Chapter 491 Happiness
Happiness.
It was an awesome feeling. A feeling of inner peace and harmony that washed over an individual when they were surrounded by positivity.
But from their demeanor and the staggering amount of killing intent that filled the air, even the most naive person in Eldoralth would know that what Atticus was currently surrounded by was far from positivity.
One glance at each one of them was enough to tell that they had come well-prepared. Every one of them had been able to remove a significant amount of restrictions from themselves, most of them radiating the aura of an Advanced rank, with the leading party—Zezazeus, Gerald, Sonorous, and Dante Starhaven—radiating the aura of an Advanced+ rank.
Unlike Atticus, who had decided to avoid the Bone Race warriors during the first days just because he had killed Zekaron, they did the opposite.
They must have had to kill a significant number of Bone Race warriors in order to advance this far, or as Atticus could notice, themselves.
The number of third years alone participating in the competition was 20 individuals, and Atticus had only killed 4 of them as far as he could remember. But only 8 appeared here.
Ganging up and killing the rest would be easy considering their might.
And yet, all of this display didn't seem to shake Atticus one bit.
He didn't care about their mighty lineup; he didn't care about the fact that they had come well-prepared.
From the very first day he had entered the academy, Atticus had never considered them worthy of his time.
This might sound proud, insanely so, but this was the complete and total truth of the matter. Atticus had never considered himself proud, neither was he an attention seeker. He wouldn't go out of his way to show off to people, nor would he actively seek trouble.
99% of the time, Atticus would always choose to mind his business.
But when threatened, when messed with, Atticus would always choose to nip the bud. He would always choose to go out of his way to show his enemies, and those that had the potential to be enemies, that they had made a grave mistake.
A mistake that must be accounted for, a mistake that they must take responsibility for.
He would not give them a chance to think and regret their decision; he would not give them a chance to back up. Once they decided to be stupid, they must see it through.
He had seen this coming from a mile away, and he was glad, glad that they had packed themselves together and delivered themselves on a silver platter. And what was even more awesome was the fact that they had done this when he was looking for a way out of his current situation.
How did they know? He had been looking for free points!
Happiness.
This was the feeling that engulfed Atticus' entire body as soon as he laid his eyes on the small army of youths up ahead.
The millions of students watching the screen were all expecting an intense and mind-blowing fight to ensue, a close fight between two parties, an exchange of blows and might. They were all silent, the whole coliseum enveloped in palpable silence. Magnus and Oberon's gaze were focused on the screen, a small smile marring Magnus's face.
But unfortunately, none of that would happen.
Only one thing was going to happen here today.
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An intense grin spread across Atticus' face, his hands moving with practiced ease, throwing Aurora behind his back, a simple and succinct sentence leaving his mouth.
"I'll be quick,"
He couldn't have that.
But unfortunately for Seraphin, he had bitten off more than he could chew. Atticus didn't care about his sob story; he wouldn't care even if he was crying in front of him.
What mattered was that he had messed with him, and he would, nay, he must face the consequences.
Atticus's movements were swift like flickering flames, appearing in front of Seraphin.
His right hand drew downwards, erupting upwards in a raging fire.
Seraphin didn't seem to notice Atticus's appearance; in fact, his gaze was still focused ahead, already anticipating the event that was about to ensue.
The intense grin on his face remained undisturbed, that is, until Atticus's searing uppercut landed...
The intense grin on Seraphin's face remained for a second, his whole body abruptly coming to a stop in the air.
Then, his body seemed to register the punch.
It was nothing other than cataclysmic.
Seraphin's jaw shattered, his shining white teeth bursting into millions of tiny pieces.
The force of the punch traveled upwards to his skull, his cheeks and flesh trembling, reaching his head in an instant.
His brain shook, his eyes becoming fizzy and unfocused before he shot upwards at dizzying speeds. He appeared like a golden comet shooting up into the skies.
Seraphin's figure shooting upwards brought the rest of the Stellaris youths back to reality.
Gerald's blazing figure came to an abrupt stop in the air, his gaze drawn upward to the soaring golden figure behind him.
He had been at the forefront of the group, leaving Seraphin at the back lines in order to protect him.
But Atticus didn't seem to care about this fact. In fact, his actions were far from over.
Seraphin had hardly traveled upwards before Atticus flickered above him, a round kick hammering his left cheek.
The force of the kick had bearly acted before Atticus's figure flicked to the side, a blurring punch bashing Seraphin's right cheek.
Atticus flickered with rapidity, unleashing a barrage of brutal punches and kicks from every conceivable angle.
The force of each attack would have hardly acted before another would land, each one more brutal than the last.
Seraphin's momentum had completely stopped, remaining fixed in one position, a barrage of punches landing on every inch of his body.
His form convulsed violently with each strike, the relentless bombardment leaving him defenseless and utterly battered.
"ATTICUS!!!"
Gerald roared into the skies, his figure bursting out in a radiant crimson glow that tripled the temperature in the air.
He exploded forward, leaving a streak of crimson glow in his wake.