After days of trying his very best to completely avoid confrontations with them, Atticus reached a point where it didn't seem possible anymore.
The bone race warriors had basically swarmed the forest. Every now and then, it was very common to see a group of individuals in purple futuristic suits, heavily armed and on the lookout for any of the students.
Atticus and Aurora would find some kind of hiding space immediately after sighting any group, and after observing each group when they met, Atticus had discovered something odd.
Every single one of the warriors was in the advanced- rank. There was not even a single one that was lower or higher amongst them.
This led Atticus to make some assumptions about the situation.
'Considering the fact that the academy restricted the bone race from attacking us for one day, it should be fair to assume that there are other restrictions too,' Atticus's mind swirled as he and Aurora jumped silently from one tree branch to another.
They had adopted this method of movement because of the large number of patrolling bone race warriors on the ground. It was easier for them to avoid them this way.
'I wouldn't be too surprised if the academy had placed some restrictions on them that enable them to only send a particular rank of people after us for a time period,'
Atticus thought this was a reasonable assumption. If the whole society of the bone race was here, then they were sure to have at the very least a grandmaster rank individual.
If they were to send such a person after them, there was no argument, they were each thoroughly screwed. Every single one of them.
Atticus suddenly stopped and raised his right arm upwards, his fist clenched, causing Aurora, who had been following him, to also stop.
Atticus turned to look at Aurora, placing a finger on his mouth, and used his head to gesture downward where a group of individuals donned in purple suits were roaming about.
Aurora nodded her head, her gaze serious and filled with determination.
Before they had both set out to hunt the bone race warriors, Atticus and Aurora had had a little talk.
…
Back in the caves, a few moments ago,
"Aurora, have you killed before?"
Seeing the serious expression on Atticus's face, Aurora who had wanted to give a witty response, froze. She knew he was being serious.
Aurora silently shook her head as she instinctively started playing with her fingers.
Atticus maintained his serious expression, ignoring her obvious nervousness and continued, "What's your view on killing?"
"I-I don't know,"
Atticus maintained his stare on Aurora, not saying anything for a few seconds,
"That won't do, Aurora. You have to firm your mind from now so it won't be a problem later. The bone race are currently treating us as fugitives and I'm sure you already know, but they don't have any protection against death. When they die, they die for real.
"You can make excuses, say that they are a different race of people, but at the end of the day, they are still living beings, people. People with cultures, with aspirations, with families."
Atticus fixed his gaze on Aurora, who had turned to face downwards, unable to meet his gaze. It was very obvious she was uncomfortable with the topic. But he couldn't blame her; she was still a child.
The other tiered families made sure to train their heirs to be accustomed to killing, but Aurora had been different. She had only trained and had never taken a life.
Hesitation during battlefield was deadly, and Atticus didn't want someone he cared about to make that kind of stupid mistake.
Atticus closed the distance and suddenly held her hand, causing her to look up and meet his gaze.
Atticus flashed a small smile.
"When you kill, you're ending the life of someone with all of these things. You shouldn't make any excuses; it's pathetic. What you should do is accept it. Accept that you did this and also accept the consequences for doing it."
"I'm not going to force you to kill. It's entirely up to you. But unfortunately, the world we live in is cruel. In order to survive, you're going to have to do it sooner than later."
Atticus felt Aurora's hand clench around his before she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as though steeling her mind.
She knew well enough that this day would come, the day she would have to kill for real. No protection measure would activate, nothing. Thinking about the implications and how devastated she felt when her father died, it was truly nerve-wracking.
'But it's necessary,' Aurora steeled her mind, turning her gaze upwards, she gave Atticus a determined nod.
…
Seeing Aurora was ready, Atticus turned his gaze back towards the group of men. There were 8 in number, all Advanced- rank.
Atticus pointed to one of the men before pointing to Aurora, mouthing a 'He's all yours.'
Aurora fixed her serious gaze on the person Atticus had just pointed to, her figure in a crouched position.
And as Atticus gave the signal, a burst of fire erupted from her feet, her body shooting forward and reaching the body of the man Atticus had just pointed to.
Aurora's movement hadn't been subtle, not even close. As soon as the blast resounded, each of the men shot their gazes towards the direction it came from, but it was too late.
Aurora unleashed a punch, her fist coated in a raging storm of scorching fire as it blazed through the air, appearing inches away from her target's face.
The man only had time for both his arms to shoot up and form a cross before the punch landed with explosive force.
The man felt his arms buckle against the overwhelming force of the punch due to his abrupt block, the force of the punch shot his arms backwards and hit his head, sending him flying away into the distance.
Aurora instantly followed up. The fire beneath her feet exploded, her figure closing the distance once more.