The Obsidian Order had achieved a feat that no one in the entirety of Eldoralth would have ever believed to be possible.
The utilization of life force as a weapon.
Life force, in the simplest terms, was the essence of existence , the lifetime of an individual, the culmination of potential, innate vitality, spiritual depth, and destined longevity. It was more than a number of years; it was the weight of one's being… and the power that resided in their very soul.
The strength of one's life force was a terrifying concept, because nothing outweighed life itself. That singular truth was the verse carved into the hearts of the Obsidian Order.
"There is nothing greater than life."
And with that truth, they created an abominable method: using life itself as a catalyst for destruction.
With it, even a mere Expert rank could imprison a Paragon.
With it, even a child could become a living bomb capable of collapsing cities.
But such power came at the ultimate price, the complete obliteration of the user's existence. And the Obsidian Order had no qualms with such sacrifices. They welcomed death. They worshiped results.
So far, only the Obsidian Order possessed the technology and understanding to manipulate life force in such a way.
Viktor Halden was not one of those individuals.
And yet… he had used it. Perfectly.
Two things had guided him.
The first was the moment he held the orb, the core that had imprisoned Atticus Ravenstein.
Draktharion had felt the unbearable weight it held. But when Viktor touched it…
It had felt weightless.
Almost… welcoming.
And then came the whisper.
A whisper of death.
A whisper that spoke directly to his soul. Urging him, pleading with him to surrender everything he was for what resided within it.
The second was Xal'zereth's words.
"You'll die a meaningless death."
To anyone else, it was a threat. A cold, dismissive declaration.
But to Viktor, who had heard death's whisper, it was everything he needed.
He didn't need to force anything.
He didn't need to manipulate his life force consciously.
The orb had simply taken it, the moment he willed it so.
"I give my life… to free Atticus Ravenstein."
Those words echoed like prophecy, like judgment. And their implications rippled across the sky.
The moment he spoke, a blinding light erupted from the core, flaring so violently that it parted the very clouds above the dimensional world, casting away the gloom as if the heavens themselves made way for something greater.
All heads snapped toward the light. Eyes winced. Auras trembled.
Only three people in that moment were able to keep their eyes open.
The first was Xal'zereth, his array of abyssal black orbs watching every millisecond with unsettling calmness.
The second was Zenon, who didn't care if his vision burned out, his eyes had adapted, tears streaming from their corners, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles cracked beneath the strain.
And lastly… Viktor himself.
His body trembled. His eyes sizzled from the overwhelming glow, smoke rising from his sockets, but he didn't flinch. He stared directly into the radiance, face contorted not in pain… but in peace.
A soft smile crept across his burnt lips.
One of acceptance. Of sacrifice. Of hope.
And as the figure began to form within the core of that celestial light, Viktor's lips moved one last time.
"Please… save our world."
And then, he turned to dust. Gone… like a flame in the wind.
And as the light faded, the Apexes, the Sergeants, the recruits, the survivors, everyone opened their eyes…
And what they saw froze their souls.
He was there.
Hovering midair. Draped in faint golden light. Cross-legged, unmoving. Eyes closed.
Atticus Ravenstein.
They had heard Viktor's words and they knew that Atticus was coming. And while a faint glimmer of hope lit up in their eyes, as they saw him now, this… this wasn't what they had been expecting.
Everyone present knew what kind of person Atticus was. A man of action. A man of coldness that could freeze worlds.
As soon as he was freed, they had expected him to attack with the intent to kill. To decimate.
They had expected his return to come like a storm. Like fire. Like wrath. They had expected explosions, violence, a massacre.
Instead… he simply sat.
Still. Silent. Detached from the world around him.
The screams. The falling debris. The chaos. Even the plummeting island above seemed to lose its sound.
The very air had gone mute.
He didn't even look at them.
His eyes remained closed, as though everything was beneath him. As though he was no longer part of the same reality.
His presence was calm, yet oppressive.
Quiet, yet louder than anything they had ever known.
One second passed.
Then two.
And Xal'zereth… narrowed his eyes.
His array of abyssal eyes had analyzed every inch of Atticus, every molecule, every subtle fluctuation in the air around him.
But what disturbed Xal'zereth wasn't what Atticus was doing.
It was what he wasn't.
No energy radiated from him.
No mana signature.
No elemental fluctuation.
No spiritual resonance.
No will.
Nothing.
It was like he didn't exist.
And yet… he clearly did.
That contradiction, that impossibility, made Xal'zereth's gaze sharpen like a blade.
Xal'zereth, like most Zorvans, loathed the unknown.
Wildcards. Variance. Anything that could not be calculated, quantified, or programmed into an outcome.
He despised unpredictability, not out of emotion, but out of logic. To a Zorvan, anything that couldn't be accounted for was a flaw, an inefficiency that needed elimination.
That creed was their essence. Their religion.
And in all their years of attacking Eldoralth, Atticus Ravenstein was the first anomaly.
The Apexes were powerful, yes, brilliant monsters of their generation. But they were still within the realm of expectation. Predictable.
Atticus was not.
He had soared beyond every projected curve. Surpassed every limit. Shattered every ceiling they'd placed on him through their countless algorithms. Through their vast intelligence networks embedded within the Alliance, they had monitored him closely.
That was why Xal'zereth had taken special interest, why he had opted to deal with Atticus himself, using one of the Obsidian Order's Life Artifacts to trap him before the battle ever began.