Back on Earth, he had controlled spirit will thinking it was another energy source like mana. It was only after being introduced to the middle planes that he realized it was simply one amongst the countless wills that existed.
After that, the wills of the others he'd defeated and absorbed had always been in reach. But Atticus had never once used them, and for a good reason.
Burning was a true will, the strongest. Others were false wills.
And using other factions' wills would let their leaders spy on him.
'There's no need.'
The system hadn't bothered to include them because he had never used them.
Atticus soon focused his attention solely on his own will. He raised his palm and concentrated, feeling the heat as it converged around his arm. The air hissed, smoke rising.
His flas had turned liquid, looking like boiling crimson lava. The increase of his will had strengthened his power significantly. But Atticus couldn't help but wonder if this was all there was.
Absorb worlds, gain power. Was that truly what one should be focused on? Where was the end?
His mind recalled the silhouette with split flas.
'Mastery.'
He had always wondered the connection between mastery and will rank. While the latter focused on ultimate sturdiness and vastness, the forr, as Atticus just realized, focused on quality of will.
He hadn't even manifested yet, but he could feel the enormous power it held. It would push his will and strength to a whole new level.
Both were important. Atticus could feel it.
'Especially at the top.'
He had been neglecting his mastery since, but now he had every intention of taking it seriously. Atticus clenched his fist.
'Gain more power. Rise higher. Reach the peak.'
His eyes glowed red hot, and he released a steamy breath.
"How long do you plan on hiding?" he said suddenly.
Atticus opened his eyes as Anorah appeared before him in a flash of light.
"Stalker," Atticus muttered.
"Is it wrong for a woman to stalk her man?" Anorah folded her arms, staring him down. "Especially a man who doesn't seem to value his woman."
Atticus blinked.
"I don't value you?"
"Well, do you?" She raised a brow. "You ran away just to seclude yourself."
Atticus sighed, then smiled. "I'm sorry… I just needed a break from those dramatic people. I swear, I would've pulled my hair out if I heard one more Ozeroth and Ozerra argunt."
He stepped forward to hug her, but Anorah turned away with a pout.
"Here I was thinking you ca here for so… alone ti together. I even thought it was ti we finally…"
A jolt ran through Atticus' body. He swallowed.
Was she talking about what he thought she was talking about?
"…finally what?" he asked carefully.
"Never mind!" She waved a hand. "You wanted alone ti, right? You can have it."
She turned to leave, and panic shot through Atticus.
"Hold on, hold on! I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking. Will you forgive ?"
He breathed out in relief when Anorah paused.
'There's still hope.'
His eyes sharpened. Ti to act.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, fishing for anything romantic to say, imdiately regretting every idea the mont it ford.
"…b-baby, your love is the only thing that makes my will… uh… flare…"
Anorah froze. Then she gradually peeled his arms off, turned around to look at him, and burst into laughter.
"What? What the hell was that!?"
A surge of heat went up Atticus' neck. He looked away.
"I was trying to be romantic."
"That was you being romantic!?" Anorah bent over giggling, nearly wheezing. "Oh Ancients… Atticus, please, never again."
Atticus frowned.
"Alright, that's enough. It's not that funny."
"It's hilarious!"
Atticus cleared his throat as she continued laughing.
'Was it really that bad?'
He replayed the line in his head.
A second later, he nodded.
'Yeah. It's that bad. What was I thinking?'
He wished he could go back in ti and punch his earlier self in the throat.
Anorah finally straightened, eyes still sparkling.
"Happy now?" Atticus muttered. "How does it feel to make fun of your man?"
"Oh, it feels amazing. I see why you do it so often."
Atticus coughed into his fist.
"Well… as you were saying. It was ti we finally…"
"Ohh?" Anorah tilted her head, a teasing smirk forming. "Soone's impatient."
A surge of courage shot through Atticus.
"You can't bla ," he said softly. "My woman is just that beauti—"
His words disappeared as Anorah's lips crashed into his. He felt her warm lips and every worry lted away. When she pulled back, she bit her lip, her hands drifting lower and lower until…
Atticus stiffened, clearing his throat.
"Leave it to ." She whispered, and observed her lower herself. A mont later, the world around him blurred into nothing.
…
Ti went by fast in the count layer. During this, their territory was visited by several counts that had been led by the bounty on him.
It was during this ti that Atticus was truly grateful for the rules in place. None of them could enter or attack his territory. They each made their intent known, and challenges beca a common occurrence.
He had stuck to Whisker's suggestions, leaving each challenge until the last mont before he accepted it. This way, Atticus was able to prevent everything from becoming overwhelming.
During these free tis, he pushed his people hard, molding them into sothing truly fearso.
He ripped through each challenger after that.
There were tis where the generals fought, tis where his army fought. The the had been selected at random, still he won each one and grew his power.
But aside from his rapidly growing population and strength, there was still another advantage to eting multiple opponents.
Information.
Atticus had always known how prideful the gods were, but it was only now he understood the magnitude of their pride. Though it depended on the type of wills, they always sohow ran their mouths.
With this, he was able to find out nurous things. But the major highlight one thing; the major force of the Redflas had ascended to the Marquis layer.
User Comments
0 comments from readers