Chapter 832 Blame

Chapter 832 Blame

The sound of water splashing echoed across the quiet underground world.

Elder Lorthan stared at the ripples on the spiritual lake, his expression frozen in disbelief.

He had just explained the dangers and pain that awaited Atticus in the lake, yet the boy hadn't shown the slightest hint of hesitation. It hadn't fazed him at all.

Lorthan had never seen a 17-year-old so fearless in his life. It should have been a moment to make any elder smile with pride. However, coldness filled Lorthan's face instead.

It was as though, the moment Atticus entered the lake, a switch had been flipped. Every trace of the sagely calm aura Lorthan carried vanished, replaced by an icy gaze fixed firmly on the lake.

'Such a shame,' he thought bitterly.

Atticus Ravenstein, the greatest genius humanity had ever seen. A boy foretold to raise humanity to unprecedented heights. A boy whose potential was immeasurable, destined to stand at the top.

Yet, to Lorthan, it was now all meaningless.

'This will be where he meets his end,' he thought grimly.

Lorthan had devoted his entire life to the spirits. After bonding with one, he had chosen to forsake everything to live in the underground world with them.

To him, his very existence was meant to serve them. His devotion ran that deep. This was why, upon learning that Atticus had summoned an enemy of the spirits and still intended to bond with it, he immediately saw him as an enemy.

'It can't be helped. He chose this...' n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

His thoughts were interrupted as the air around him suddenly shifted.

'They're here,' Lorthan realized, his gaze sharpening.

The spiritual energy in the area thickened, becoming so dense it was almost suffocating. The ground trembled faintly beneath his feet as gravity seemed to press down like an invisible weight.

In the blink of an eye, they appeared.

Dozens of figures, over thirty in number, materialized near the twisted roots of the eternal canopy.

Each one wore dark purple robes etched with intricate, ethereal patterns that glowed faintly, resembling the spirits hovering in the air.

Lorthan's composure cracked as his voice rose sharply. "You bastards!"

Before he could act, a figure appeared from behind the group.

Lorthan immediately bowed. "Young Master Kaelan," he greeted with respect.

Kaelan's icy gaze silenced him instantly. "Stand down, Elder. Remember why we're here."

Lorthan clenched his fists but didn't argue further, stepping back with his aura now restrained.

His fanatical devotion to the spirits had always made him admire and worship those who bonded with higher-tier spirits.

It was this same devotion that had made him accept Kaelan's offer without hesitation. Like Kaelan, Lorthan didn't want Atticus to "sully" Zoey's bloodline.

Kaelan turned to Veylor, a faint smile on his lips. "I see you came prepared. Are you ready?"

Veylor smiled faintly in return, though his expression had no warmth. "This should be simple. He may be capable of fighting grandmasters, but no one escapes the effects of the spiritual lake."

Kaelan's smile widened as his gaze shifted to the lake.

'Finally,' he thought with a sense of satisfaction.

He had planned everything meticulously.

What Lorthan had conveniently failed to mention to Atticus was that during the synchronization process, the body would endure immense stress and strain.

By the end, he would be completely exhausted and weak. This was especially so when the amount of mana in the individual's body that needed to synchronize with the spiritual energy was immense. In the worst cases, individuals couldn't even lift a finger, let alone fight.

Kaelan had anticipated that Atticus would eventually need the lake to progress and had set everything in motion accordingly. Before arriving, he had checked and was glad that Seraphina was absent.

Now, all they had to do was wait for Atticus to emerge. Then, it would all be over.

'Blame yourself for standing in my way,' Kaelan thought coldly.

As the group gathered around the lake, the person they were all waiting for was lost in his own world.

To Atticus, all he could see was darkness, accompanied by a tingling sensation spreading across his body.