Chapter 138 Slap

Chapter 138 Slap

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William's expression remained as cold as ice as he took a determined stance, gripping his sword firmly with both hands, his gaze fixed directly on Atticus.

Every pair of eyes in the hall fixated on the two young combatants as they stood ready to engage in the center of the grand hall. The anticipation and excitement in the room were palpable.

Despite learning of Atticus astonishing feat of defeating 3 expert ranked individuals during the attack on the camp, none of them fully believed that. Doubt and skepticism still lingered among many.

While it was clear that William was far from being able to pose a significant challenge to Atticus, given that he was only at an intermediate rank, this spar would at least provide an opportunity to witness Atticus's abilities in action.

The hall was filled with Grandmaster ranks, individuals with very keen perception and the ability to discern even the subtlest movements of mana and combat techniques. All eyes were intently focused on Atticus, curious to see what he'll show.

Upon receiving approval from Magnus, the man who had previously hosted the event stepped forward and positioned himself beside Atticus and William.

He spoke, "Since this is a spar to settle your differences, you are allowed to fight with everything at your disposal. I will only intervene in the fight if I feel that one of your lives is in danger," he explained.

Given that this was a battle to resolve their grudges, they were permitted to utilize all the tools and abilities in their repertoire for the fight. As a Master rank individual, he was confident in being able to act in time if any of their lives were ever in danger.

Upon hearing this, William couldn't help but smirk, adjusting his stance as he fixed his gaze on Atticus.

William had truly believed that what everyone had said about Atticus defeating three expert ranked individuals was complete bullshit. An intermediate- rank defeating expert ranks? It just wasn't possible.

But despite his disbelief in the rumors, William knew that Atticus was strong.

Apart from Atticus easily beating Jack and the other two guys back when he had sent them to embarrass him at the camp, he had observed Atticus effortlessly controlling his bloodline during the attack when they were escaping.

The intensity of the slap was so immense that it sent William's head spinning. His entire body was immeidately turned around by the sheer force, carrying him aloft as he somersaulted through the air, propelled away in a series of three graceful arcs before being sent hurtling through the air.

He tumbled across the cold marble floor for several meters, rolling uncontrollably before coming to an abrupt halt.

Silence.

The hall had gone silent yet again because of a particular 10 year old's actions. But who could blame them? This 10 year old was just too much! The thought going through everyone's minds was: Is he really 10?

William couldn't seem to compose himself, his vision still blurred from the slap he had just received. Feeling the intense pain radiating from his left cheek, he instinctively raised his hand and touched it, experiencing sharp pain even from the slightest contact.

"W-was I just slapped?" He mumbled absentmindedly, struggling to process Atticus's actions, his mind reeling.

Atticus's expression remained unchanged as he continued to approach William, who was still on the floor. He had already decided how he was going to 'nip the bud.'

It was a way he chose to always handle situations like this; through complete and utter humiliation.

His goal was to humiliate William in front of the family members, to such an extent that he would never be able to raise his head again.

Besides, the hall was filled with practically every important member of the family.

Atticus wanted to use this situation to subtly convey a message to everyone watching, a message best left unspoken, a message that was most effectively conveyed through actions: he wasn't to be trifled with.

Seeing Atticus slowly approaching him, William forced himself to stand, vigorously shaking his head to dispel the dizziness.

Once on his feet, he raised his sword, striving to steady its trembling. 'I'm shaking?' William thought, bewildered. 'No,' he suppressed the thought that had been creeping into his mind and redirected his gaze to Atticus.

Gripping his sword tighter, he forced himself to stop shaking. Atticus stood there, watching him rise, displaying no signs of impatience.