.
They radiated a soothing aura, but it felt deceptive. It masked their lethal bloodlust.
But this wasn't the only thing on Atticus's mind. He also analyzed everything he had on his side.
Their Defensive Layout was a Fortress. Ancient. Built to withstand sieges.
With towering walls, reinforced gates, high vantage points for ranged units.
'Looks like they're trying to make us rely purely on our abilities.'
It wasn't the usual high-tech setup of their world.
Normally, the walls would be lined with so much artillery that it would be all one could see. Even the control room would have full fortress control.
If this had been a modern fortress, its defensive mechanisms alone would have been enough to repel the current enemy forces.
But all they had was a large, sturdy wall.
Not a single piece of artillery in sight.
Regardless, he would work with what he had.
His mind shifted toward his army composition, highlighting their roles.
'Dwarves: Heavy infantry, fortifications, artillery.'
'Angels: Airborne combat, light-based attacks, aerial superiority.'
'Demons: Shock troops, frontline brawlers, resilient bodies.'
'Elves: Ranged support, magic-infused arrows.'
'Humans: A mix, combat versatility.'
Atticus's mind spun like a machine.
Among the basic training the military had mandated in the first three months, it hadn't been only physical.
Viktor had tried lecturing him in the art of warfare.
But Atticus had simply insisted on absorbing all the information at once instead of wasting time with lectures. Because of that, he had already analyzed warfare from every angle.
A siege wasn't won through brute force.
It was won through control.
And right now, he controlled everything.
"Listen to my orders carefully."
His voice rang across the fortress, appearing everywhere and coming from nowhere.
The words were simple but that wasn't what the army focused on.
It was who had spoken them.
The moment they heard it, the entire army stilled.
Their senses sharpened, awaiting his words as though they were a decree.
Atticus's voice was calm. Straight.
"Dwarves. First priority: Reinforce the fortress. Construct layered defenses behind the first wall. I want pitfalls, barricades, and artillery placements set up immediately. Prepare all siege weapons."
A wave of movement rippled through the dwarven ranks. They didn't waste a single moment. The ground rumbled as they dug, hammered, and placed traps beneath the walls. Some of them rushed to load artillery, setting up mana cannons and long-range ballistae.
But Atticus's voice didn't pause.
"Elves. Take high positions. Prioritize air suppression. The moment they come into range, let hell rain down."
On command, the entire elven battalion scaled the fortress walls, bows glowing with power. Millions of arrows were nocked, shimmering with energy.
"Angels. I want a three-layered formation above the fortress. First line: Intercept incoming air units. Second line: Protect the artillery. Third line: Midair bombardment."
The sky exploded with a divine radiance. Angels, clad in gleaming armor, took to the skies in tight formations.
The battle had begun.