During the class, Atticus’s focus was unbroken. The teacher was more explanatory than Whisker, which wasn’t a surprise, it was her job, after all.
Willart was simply imposing your thoughts on the world. It was only those who had reached the imposition stage in their will that could achieve such.
In theory, doing it was simple, but in reality, it was not. Laramie had proceeded to perform simple Willarts like forming an orb of bright light.
As the class attempted to copy, Atticus was pleasantly surprised to find out that so couldn’t. They tried and failed, the orb dispersing into the air.
Laramie didn’t seem to care and took it a step further. She created a ball of water that could burn like flas. A deeper concept, harder to replicate.
He soon noticed another thing. The deeper she got, the less the gods that could follow, until basically all the gods above the second row were unable to replicate what she did.
"To will an action into reality, you first have to understand every single thing about it," Laramie said calmly.
"So of you like to take ti to learn an art, but those like you will likely never go far. Arts at higher levels require far too many steps for you to currently fathom. If you can’t comprehend the processes of simple Will Arts at a glance, you won’t go far."
The hall had fallen deathly silent. From the clenched fists and twisted expressions on many of their faces, Atticus couldn’t help but get the sense that it wasn’t the first ti she had given this speech.
"I’m glad to see not all hope is lost." Laramie’s eyes were fixed on the people on the first and second row.
They were a handful compared to the sheer number of gods in the hall, but they were the only ones that had been able to keep up with the instructor, the elites.
They each had an umbrella of rainbow colored lights over their heads. It was the latest art they had copied from the instructor.
"...So new."
The gods saw her looking at the back of the class with narrowed eyes and followed her gaze to see the shocking scene of Atticus sitting down with the sa umbrella colored lights over him.
The eyes of many couldn’t help but widen, this ti even so of the gods seated in the front row seats.
Most of the gods present in class had been attending for centuries now. Trying to keep up with the instructor had always been a way of practicing their Willarts skills. Still, most of them couldn’t reach the end of her sequence.
Yet, a god that had only just joined the willhall today had done it?
’So it wasn’t a fluke.’ Scaela t Jarek’s gaze and nodded. She had been right earlier. He had copied a Viscount-ranked art by just seeing it.
’His comprehension speed is insane.’
It took a mont for the class to get going after that. Atticus kept on receiving stares from the other gods. He made sure to ignore them as usual, but they quickly beca annoying.
Unlike what they had thought, following the instructor was pretty easy for him. He saw through everything using Omnicognition and simply copied it. It was that simple and he didn’t feel like he had done anything special.
As the class ca to an end, Atticus had been mildly disappointed.
First was the fact that the class hadn’t been what he had been expecting. Only the instructor demonstrated Willarts, expecting the other gods to copy them and grow in proficiency.
Though they were ingenious, they were also basic. Not what he had expected to learn coming here.
As the instructor ended the class and left, Atticus didn’t waste ti and also walked out of the class.
"Easy," Jarek whispered, stopping Scaela who had been about to stand.
"What?" Scaela hid her groan. "I just wanted to leave. Class is over."
"Not with that look." Jarek wasn’t convinced.
"What look?"
He suddenly waved a hand and a mirror ford in front of him, reflecting her face. "This look."
Scaela looked at her reflection. A beautiful woman with a wide, creepy grin stared right back at her.
"This is just my normal smile."
Jarek gave her a long look. "You promised."
Scaela sighed. "Let’s just go."
...
Atticus decided to visit the library after leaving class. He read on more topics on the middle planes and focused on the things he’d missed.
After, he soon decided to leave the willhall.
’There’s no need to stay.’
Class was done for the day, and there wouldn’t be anything else until tomorrow. The only thing he could do was hang out and converse with other gods.
’That’s probably the true purpose of this school.’ Atticus pondered. The willhall was more of a social environnt than a school.
There were literally only two classes and the rest, one would have to figure out themselves at the library.
The true purpose was to make other gods et and, most importantly, clash.
Atticus made his way towards the gates of the willhall. According to Masner, he could leave and return whenever he wished. To him, there was no use in being here.
As he stepped out of the gates and made his way towards the top of the hill, he ca across a figure who seed to be waiting for sothing, or... soone.
"Hiya there!"
Atticus stared at the man quietly. He was about 6 feet, which was quite short compared to Atticus. His eyes were sharp and his brown hair unkempt. There was a certain... woody feel to him.
’Nature?’ Atticus narrowed his eyes.
"Who are you?"
The man cleared his throat and bowed slightly. "Ah, forgive my rudeness. I’m Lazio, a fellow god, like yourself."
"What do you want?"
If Lazio was baffled with Atticus’s blunt tone, he didn’t show it.
"With all the hate going around in the willhall, I assu you need a friend."
"And you’re that friend?"
"Well, I would hope so." Lazio smiled.
"Why would I trust you?"
"For a start, because I have information that will be of so use to you."
Lazio took Atticus’s silence as a go ahead to speak.
"Ever heard of the Burning?"
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