To Luther, everything he had just witnessed was hard to believe. He had heard that the human they were after had defeated Prince Zekaron while he was just at Interdiate rank.
Hearing that, Luther had imdiately dismissed it as bullshit, and truly it was. No one in their right mind would believe sothing like that.
He had believed that there was a mistake sowhere, maybe he had so help? That was what he believed.
However, his entire belief had just been shattered into countless pieces within the first few seconds of fighting this sa human.
It was hard to describe exactly what it was. Was he overwhelmingly powerful? Was he incredibly fast? Could he see into the future?
Those thoughts kept ringing in Luther's mind. Atticus's movents were swift yet not too swift that they couldn't react to it. However, Luther couldn't help but be baffled by the unfolding events. Just what was this human?
A sickening crunch suddenly resounded in the area, followed by Lucienta's figure being sent flying backward, brutally hitting the wall headfirst with a sickening thud.
Luther's expression changed. Ignoring the bulging pain in his right leg, a long bone-made sword suddenly ford in his hand, both hands gripping it over his head tightly.
Luther's stance shifted, his right leg stomping forward, his stance firming.
At dizzying speed, the bone-made sword descended downwards, cleaving the air toward Atticus's figure in the air.
After freeing himself from the notion that water only had one movent, it was as if a whole reservoir of knowledge had suddenly opened up.
Water could flow like a stream, moving smoothly and continuously, and at the sa ti, water could also surge forward like a crashing wave. But this was far from being the only thing water could do.
The nature of Atticus's movent changed, his body's montum suddenly shifting in a fluid motion, akin to the rapid change in direction of a swift current.
His figure abruptly shifted a few ters to his right, enabling him to evade the cleaving strike with mind-numbing agility.
But Luther wasn't done. His eyes were fixated on Atticus's figure in the air as though he had expected him to evade his strike.
Luther's gaze suddenly flashed, his aura exploding. Each of the red intricate lines on his skin suddenly lit up with a low glow that illuminated the area.
The bone-made sword he was holding suddenly turned to nothingness as both his fists clenched hard.
Instantaneously and without uttering a word, a staggering amount of bone-made spikes suddenly materialized in the air around Atticus, whizzing through the air from every conceivable angle toward Atticus.
'Shit!' Luther inwardly exclaid. He had been too carried away by the mont that he had inadvertently gone too far.
Regardless of whether Atticus had gotten one over on them, at the end of the day, he was still an Interdiate rank, a fact that was still shocking until now.
The Ossara family had been the rulers of the bone race before the war with the humans. Then, they were able to lead the entirety of the bone race because of their ability, the ability to create bones from nothingness.
It might seem like nothing to a lot of people, but to the people of the bone race whose lives revolved around bones, it ant everything. The other lineages could at most manipulate a certain aspect of it, which ant that without bones, they couldn't do anything.
Each one of the Ossara family mbers had this ability, so with more intensity than others. What Luther had just used was one of his strongest moves, a move that if it was soone of his rank caught in the sa situation Atticus currently was, there would be no escape.
Luther could very well see, despite it being unbelievable, that Atticus's movent speed and power were of the Interdiate rank; he couldn't be mistaken.
The only thing on Luther's mind was how he was going to relay the news to Spineus, who was waiting outside the building. Their job was only to check and see if their target was in the building. They weren't even supposed to engage!
Luther's thoughts were filled with panic, but he would have never expected what happened next to happen.
Water was flexible; it could take and mimic the shape of anything, it could move with massive and elaborate movent, and at the sa ti move with short bursts of speed.
Atticus's mind was clear, his whole being serene. Ever since the battle began, it was as though he was lost in a trance. He wasn't even focused on his two opponents again.
He didn't care about the panicked look on Luther's face as the bone spikes neared him, nor would he, if he could see them, care about the millions of students who were on the edge of their seats watching his screen.
There was only one thing on his mind: water.
Ever since he awakened his bloodline, Atticus had always thought that his ability to control multiple elents was a blessing and filled with all positives.
But because his powers had been restrained in this competition, with him having to only use a select few, Atticus was able to form a connection that he wouldn't have ford had he not been restricted.
This fact made him realize sothing: the fact that he had multiple elents right from the start was nothing more than limiting.
In just a few days, Atticus had made so much progress in his water elent than he had otherwise made in all the years he had it.
The elents weren't just a tool for him to manipulate; this was far from the end goal. You not only had to use it, you had to beco it.
And beco it was what Atticus did.
Once again, the nature of Atticus's movent suddenly shifted.
Akin to trickling water, Atticus moved.
He darted and weaved like a trickling stream, his movents quick and unpredictable, slipping through the gaps between the incoming bone spikes.
Trickling effortlessly, Atticus evaded the bone spikes from every direction.
Without missing a beat, the nature of Atticus's movent shifted once more.
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