A thought crossed Atticus' mind, and he spoke.
"…Having unquestionable confidence in yourself."
"Correct."
The Pride Queen nodded slowly, golden light shimring within her eyes.
"True pride is absolute faith in yourself. No doubt. No hesitation. The opinions of others beco aningless. In this world, you stand above everything."
An overwhelming aura of supremacy flooded the tent.
"Ozzy and Ozra ca from . They are my pride."
Her golden eyes blazed brilliantly.
"Doubting them is the sa as doubting myself. I have unquestionable faith in their choices."
Atticus remained silent for several monts before slowly nodding.
"I see."
He had finally gained a glimpse into what the Pride Queen truly embodied. After a brief silence, he asked,
"This is why you've been dragging Ozeroth and Ozerra around the battlefield with you?"
The Pride Queen nodded.
"My children are my pride, but they still seek validation from others. They are not yet absolute." Her gaze sharpened slightly. "That is why their Wills remain weak. They do not yet fully embody Pride."
In that case… once Ozeroth reached that state, would his Will undergo a transformation?
'That would be good.'
Although Ozeroth possessed the strength of a Level Seven just like him, he still could not fight beyond his rank the way Atticus could. Especially against a powerful Will such as Crown Will.
A mont later, the Pride Queen suddenly spoke.
"You did well."
Atticus frowned slightly.
"Hm?"
"During the eting," There was a faintly proud look within her eyes. "…you didn't let that fool's words affect you. If I didn't know any better, I'd say your Will was Pride."
The words brought a faint smile to Atticus' face. He had never particularly cared about complints. However, during the ti he had spent with the Pride Queen, she had never once praised anyone, not even her own children. Sohow, he could feel the weight behind those words.
Within the silence of the tent, Atticus made a joke.
"…maybe it is."
…
The battle was set to take place the following day.
The sun hung high overhead, bathing the land in pale scarlet.
Atticus stood at the edge of a cracked wasteland. Behind him, rows upon rows of armored soldiers stood in perfect formation. Their golden armor reflected the crimson sunlight in sharp flares, radiating an oppressive pressure that saturated the air with tension.
The Pride Queen stood beside him expressionlessly. Clad in flowing golden robes, she radiated a pressure that surpassed even the army behind her.
She calmly slipped a hand into her sleeves and pulled out a thick brown cigar. The tip ignited instantly. She took a deep drag before gradually exhaling a stream of smoke into the air.
Atticus stared at her oddly.
"…you smoke?"
"Sotis," she replied, taking another drag. "Usually before sothing entertaining happens."
Sothing entertaining… there was little doubt about what she ant.
"…You say that like you're about to watch a festival."
"A massacre can be entertaining too."
She exhaled another stream of smoke before extending the cigar toward him.
"Want so?"
Before Atticus could even respond, he already felt the sharp glares from Anorah and Anastasia. He sighed inwardly. He had never intended to accept it in the first place.
"…no."
The Pride Queen rely shrugged before offering it toward Ozeroth instead. Ozeroth stared at the cigar for a long mont before ultimately shaking his head. Ozerra did the sa.
The Pride Queen smiled faintly before giving an approving nod.
Over the past few days, she had drilled into them everything Pride embodied. Now, Ozeroth carried a far more restrained deanor. Though confidence still naturally radiated from him, the earlier bravado and constant desire for validation had disappeared.
Atticus found the change refreshing, to say the least. He had spoken with Ozeroth yesterday and had been genuinely surprised by the difference. Still, he had yet to witness the changes within Ozeroth's Will directly.
'After this.'
Atticus made a ntal note.
He turned toward the others. Everyone, even Anastasia, surprisingly enough, wore calm, confident expressions. None of them appeared remotely worried about the battle ahead. Only Freya looked different, excitent blazing openly within her eyes.
When he had announced the battle yesterday, she had nearly exploded with excitent at finally getting to witness him fight soone powerful. It would be the first ti.
The ground suddenly trembled faintly.
Atticus narrowed his gaze toward the horizon. Another army was approaching. Perfectly aligned ranks. Gleaming armor. A massive cloud of dust billowing in their wake. Every synchronized step sent tremors rippling across the wasteland.
The army of the Ether Kingdom.
A massive palanquin towered above the marching forces. Seated atop it was the king of the Ether Kingdom himself, radiating overwhelming regality. His enormous crown shone like a miniature sun, flooding the battlefield in golden brilliance.
Marching beside him were warriors radiating oppressive pressure. Seven gems were embedded within each of their crowns. His generals.
Their combined presence plunged the entire battlefield into suffocating pressure.
"Well…" The Pride Queen puffed out smoke with a faint smile. "Go have fun."
Without uttering a word, Atticus stepped forward. Clad in a simple white robe with an unassuming katana strapped to his waist, his appearance was the complete opposite of regal.
Yet the mont he moved, bloodlust erupted from him, swallowing the approaching army.
The army halted. Even the generals froze in place. Armor began clattering endlessly as billions gazed toward Atticus with trembling eyes.
The king's gaze constricted. His crown suddenly blazed with golden light, engulfing the army in radiant brilliance. Their trembling ceased almost imdiately as they regained control over themselves.
The king stared at Atticus with a darkened gaze. Such terrifying bloodlust…
He scoffed inwardly.
'Two can play that ga.'
"Impose."
A blanket of golden brilliance exploded from him, surging toward Atticus and the army behind him.
It reached Atticus.
Then dispersed.
The king's eyes widened. Crown Will imposed absoluteness upon the world. Those affected would instinctively regard the wielder as supre. They would hesitate. Bow. Waver.
Yet Atticus had broken the Imposition? A re Level Seven?
"Fine then."
The king blasted from his seat, crashing heavily into the wasteland below. Dust exploded violently in every direction. As it slowly settled, he tore away his ceremonial robes, revealing a massive bare-chested fra lined with rippling muscle.
When he spoke, his voice resembled the growl of a beast.
"I'll personally remind you where your place is."
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