"Pardon?" Viktor's voice was filled with nothing but shock.
"…"
'Right, he doesn't like repeating himself.' Viktor shook his head, his expression darkening.
'Is he actually serious?' He really hoped not.
"Yes, I'm serious."
With Atticus's ability to sense intent and his incredible perception, predicting what Viktor was thinking was easy. However, the latter didn't take it that way.
A surge of shock churned within him as he wondered if Atticus had just read his thoughts.
'I wouldn't put it past him.' Considering everything the child had done, the weird thing would be if he couldn't.
Atticus sighed.
"Maybe this will make you understand."
A wave spread out from him, oppressive.
Viktor's gaze widened. He felt an intense chill, so sharp that his body became as solid as ice.
'B-Battle intent.' He identified it immediately.
However, it was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. It was so potent that Viktor felt as though he were staring directly at death itself.
"Will you attack, or should I?"
Atticus's voice sounded like the harbinger of doom, each syllable sending jolts of shock through Viktor.
His expression hardened as he realized the current situation.
'Shit.'
"I'll attack then."
Viktor's eyes widened to the extreme, yet they still failed to catch Atticus's movements.
Then—
BAM.
An overwhelming force slammed into his chest, the impact so powerful that his entire body hurtled backward, smashing through trees like a ragdoll.
The sheer momentum carried him through the dense forest, his body crashing violently against the earth.
Pain surged through him.
His mind had barely processed what had just happened when—
WHAM.
Another blow struck the side of his head.
The world spun violently, his vision blurring as his body was launched sideways, crashing into the dirt.
Viktor's breath hitched, his lungs screaming for air. His vision reeled, the sheer force of the attack still vibrating through his bones.
But despite the overwhelming impact, he forced himself upright, sucking in a sharp breath.
His expression darkened.
Then—
His crimson eyes ignited.
His face twisted, and tendrils of flame erupted all around him, dancing wildly as his fury took shape.
The searing heat warped the air, and the trees surrounding him immediately turned to ash, their forms disintegrating into the wind.
Then, with a single step, black-crimson fire exploded outward. The sheer intensity of the heat scorched the very atmosphere, distorting reality.
Viktor landed, his blazing crimson eyes locked onto Atticus, who stood calmly at a distance, watching with a glint of intrigue in his mismatched eyes.
'So this is Hell's Fire,' Atticus thought, the corners of his lips curling slightly.
Even from afar, he could feel it.
The flames' effects on him were practically nonexistent, yet he could sense them slowly trying to gnaw away at his stamina, trying to drain him.
But not only that—
'It's attacking my will.'
Well, attack was an over-exaggeration. Atticus's will was so intense that Viktor's couldn't hope to affect it.
But his mind sharpened at the realization.
This was no ordinary flame.
It did more than burn.
It consumed.
It corroded.
It subjugated.
Atticus's eyes glinted.
"I want it."
His mismatched eyes shifted, becoming uniform, turning into an intense purple.
With a mere thought, his perception expanded, his gaze analyzing the fire, tracing its mana signature as it unfolded before him.
Meanwhile, Viktor was already far gone.
The demon race was one of chaos and destruction, their very nature designed for war, ruin, and dominance.
And in this moment, due to the situation, Viktor had succumbed.
A deep, guttural growl left his throat as his crimson-black flames surged violently, expanding outward like an infernal storm.
His horns lengthened, twisting slightly.
His fingernails extended into dark, jagged claws.
Then—
He moved.
A single burst of speed, and he shot toward Atticus, slashing fiercely.
SWIPE.
Atticus evaded.
Another slash.
Atticus sidestepped, his gaze calm, analyzing.
Viktor snarled, his feral eyes locked onto Atticus, his claws ripping through the air.
But Atticus remained untouchable.
Each strike missed. Each claw swiped through empty space. No matter how fast or relentless Viktor attacked, Atticus remained just beyond his reach.
His purple eyes flickered.
Then, Atticus's lips curled ever so slightly.
"Got it."
At that exact moment—
Viktor came slashing down.
Atticus evaded, pivoting smoothly.
Then—
THWACK.
A swift, precise strike landed against the back of Viktor's head.
The demon's eyes flickered.
Then, darkness consumed him.
His body slumped, crashing into the earth, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Despite the literal hell he had just put Viktor through, Atticus was all smiles.
He had seen it. Memorized it.
The mana signature of Hell's Fire.
Now, he just had to replicate it.
But just as he was about to settle into his thoughts—
"What does a handsome king have to do to get some sleep around here?!"
Atticus's brows twitched.
Then—
CRASH.
A boulder came hurtling down the mountainside, barreling straight toward him.
Without lifting a finger, the moment it reached him—
THUD.
The boulder slammed against an unseen barrier, shattering into countless pieces.
Atticus rolled his eyes.
"Idiot."
Where most would have simply waved a hand or ignored the disturbance, Ozeroth had thrown a boulder to get rid of the noise.
Shaking his head, Atticus chose to ignore the crazy spirit.
Instead, he turned his attention back to Viktor.
With a small effort, he lifted the unconscious demon and rested him against the base of a tree.
Then, without another word—
Atticus sat down, crossing his legs.
His breathing steadied.
His eyes closed.
And he began to meditate.
Meanwhile, while Atticus attempted to replicate what he had just seen, another conversation was taking place.
Voren stood rigidly, his fists clenched as he glared up at the massive tree before him.
Perched atop its highest branch, Colonel Zenon sat with an amused expression, his entire skin having shifted to match the texture and color of the tree.
He blended so seamlessly into the bark that if not for the wide grin stretched across his face, one might have mistaken him for part of the tree itself.
His golden eyes gleamed, filled with mirth as he tilted his head slightly.
"Repeat what you just said."