The world went silent.
Every pair of eyes stared wide in utter disbelief. The bluish-purple slash continued carving through the horizon, leaving behind a trail of devastation so profound it seemed like the world itself was being split apart.
For a brief moment, no one dared to breathe, the silence thick and suffocating. The killing intent emanating from the grandmasters, that had blanketed the area, dissolved like sugar in water.
But what replaced it was far worse.
It was akin to the shockwave of a nuclear explosion. A killing intent so potent it caused every grandmaster in the area to shudder erupted from Atticus, saturating the air with suffocating intensity.
Everyone froze, their minds short-circuiting as they forgot how to think. They each knew what they were, a bloodthirsty group who had unleashed massacres and killed thousands. Fear wasn't foreign to them. But they had always been the one inflicting it. Yet now, it was the only thing they could feel.
From high above, Veylor's gaze trembled.
They had been wrong. They had been so wrong.
Atticus's powers were beyond anything they had assumed. His victory in the Nexus had been based on pure skill. This was the reality. This was the Apex of humanity.
Despite the shock that filled the air, Atticus's calm gaze remained fixed on Veylor high in the sky. As their eyes met, Veylor's instincts screamed at him.
They couldn't afford to waste time.
Atticus had seen them, and he would kill them.
Veylor's gaze darkened, his voice thundering, shaking the very air.
"Don't hold back anything! Attack him with everything you have!" His command echoed across the desolation, vibrating like the drumbeat of war. His tone peaked into a roar.
"NOW!"
The world snapped back into motion.
The grandmasters shook off their fear, hands clenched, teeth gritted, before erupting in unison. Their spiritual energy ignited like an inferno, lighting up the battlefield.
Multiple purple beams shot into the sky, piercing the heavens like apocalyptic beacons. The ground quaked and splintered as an overwhelming surge of spiritual energy flooded the area, shaking the very foundation of the earth.
The atmosphere turned oppressive, as though the world itself was preparing to collapse under the weight of the grandmasters' combined might.
Their voices reverberated like thunder as they roared in unison,
"Manifest!"
The air rippled and twisted as the grandmasters activated their ultimate powers. A blinding flash of light erupted from their chests, and their bonded spirits burst forth, expanding into towering, domineering forms.
Each spirit radiated an aura so intense it felt as though gravity had multiplied a thousandfold.
The battlefield transformed. Where one spirit landed, a lush forest erupted, ancient trees stretching skyward and covering the earth in green.
Where another landed, a storm surged, black clouds churning as lightning tore across the sky, rain pouring down on the earth.
A third spirit turned the ground to molten rock, lava bubbling and hissing as flames danced wildly across the battlefield.
Each spirit reshaped the landscape into their own domain, their elemental powers clashing and mixing, creating a chaotic, apocalyptic battlefield.
The grandmasters stood side by side with their spirits, their combined presence crushingly overwhelming.
In Eldoralth, reaching the grandmaster rank meant mastering one's power to an extraordinary degree. For most elementalists, this mastery manifested as a domain, an ability that allowed absolute control over their element within a certain range.
But the Starhaven family was different. Their powers weren't tied to elemental domains but to their spiritual energy and the connection to their bonded spirits.
For the Starhaven, achieving the grandmaster rank required reaching a point where their spiritual energy, combined with their bond, could physically manifest their spirits in the material world.
When this happened, the environment transformed into one where their spirits thrived, reshaping the battlefield into a realm tailored to their spirit's power. The spirits, now fully realized, would fight alongside their partners in Eldoralth.
This was the power of the Starhaven grandmasters.
As the spirits manifested in their full forms, towering behind their partners, their presence was overwhelming.
From the very beginning, ever since the spirit had heard about Ozeroth's interest in Atticus, an enemy to their king, they had wanted to eliminate him.
They were in Eldoralth for their reasons, and had never cared about Atticus having the potential to raise the humans to the top. If anything, he was a threat to their goals.
Thus, it was no surprise when the spirits, often seen as serene and benevolent, unleashed a staggering wave of killing intent that saturated the air.
In unison, their gazes locked onto Atticus.
But he was gone.
For a split second, silence descended. Confusion spread through the spirits and grandmasters.
Their eyes darted around, auras flaring as they scanned the battlefield. Where had he gone?
The silence pressed down on them, their hearts pounding.
Then, their gazes snapped back to where he had stood moments ago.
He was there.
Standing exactly where he had been, calm, unmoving.
The confusion only deepened. What was happening?
But not everyone was confused.
One of the twins behind Veylor trembled, his wide, glowing eyes filled with fear. His spirit, Void Owl, was a tier-5 spirit with an ability to slow down time within a specific range for a brief moment.
He had activated the ability the instant they reached the sky. Though it had been blurry, he had seen it.
He had seen him.
Atticus had moved.
Not just moved, he had crossed the entire circle of grandmasters surrounding him in an instant.
And no one noticed.
The twin's scalp turned numb, and his lips trembled as realization struck.
"Th-they're dead," he whispered, his voice breaking.
As his words echoed across the underground world, it happened.
A faint bluish-purple slash appeared in the air, cutting through the ranks of the grandmasters and their spirits simultaneously.
The glow streaked across their bodies, leaving behind destruction in its wake.
The grandmasters froze, eyes wide in shock, as thin lines of light appeared across their bodies and those of their spirits.
The realization hit like a hammer: they were already dead.
Without warning, every grandmaster split cleanly in two, their bodies falling to the ground with sickening thuds.
Their spirits suffered the same fate, their towering forms cleaved in half, their domains collapsing as they dissolved into scattered motes of light.
In a single moment, thirty grandmasters and their spirits were annihilated.
The battlefield, once filled with tension and killing intent, became utterly silent.
All eyes turned toward the cause of it all.
Atticus stood exactly where he had been, calm and untouched, his blade still glowing faintly with residual energy.
Yet the killing intent emanating from him only intensified, filling the air with suffocating pressure.
His eyes lifted upward, locking onto Veylor, who hovered above, his face frozen in shock.
But just as Atticus was about to move, Elder Lorthan's voice boomed across the battlefield.
"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU KILL THE SPIRITS!"