Inside a dimly lit room, a lone figure could be seen sleeping on the bed. The room itself was devoid of any personal touches or decorations, giving it a stark and plain appearance.
The only sound breaking the silence was the steady ticking of a clock on the wall. As the clock's hands reached 4:30, the figure's eyes flickered open, as if programmed.
Atticus sat up, stretching and letting out a long, drawn-out yawn. After a moment, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, covering his mouth as he let out a smaller yawn.
However, he suddenly stopped, a sense of unease lingered in the back of his mind.
'Why do I have a bad feeling about today?' Atticus pondered for a moment. After some contemplation, he decided to dismiss the feeling and headed to the bathroom. He approached the wall-mounted mirror, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, and began brushing his teeth.
As Atticus looked at his reflection, he couldn't help but admire the changes he had undergone over the past six months at the camp.
His physical transformation was evident to anyone who had known him before. He had experienced a noticeable growth spurt, gaining several inches in height.
His physique had become more defined, with his muscles noticeably firmer and compact. The crowning achievement was the emergence of chiseled six-pack abs adorning his stomach, a testament to the rigorous training he had undergone.
However, it wasn't just his body that had undergone a remarkable transformation. Atticus's face had become the epitome of male beauty. His features were finely chiseled, with a jawline that could cut through stone.
His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a predatory gaze, like that of a fierce and determined hunter, giving him an aura of irresistible allure.
Atticus gave himself a smirk, revealing his pearly white teeth. "Damn, I'm handsome," he couldn't help but comment, letting out a chuckle as he continued brushing his teeth. Following his morning routine, he engaged in an hour of training.
After a few minutes, he left the training room, donning a casual outfit. "Let's see how much I've progressed," he thought and immediately muttered, "Status," causing a holographic interface to materialize in front of his face.
============
Character Profile:
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Name: Atticus Ravenstein
Age: 10
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Attributes:
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Strength: 60
Agility: 63
Endurance: 70
Vitality: 66
Intelligence: 23
Perception: 9
Charm: 20
Will: 4
Level: Intermediate+
Talent: Mythical
Bloodline: Primordial Elemental Bloodline
- Level 2
- Fire: 17.1%
- Air: 16.5%
- Water: 14.3%
- Earth: 16%
Abilities:
------------------------
Innate Skills:
* Conceal [Potential: Mythical]
- The ability to conceal your level from anyone regardless of rank. You may choose what level you want to be shown.
- Current mastery: Mythical
Life Weapon Skills:
* Transcendent Slash: Godspeed Grace
Normal Skills:
* Arcane Barrier [Potential: Transcendent]
- Current Mastery: Intermediate+
* Elemental Mimicry [Potential: Transcendent]
-Current mastery: Novice+
*Ethereal Clock [Potential: Empowered]
-Current mastery: Novice
=============
Atticus smiled as he gazed at his stats, relishing every increase in his strength. He thought to himself, 'I'm very close to breaking through to the Advanced rank.'
He had been relentlessly absorbing mana for months and the anticipation of this breakthrough excited him. He was looking forward to the changes it'll bring.
After checking his stats, he left his room and he entered the parlor, where he found Aurora lounging carelessly on the couch.
A trail of drool escaped from the corner of her slightly parted lips. The blanket was haphazardly draped over her torso, leaving her legs exposed.
Her right leg rested comfortably on the couch, while her left leg dangled over the edge, reaching towards the floor. Atticus couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
Over the past two months, since their encounter with Finn, Rowan hadn't bothered them again. Atticus had his suspicions about the reason but ultimately decided to let it go. He believed the reason was obvious, but he had made a promise to protect Aurora, and he intended to keep it, no matter what.
Atticus materialized a bead of water from his palm and shot it towards Aurora's face while she was sleeping soundly on the couch.
The droplet hit her face, causing her to jolt awake, disoriented and caught off guard. She tumbled off the couch, landing on the floor with a surprised "What?" as she tried to clear her drowsy eyes.
Blinking away the sleep, she looked around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Atticus couldn't help but chuckle at her bewildered state. "We're going to be late for training, sleepyhead."
Aurora's eyes narrowed as realization dawned on her; he had poured water on her.
"You!" With a swift motion, she channeled her bloodline power, turning the water into steam in an instant. She swiftly dashed towards Atticus, who was still chuckling, and already moving away, determined to teach him a lesson.
"Come back here!"
After a few minutes, they both made their way to the training grounds. Today was the day of the combat challenges, and the trainees were determined to change their ranks.
They were all already waiting at the training grounds, intending to get through the course swiftly and focus on their challenges. Each of the trainees had adapted remarkably during these two months, with each radiating an aura incomparable to when they first entered the camp.
Atticus found Lucas and Nate and greeted them with a nod. Nate appeared really calm today, standing at the forefront of the trainees, not saying anything, with a calm look on his face. Atticus didn't even need to ask to know what he was thinking about.
After a few moments, Elias arrived at the training grounds. "Listen up!" he said. Hearing him speak, the trainees all stiffened. Why was he addressing them? They knew it was usually bad news when Elias addressed them.
"Damn," one of the trainees muttered, which seemed to represent the mood of all the trainees.
Elias smirked and continued "Once again, you've all adapted wonderfully this past months. Good job," he praised. About 50% of the trainees we're able to make it down the finish line now.
Every single trainee in the training ground started grunting and shivering hearing his words. They knew where he was heading to.
Elias's smile widened, "Yes, get ready for a change tomorrow. I'm only giving you the grace of today because of your combat challenges."
The trainees all let out a sigh of relief, at least he wasn't totally evil!
Elias chuckled at their reactions; he always loved teasing the youths. "Now move! We don't have all day," he instructed, and the trainees listened, starting to run up the mountain.
….
In a spacious forest clearing, a massive imposing ship stood. Before the ship's open cargo door, a procession of individuals had lined up respectfully on either side, creating a clear path inside.
At the far end of this line, an inconspicuous platform suddenly emitted a bright green glow and two men materialized on the platform and descended from it.
The first man had a commanding presence, and an unsettling aura seemed to emanate from him, sending shivers down the spines of those nearby.
He had a crown of lustrous black hair, neatly styled and flowing down to his broad shoulders. His well-groomed goatee framed his serene face, and he wore a traditional Chinese robe that draped gracefully around his body.
This man was Alvis, the head of the Obsidian Order branch in sector 3.
The second man had jet-black hair that cascaded like a raven-hued waterfall, framing his sharp features with an almost regal allure. His green eyes burned with an intense fire.
Each strand of his hair seemed to carry a hint of the wind's whisper, indicating his mastery of an elemental power. This man was Ronad, the head of the Obsidian Order in sector 4.
As soon as they appeared, everyone present greeted them in unison with bowed heads, exclaiming, "We greet the branch heads!" However, Alvis and Ronad continued moving forward as if not acknowledging the greetings.
Alvis wore a cold expression, clearly in a bad mood. Ronad noticed this, smirked and remarked, "Oh, stop brooding, Alvis. We were eventually going to go to war with them. Isn't it better it happened earlier?" he said with a smile.
Alvis glanced at Ronad, clearly dissatisfied. "Do you know the amount of resources and lives we lost in this war that you involved all of us in without any warning? It was a lot! I lost a quarter of my forces in sector 3, each with strength that will be useful on 'the day'!" he retorted.
Ronad frowned. "So what were you expecting me to do? Allow the killer of my son to go scot free?" he replied.
"Yes, that was exactly what you should have done; leave it be. They were all going to die eventually, you set back the order with your actions," Alvis replied sternly.
Tensions flared briefly, and both men released their auras, but before it could escalate further, Hugo approached with a differential bow. "We're ready, Master Alvis," he said.
This interruption diffused the tension, causing Ronad to turn away with a snort, and Alvis retracted his aura.
Alvis turned his gaze to Hugo. "Good. As soon as he activates the artifact, get us there immediately," he ordered. Hugo nodded and bowed.
Without further ado, they entered the ship, with Ronad's laughter echoing in the air.
"Finally! After all the trouble those white-haired bastards have caused us, we're going to hit them back where it hurts! Hahaha."
***
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