Fire. Water. Air. Earth.
In the history of Eldoralth, even including the world of the Zorvans, the notion of combining the elements was such that no one had thought it possible.
Till this day, that notion did not change. Although they were insanely rare, there had been elementalists who could wield multiple elements in history.
But they had wielded them separately. Considering the fact that warriors were always searching for ways to progress in power, many had tried to fuse them together countless times. And the result had always been the same, fire and water created mist, wind and fire fueled the blaze, and so on.
However, even they knew these were merely superficial reactions, interactions, not true fusions. At best, they were elemental reactions occurring on the surface level, each element retaining its individual nature and simply colliding or cooperating at that moment.
But what Atticus did was different. It wasn't just a combination; it was a synthesis. He didn't let the elements react, he made them resonate. At a fundamental level, down to their essence, their very molecular or energetic structure, he forced them to harmonize.
Every bit of that realization raced through Xal'zereth's mind with terrifying speed as he watched the paragons of the Obsidian Order disintegrate, reduced to nothing, not even ashes left to scatter in the wind.
His array of black eyes sharpened as he replayed every frame of what he had just witnessed, frame by frame, second by second.
But there was no respite.
A sound tore through the battlefield.
It felt like a rupture, a violent distortion of space and atmosphere.
Xal'zereth's brows furrowed, only to see that the one he had been analyzing was… gone.
The skies of the dimensional world imploded inward, a vacuum ripple folding space in a violent spiral.
Atticus moved.
It felt like a single act of wrath, a motion carried by the will of the elements themselves.
He moved like fire bursting, like water flowing, like wind cutting, like earth collapsing.
And all of it, all of it, was one single movement.
Then, he was there.
Before Xal'zereth.
Not a blur, not a flicker, not a flash. Just… presence.
A thunderous boom shattered the sky, space bending, air compressing, clouds parting. Black-crimson streaks carved trails in the heavens behind him, still glowing in the wake of his arrival.
For a moment, just a moment, Xal'zereth remained still, suspended in the air like a specter carved from ivory, his obsidian robes fluttering beneath the force of residual pressure.
But his black-ringed eyes… twitched.
A flicker. Barely perceptible. But it was there.
A minute narrowing of one iris. A slight shift in his jawline. Subtle, but for a being of such surgical detachment, it was as close to a flinch as a Zorvan could manifest.
"Uncatalogued kinetic pattern. Impossible velocity vector. Inconsistent with known limits."
The words left him in a faint monotone, whispered more to the void than to Atticus. He began to process it with a kind of alien, calculated intrigue, his mind dissecting the moment, mapping trajectories, analyzing elemental imprints left behind by the movement.
"Fascinating…"
His gaze lingered on Atticus, not as one viewing a warrior, but as one observing a biological deviation of unprecedented nature.
"Four elements… synchronized under one emotional directive."
"No fragmentation. No elemental rejection. No internal collapse."
His voice rose.
"An anomaly."
But then, Atticus's katana surged upward.
There was no chant, no declaration. Just motion, refined, calm, and simple.
For so long, he had relied on nothing but pure mana when it came to his katana arts, because at the time, it was superior.
But now… now, he had something better.
His aura detonated outward, spiraling around him in a violent pulse.
The sky above howled as the dark crimson energy that enveloped him ignited along the blade, elemental force erupting from the edge in searing brilliance, a roar of molten wind, crushing weight, tidal pressure, and bursting flame, all channeled through steel.
The heavens split.
A single upward arc tore through the sky, cleaving clouds.
Then, the blade descended like a collapsing star.
Xal'zereth's eyes slammed back into focus. The analytical haze shattered.
For the first time in eons, he registered a potential threat that could not be calculated before it struck.
However, he realized, 'That energy… the resonance from earlier…'
A flicker of data surged across his thoughts. It was the same energy that had turned the paragons into nothingness!
His face twitched again, this time, more pronounced.
And then he spoke, his voice like glass over ice.
"A little surge of power… and suddenly you believe you're the sun."
The mana around him began to bend, drawn toward him, folding into spirals of structured light.
"But fire always burns brightest before it collapses into smoke."
He snapped his fingers.
A pulse radiated from him, a wave of order cascading outward in concentric rings.
The air stilled. The sky stilled. Mana twisted unnaturally.
And then the world responded.
The wind froze mid-motion. Fire burning in the distance snuffed out instantly. The trembling earth fell silent, still as stone. Water ceased to ripple, locked in unnatural calm.
Mana Control.
By the Alliance, the Zorvans were known as the overlords of mana. Their power revolved around the ultimate control of mana and its every property.
Aside from their overwhelming numbers, this was one of the reasons the war had lasted this long.
Xal'zereth had used this ability before, when he took control over the mana in the area. However, now, it was different. Stronger than before.
And everyone felt it.
It wasn't just the mana in the air that refused to listen to them, the mana within them had also gone stagnant.
They couldn't even control their own energy anymore.
It was the defining weapon of the Zorvans, the very proof of their superiority.
The Zorvans knew everything about humans and their bloodlines. To manipulate the elements, a human was required to make a connection with mana and then elemental molecules in the air.
Which meant, no mana, no resistance. No fight. No hope.
However, the next scene slammed into Xal'zereth with impossible force.
The black-crimson aura still roared around Atticus.
His form still pulsed with violent resonance, defying the suppression.
His speed hadn't faltered, if anything, it intensified. The very air still screamed in his wake. The world still recoiled, folding inward under his presence.
And his katana still descended like a falling star.
"…How?"
For the first time, Xal'zereth's eyes shot wide, the words slipping past his lips before his mind could suppress them.