Chapter 655 Too Late

655 Too Late

The sound of bone meeting flesh was drowned out by the deafening roars of the earth shattering beneath them, the crater expanding as Alvis's fists rained down on Atticus.

Dust clouds billowed high into the sky, obscuring the battlefield in a thick, choking haze.

Atticus's body bore the brunt of Alvis's relentless barrage. Each punch drove him deeper into the earth, and he felt his bones snapping multiple times like twigs.

His vision blurred, pain radiating from every fiber of his being, yet he was still holding up.

A bubble of water had already engulfed him inside his suit, his body radiating an intense light. Atticus utilized the water and light elements in tandem, healing his battered body over and over again.

His exo-suit worked in overdrive, siphoning mana from the air, recovering his stamina, and also aiding in the healing process.

Atticus tried unleashing his other elements at Alvis; however, the sheer pressure the grandmaster was emanating seemed to flatten each attempt.

The brutal barrage of punches showed no signs of stopping, and Atticus's mind drifted off.

He had recently battled Niall and had overwhelmed the man. However, Atticus had clearly gotten ahead of himself. Niall had restricted his power to the grandmaster- rank.

Atticus had truly believed that if worse came to worse, he would at least be able to hold on against Niall's actual power should he not use his domain.

However, Atticus was just beginning to understand that the difference between a grandmaster- and a grandmaster+ was unfathomable.

Alvis was fast. The force of his blows was immense.

Even with the exo-suit and his new improvements after reaching the master- rank, Atticus felt his bones being crushed, his flesh mangled with each punch.

But all things must come to an end.

A boisterous laugh rocked the whole space, followed by the loud voice of a man speaking.

"Hahahaha! Alvis! I've never seen you lose your composure so much before! He must have gotten under your skin, huh?"

The constant barrage of punches stopped, and Alvis raised his blood-drenched arms, turning to look at the one who had just spoken.

His eyes instantly locked onto the red eyes of Ronad, who was perched just above the massive crater the duo was in the middle of.

"Shut up,"

Alvis growled, his anger palpable. The left hand that Atticus had cut open had already healed, and despite having pummeled the intruder with such intensity, Alvis didn't seem satisfied in the least.

It was mind-bending.

It was crazy.

"But damn, what the hell are these Ravensteins feeding their children?" Ronad also seemed to pick up on the situation, but Alvis ignored him, his gaze fixed on Atticus.

"How did you gain such strength?" Alvis asked coldly. If it was with the help of an artifact, it would be invaluable to the order.

However, he received no response, only the sight of Atticus straining and forcing himself to stand.

Crimson blood drenched his suit and face, his body screaming in pain, but he was still alive and breathing, albeit raggedly and laboriously.

He looked battered, but the intensity in Atticus's stare made Alvis narrow his eyes.

There were two grandmaster+ ranks in the area—where was the expected look of hopelessness in his eyes?

However, Atticus was calm.

True, he had taken that devastating barrage of punches, and it had left him exhausted. However, he had done it for a reason. Atticus could have utilized the space element to teleport, but he didn't.

And it was for one reason.

One of the exosuit's unique ability to absorb and store incoming blows, then unleash them with nearly twice the original force.

Atticus's katana never left his grasp and it all happened in an instant.

The exosuit erupted in a blinding flash of crimson light, a shockwave of power radiating outward that shook the earth and split the sky.

The energy that had been accumulating within the suit exploded outward, the force so intense that the ground beneath Atticus shattered further, sending debris flying in all directions.

Atticus's body surged with an almost unimaginable strength, every muscle, every nerve, every cell charged with power.

In an instant, Atticus moved—no, he didn't just move; he seemed to multiply, his form blurring into countless afterimages as he executed the katana's third art.

One moment, he was standing tall in the crater; the next, a crimson crescent tearing through the sky formed in front of him.

Alvis's gaze narrowed in shock, but it was too late.

The arc of energy screamed toward Alvis, appearing inches away from splitting him in two.