Azakarn's frown deepened and his aura suddenly changed. "Hmm, how unfortunate," he murmured. "It seems you're dead set on your decision. Selfish."
"You're only looking at this from your own narrow perspective, Apex Atticus. Here we stand, a united alliance that has given you protection and a safe environnt to grow. And yet, you avoid your duties and ignore the responsibilities expected of you. You disregard the sacrifices others have made, all to follow your own selfish desires."
The room was silent, and the tension was thick. Atticus's hands were clenched tightly. He knew where this was going; this had been Azakarn's plan all along.
The man had anticipated his refusal—no sane person would ever agree to such terms. Stay and train in the domain of a race whose apex he had nearly killed?
If he accepted, there were only two outcos: he'd either be killed by so 'accident' or forced into submission. It was only a matter of ti.
But in refusing, Azakarn was now turning the situation against him. This was no longer about logic. It was about power. Whatever Azakarn claid, whatever he said, would be law.
Azakarn's expression grew colder. "It seems you're a wild card that the alliance cannot trust to fulfill your role."
Suddenly, a shimring, golden parchnt appeared in Azakarn's hand.
"You will perform your duties and remain loyal to the alliance. You will participate in the ongoing war and follow the orders of the alliance. These are the clauses of the mana contract, which you will sign."
"This is not a suggestion, Apex Atticus. It's a command."
The killing intent in the hall surged as the lightning around Atticus crackled fiercely. The tension in the hall was nearing its breaking point.
A spear appeared in Magnus's hand, his eyes glowing a brilliant white, arcs of electricity surging from him.
Luminous's aura blazed a searing golden light, turning the air scorching.
Seraphina and Thorne, too, released their auras, each one of their gazes icy and focused on Azakarn.
It was too much.
He was literally demanding they hand over their greatest talent and submit him to the alliance's orders.
Listen to the alliance's orders? They ruled the alliance! This was essentially asking him to beco their slave.
It was so outrageous that it was shocking Azakarn had actually said it. Shaless! Yet, it was the reality of the world. He had power, and whoever held power ruled the world.
The paragons of the Dragon and Aeonians couldn't help but clench their fists beneath their chairs. They knew this was all wrong.
They knew they owed the human apex for what he had done. They knew all this, yet none of them could interfere. Power was everything, and they didn't have enough of it.
Atticus's gaze shifted, sensing several overwhelming presences erging around the hall.
'Paragons,' he instantly deduced. And they were all Dinsari, standing at the ready.
'They assured our safety, huh,' he thought bitterly.
Yes, they had assured their safety, but it was clear the terms could easily be twisted. The Dinsari could choose to block any escape, trap them in an alternate space, and exert their power without clashing directly. Their abilities granted them that terrifying advantage.
Just as Atticus was lost in thought, two figures stepped forward to stand by his side. He turned and saw Drakthanion and Ae'ark, both with serious stares fixed on Azakarn. They didn't say anything, but their intentions were clear.
The gazes of the Dragon and Aeonian paragons widened in shock.
"Ae'ark!" the Aeonian paragon called out.
"Drakthanion!" The Dragon paragon's voice was heavy, yet neither of them turned to acknowledge their ntors.
Drakthanion's pride wouldn't allow him to cower when the one who had saved him was now in danger. And Ae'ark was never one to leave a debt unpaid; Atticus had saved him from being killed by Karn. Although it had been indirect, Atticus had still been the root cause of his survival.
Azakarn's expression remained the sa, as if he didn't care about the others stepping forward. In fact, he preferred it this way.
"Hmm, looks like we have more than one wild card."
With a wave of his hand, two more mana contracts appeared, their golden forms shimring. He repeated the sa clauses he had given to Atticus. Mid-race, lower race—it was all the sa to him.
The Dragon and Aeonian paragons shot up from their seats, but neither imdiately stepped forward.
"They're still children; they don't know what they're doing," Ae'zard of the Aeonians tried to reason, but Azakarn was unmoved.
"Children or not, they need to learn that actions have consequences."
"Then I apologize, but we can't accept that."
Both paragons disappeared from their seats, reappearing beside the group below, their auras unleashed.
At this point, only the superior races were still seated on their thrones, but despite this, a small smile appeared on Azakarn's face. This was better than he had hoped.
Now he could force both mid and lower races to sign the contracts.
The other superior race paragons sat quietly, observing the situation. They clearly had no intention of intervening. To them, this was a win regardless, as the apexes would be forced to serve the alliance.
Atticus could feel the space elent in the air thickening; the Dinsari were already preparing to trap them.
'Is there no other choice?' Atticus's mind raced through every option, his chest tightening. This was the outco he had feared most, and now it was becoming reality.
He had briefly considered blaming the death match on Carius to try to shift the conversation, but it wouldn't end well for him.
The apexes had all agreed to stay silent about the matter due to their ties to their origins. Besides, the Dinsari held the power here. They could easily deny it and turn the whole situation against him.
A mana contract might have revealed the truth, but he couldn't rely on the paragons present to enforce it on the Dinsari. The only paragons likely to support that approach would be those whose apexes had died during the death match, and they weren't present. Pushing that angle would simply want the Dinsari to silence them, creating an even more dangerous situation.
His fists clenched hard, and his eyes blazed with fierce resolve. He had no intention of signing that mana contract, but that didn't change the fact that they were outnumbered. Was this the end?
Just as the tension reached a breaking point, pressing down on everyone present, a light, almost casual voice broke through.
"Heeyya!"
Every gaze—superior, mid, and lower races alike—snapped up, their eyes landing on the figure of a handso man.
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