Chapter 72 Atticus Vs Aurora
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This fight was what everyone had been waiting for. Almost everyone in camp knew that Aurora was Rowan's daughter and were initially surprised when an unknown boy got the 1st rank instead of her. This surprise, however, subsided when they found out Atticus's actual identity.
Elias and the other instructors also watched with rapt attention.
Elias smiled, 'Let's see how strong you are,' while gazing at Atticus.
Atticus met Aurora's gaze and calmly stood up, walking to the stage nonchalantly. All eyes were on the duo on the stage, curious to see who was stronger. They were both monsters who had reached intermediate- rank at the age of 10.
Even though Atticus had gotten the 1st rank, they still didn't believe he was stronger than Aurora as they hadn't fought yet.
Not caring about the looks, Atticus thought, 'Now how should I deal with this?' Although he had a score to settle with Rowan, it had nothing to do with Aurora.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered taking it on Aurora, but he thought better of it, 'You're lucky I'm not wicked,' as he gazed at her. Atticus's vengeance only involved the perpetrator and any fool who tried to stand in the way, he wasn't one to take it out on innocents.
"Bring out your weapons!" Reed instructed.
'My katana would be overkill. I'll use water mimicry,' Atticus decided.
Although he was trying to keep some cards up his sleeves, using the element and the art was different. His movements would mimic the element, but it had no visual effects.
Only people of adequate strength would be able to tell that he was using the water aspect of the art, something only people with water elements could use.
Atticus knew that Rowan might be able to tell, but it didn't really matter. He was sure Helodor had already informed him that he had multiple elements, and adding one more wouldn't change much. Besides, Rowan couldn't do anything to him as he was bound by a mana contract.
Hearing the instructor's voice, Aurora promptly listened and brought out her weapon, a high-quality gauntlet that outshone Chubby's by a mile.
As she finished equipping, she looked up at the booth with a resolute expression and then glanced down at Atticus, who had yet to take out his weapon. "Won't you bring out your weapon?" She asked, bewildered.
Instantly, a blue, transparent shield formed in front of him. The strike hit the shield with a thunderous crash, sending shockwaves reverberating through the arena.
The whole arena fell silent. The sudden silence was broken only by the voice of a trainee who asked what everyone was thinking, "Is this a fight between first years?"
After the smoke cleared, a shocked Aurora could be seen. "No way," she said, her voice trembling. There wasn't even the slightest ripple on the shield.
Atticus's proficiency of the art had increased over the years, it was currently at the intermediate+ level. It was only natural that the strength of an intermediate- couldn't break through it.
Without giving her a chance to catch her breath, Atticus suddenly moved toward her at lightning speed.
She was too surprised to react. Using the tips of his fingers, moving like dangerous waves, he advanced swiftly toward her throat.
Aurora's eyes widened, and as the strike was about to land, the stage lit up and stopped the attack.
"Winner, Atticus!" Reed declared, his surprise evident as he didn't even realize that he called out Atticus's name instead of his rank.
Aurora fell on her butt, still in disbelief that she had lost. She cast a look at the booth and suddenly shivered, feeling her father's cold stare even though she couldn't see it.
Atticus walked off the stage, and moved towards his seat.
As he walked, all eyes were on him. The various looks of judgment and doubt he had received earlier seemed to vanish, leaving only one expression – admiration.
Only Ember and his teammates, who had witnessed his strength firsthand, weren't too surprised.
Ember's face didn't even change; she had already expected this outcome. Even she couldn't defeat that monster. Who was Aurora?
Atticus sat down on his seat nonchalantly, his expression as if he hadn't even done anything worthwhile.
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