A genius in battle.
Those were four words. Four words that many would consider simple, yet their meaning was far from it.
To fully grasp the weight of those words, one had to look beyond their surface and delve into their rawest essence. The first…
Battles.
To the people of Eldoralth, who had grown up in a world filled with endless conflict, battles were not just clashes for survival or conquest.
They were entertainment— a celebration of strength that held a beauty all on its own.
There was something undeniably captivating about watching warriors meet on the battlefield, especially when the combatants were extraordinarily powerful and elite.
In those moments, the crowd would feel their hearts hammering, an irresistible surge of thrill, as if the very essence of battle coursed through their veins.
It was mesmerizing and electric, a frenzy that pulsed through the collective heart of the onlookers, connecting them to the brutality unfolding before them. It was as though they themselves were on the battlefield.
But after decades of constant battles ensuring, certain individuals soon stood out —a select few who redefined the very art of fighting. A select few who changed the way people viewed combat itself. These select people were called…
A genius of battle.
A genius in battle was not just skilled. He wasn't just elite, adept with handling weapons and fighting.
He was born to fight.
It was as though combat were an extension of his nature, a fluid language that needed no thought.
Every move, every strike, would always be executed with effortless grace, and every decision was instinctive. There would be not a single moment of hesitation in his movements.
To those watching, such a person would appear flawless.
"Flawless" was a term often thrown around, but here, in this instance, it fit like a blade in a sheath. Flawless.
And when one watches such a being in action, there was always the sequence. A sequence that blew minds.
An extremely complex, yet seamless blend of actions that eventually formed into something extraordinary.
To the untrained eye, to the masses, it might appear as nothing more than a blur of motions, a series of ordinary movements common in battles.
But to those who understood, those who had observed battles since birth, the sequence was akin to a dance.
Every step, pivot, and strike flowed into the next as if preordained by the heavens, each movement carving through the battlefield with an efficiency that defied measurement.
It wasn't the mark of someone who could see three steps ahead or needed to adjust mid fight. No. It was the mark of someone who had seen everything, because his every action was already the perfect response.
As soon as the green barrier came down, Atticus's latest sequence had been just that: flawless.
He had moved as though he knew everything that would happen, adapting to Karn's every shift with ease, each maneuver as natural as breathing.
He had found a loophole in the Nullite race's abilities and utilized it perfectly.
He had used the brief moment when Karn was shocked and clouded to land an attack that sent him flying.
He had taken that opening to trap him inside an impenetrable barrier, puzzling both Karn and the crowd watching.
Expanding on the confusion, he distracted Karn by forcing him to focus on a swarm of beasts, allowing him to launch a powerful, decisive attack.
And to sum it up, Atticus unleashed another lethal attack in the next instant; however, this time, he did something that blew the minds of everyone who understood what had just happened.
It was as though he had planned it from the beginning. He made the remnants of his will, which had lingered on Karn's cheek, explode at a critical moment.
It was a breathtaking sequence, one that left the crowd utterly stunned, breaths caught in their throats, unable to do anything but witness the genius unfolding before them.
However, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end— an end befitting the caliber of what had just transpired.
And for everyone watching, though many hoped it wouldn't happen, they all sensed the inevitable outcome. An outcome it deserved.
As Atticus's blade inched closer to Karn's neck, the reactions in the crowd varied, each one different.
Youn Voss, the paragon of the Nullite race, clenched his fist tightly— an unusual sight for a Nullite. They were a race that rarely displayed emotion. To them, everything in life was a task to be completed. There was no need for emotion, only to plan and act.
And yet, the shock Youn felt was just that profound.
All the other apexes who had managed to escape the death game were already healed to satisfactory levels. They stood on their respective balconies, their gazes focused intently on the screen, but exhaustion was apparent on their faces. The battles they had each undergone had been intense.
The other paragons of the superior races wore serious expressions. To them, it felt as if the impossible was happening.
The humans were already on their feet, hearts pounding, eyes wide as they counted the mere nanoseconds for Atticus's katana to reach its mark.
Every person was on the edge of their seat, the entire crowd utterly silent. But out of all of them, only one person wore a smile— Magnus.
For a sequence as beautifully executed as this, only one ending felt right. And that was exactly what happened.
Complete and utter victory.
A blinding golden light abruptly erupted from Karn's form, engulfing him in a radiant aura that pierced the sky with intense brilliance.
Atticus's blade, which had been mere millimeters from its target, suddenly halted. A surge of harmless force radiated from the golden light, sending Atticus flying backward.
He twisted in mid-air, regaining his balance, and hovered there, his molten eyes locked onto Karn's.
The intensity in Karn's gaze was fierce, and even as the golden aura began to dim, his eyes burned with a look that spoke volumes— this wasn't over.
Then, in a sudden burst of light, Karn's form vanished as he teleported away from the arena.
As the golden glow faded, a crimson radiance bathed the entire arena, and only one figure remained high in the air.
Atticus hovered, akin to a flaming deity with a katana in hand, his silhouette casting a fierce glow over the battlefield.
And then, every screen across the arena and domain flashed with a single announcement:
"Karn Voss is unable to continue the fight. The winner is: Atticus Ravenstein of the human race."
It took a moment.
One that felt like eternity. But given the gravity of the moment each one of them was trying to comprehend, the long pause felt necessary.
The announcement had been made in each race's respective language, yet it seemed as though many were struggling to read.
To many, the words felt surreal, as if the powerhouses had gathered together to pull an elaborate prank.
A human. A race that, when compared with the others on the planet, seemed insignificant.
A human had won a planet wide competition that only occurred once every ten years. And once the people comprehended those words…
The silence shattered.
The Ravensteins were first. They erupted in thunderous roars, cheers so intense they reverberated like tremors through Ravenspire.
Every single one of them shouted with every fiber of their being, even Anastasia. The competition was over, and so was her anxiety. Her son had won!
The air filled with a blend of all eight elements, each one painting Ravenspire in a mosaic of color.
And then, like wildfire, it spread.
The entire human domain erupted into a frenzy so wild, it was as if the very heart of humanity had roared to life.
In every corner of the cities, people poured into the streets, shouting, cheering, chanting Atticus's name.
People hugged, families cried and laughed, and hands reached skyward as though they were each trying to touch the victory he had claimed.
At the academy, every division exploded with cheers, roars echoing through the halls. Every instructor stood, hands clenched as their blood boiled. Jared was so close to the screen, it seemed he wanted to enter it.
Isabella couldn't help but smile, noticing her father, Harrison, subtly clenching his fists under his seat. His face appeared neutral, but the energy around him told a different story.
Across the entire human domain, the air was electric.
He had done it. He had actually fucking done it!
For the humans, this was a victory they would remember even after death. A victory for the ages—proof that, against all odds, they had risen to the top.
And at the heart of it all stood the one who had given them this moment, his image blazing across every screen.
His form, wreathed in flames, hovered high above, his molten eyes steady with an unshakable calm.
In that moment, a single thought formed in the minds of everyone watching.
He was the Apex of all Apexes.