"Begin."
"Sundering storm."
The air before Atticus split open, an intense gale detonating outward as he erased the distance in a blur.
Heat rippled from his will, shimmering the air around him before erupting into a blazing storm that slammed into the sentinel like a collapsing sun.
The sentinel’s eyes widened, but Atticus’ katana was already drawn.
The storm collapsed onto the blade, its scorching gale whipping so violently around it that the air twisted with distortion. Then he thrust, the force carving a vacuum in its wake as it tore toward the sentinel.
The others moved in perfect unison behind him. Their wills flared violently as they appeared before their opponents, each attack ripping forward with unrestrained momentum.
Atticus caught the shock in all their eyes. It was only natural.
Not even a full second had passed since the battle began, and they had already committed their full strength.
His mind flicked briefly to his conversation with Whisker the day before. Whisker had suggested a plan to counter the Willguard, one that would render their technological advantage meaningless.
But it all depended on a single condition: the challenge had to be a direct battle.
Everything had aligned. The theme had been exactly what they needed.
Now it was simply time to enact the plan and end this challenge before it even began.
The strategy was simple, brutally so. The instant the battle started, strike with everything and finish it before the Willguard could respond.
Now Atticus had unleashed the fourth art, compressed into a single, absolute attack designed to pierce anything in existence.
He abandoned every habit, every calculated pause, every measured observation, every conservative reserve of strength.
He placed everything into this one strike.
It was all or nothing.
’It’ll work.’
Atticus condensed the storm even further, its pressure releasing a piercing hiss that seared the air. The sentinel and his champions raised their arms, their wills churning instinctively just as the attacks landed.
For an instant, the world fell dead silent.
Then a small orb of light formed at the point of impact, swelling with each moment until it erupted into a chain of explosions that swallowed thousands of kilometers.
’It hit him.’
Atticus’ eyes cut through the thick smoke blanketing the earth. His strike had connected, he felt it.
The sentinel had thrown up a shield, but the attack had been too condensed, too absolute. A rushed defense couldn’t possibly withstand it.
He’d felt his blade break through. He’d felt it hit flesh.
’He’s still alive.’
By all logic, the attack should have killed him. The sentinel should have been erased. Yet the challenge still persisted, meaning the man had somehow survived it. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚
’Where is he?’
Atticus spread his senses, reaching through the lingering distortion to grasp at any trace of will. If the strike had wounded the sentinel, fragments of his will should still cling to the injury.
His head snapped to the side.
’There.’
A single thought, and a wave of force blasted outward, sweeping the haze aside in one motion.
Magnus and the others landed quietly around him, but Atticus didn’t spare them a glance. His eyes were locked on the far horizon, on the impossible sight unfolding there.
Their combined attack had remade the landscape entirely.
A canyon, long, deep, and violently carved, scarred the world like a wound left by a god. But none of that mattered as much as the figures hovering above it.
The sentinel and his champions floated over the crevice, glaring at them with pure, unfiltered hatred.


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