The world paused.
The sounds of the thousands of youths all roaring on the top of their lungs abruptly quieted down.
The whole world went silent.
And then, Atticus's eyes flashed as his speed was increased to a level the academy cameras in the control room found it impossible to catch.
Atticus's form tore through the army of youths like a comet streaking across the night sky.
The very atmosphere struggled to keep pace, parting in tumultuous waves as his unparalleled speed defied the natural order.
In a blink, his form materialized at the rear lines of the youthful onslaught, leaving behind a trail of displaced air in his wake.
It took approximately 3 seconds for the atmosphere to register Atticus's actions.
In the first second, a blue streak with the unmistakable figure of a human carved a zig zag pattern through the army of youths tracing down to his current position, leaving an ethereal trace of his journey.
In the second second, thousands of large orb shaped mana bullets suddenly materialized in the air, orbs of mana poised to strike the chins, knees, and shoulder sockets of every single one of the thousands of youths.
In the last second. This was when the atmosphere finally registered all the actions.
Sound returned, and the world regained its motion.
The result was absolutely and completely brutal. Each one of the orbs of mana bullets found its mark unerringly, hitting each of the youths unfailingly in their chins, knees, and shoulder sockets in a devastating impact, as though a barrage of supersonic bowling balls had struck each point with unrelenting force.
Their chins immediately shattered, their knees crumpled, and shoulder sockets disintegrated.
Each of the thousands of youths, initially charging towards Atticus with fervor, found themselves in a sudden and brutal descent, their bodies colliding with the unforgiving earth.
The impact reverberated through the air, a symphony of bone chilling thuds and disoriented rolls that echoed across the battlefield.
The abrupt stillness was shattered by a chorus of piercing screams, rising in intensity and deafening in their despair.
Crimson hues spread across the ground as pools of blood spilled out from each of their bloodied forms, seeping into the soil.
More than one thousand youths, all 15 years old, all first years of the academy, were incapacitated in just one second by a single boy, Atticus Ravenstein.
Atticus turned his cold gaze towards the bloodied youths sprawled across the earth. The two weapons of brutality were tightly gripped in each hand, each emitting smoke out of their muzzles in response to the intense way they were just used.
Blood streamed out of all the youths across the earth. Their low rank, coupled with their low vitality, wasn't enough to keep up with this level of damage.
It was clear that Atticus had reduced the intensity of the mana bullets. Unlike the first time when he had used a higher intensity when he battled the youths Emeric was controlling and they had each been teleported immediately before the shots could even land, this time each of them experienced the full brunt of the mana bullets.
Atticus swirled both guns around with his fingers, their forms spinning rapidly as he put them into their holsters coolly.
Each of the youths kept screaming, the area getting drowned in their misery.
They all struggled to remain conscious, and just when it seemed that many would die of blood loss, a golden glow suddenly enveloped each and every one of the injured youths, Emeric, who hadn't stopped streaming blood from his orifices, included.
And then, with an intense glow, each and every one of them disappeared from the camp.
The area suddenly regained its silence.
Each of the non combatants who had just witnessed this spectacle felt their forms tremble as they gazed at the pools of blood of the youths they had left behind when they were transported away.
Hen couldn't help but clench his fist hard. 'This is power. The power to change everything,' he thought.
While Zara stared at Atticus's form with a normal expression. Her father had always told her one thing: adapt.
And what better way to do that than by forming a connection with this monster here? No one loved a life of poverty, a life of being powerless, and Zara was no different.
If Atticus here was her ticket out of that life, even if it was as a servant, she would hold onto it tightly.
The rest of the non combatants were instead completely stunned, not being able to utter a word.
Atticus suddenly took a step forward, and instantly flames erupted from beneath his feet, spreading out across the wide space the bloodied youths had been sprawled on.
The flames engulfed the pools of blood that had formed on the earth, instantly disintegrating it.
And then, Atticus simply started walking towards the control room, each of the non combatants immediately parting ways for him to enter.
After a few seconds of pondering, they each entered the control room, the door sliding to a close behind them.
...
Aurora's blazing form tore through the air as she propelled herself in the air with a cold look on her face.
Immediately, Atticus had given her the go-ahead to move; she had instantly acted, much to her disagreement.
'That bitch! I should have known that this was what he had been planning!' Aurora thought with a frustrated look on her face.
Throughout this battle, Aurora had just been sitting on the sidelines, not having faced even a single battle since it began.
'I hope there's at least some left.'
The plan had been very simple. Atticus had made multiple plans before he sent them all out of the camp.
Plan D comprised the opposing division attacking the camp, and when that happened, Aurora's duty was to return the favor.
Her form blazed through the forest, and after a few seconds, she got out of the foliage of trees and was instantly met with an imposing hill.