YM778.TV Chapter 756 Two Hope
Chapter 756 Two Hope
\'Hmm.\'
His thoughts shifted to the arena and the fight that had just ensued. The molten glow had faded, leaving behind many areas of devastation.
\'He was weaker than I thought he would be,\' Atticus reflected.
A reincarnator, combined with being born into a mid-tier race—those two factors had led Atticus to expect a far tougher opponent. He had thought he was facing a version of himself on another level today.
\'Have I grown that strong?\' He thought about the draw he had with Ae\'ark during their battle.
Back then, the major reason for the draw was his lack of preparation. But after a year of extensive training, his growth had been remarkable.
But that wasn\'t the only factor.
His bloodline compared to Draktharion\'s was like heaven and earth.
\'Is it possible the being who sent us here was trying to balance things out? Maybe because I was born into a lower race, I was given something this powerful,\' the assumptions in Atticus\' mind were endless, and he decided to stop thinking about it.
Turning his gaze back to the screen in front of him, he considered,
\'A superior race apex should be stronger. I should prepare for the worst.\'
Atticus ignored the message for now. Although he hadn\'t strained himself too much during this battle, he still wanted to be in peak condition for the next one.
\'The mid and lower races are probably dead, and only the superior races remain,\'
Aside from himself, the other mid and lower races had likely been eliminated, unless one of them had the fortune to be paired with a weaker opponent. This meant he should expect the worst.
Atticus quickly sat down cross-legged on the molten ground, entering a deep state of meditation. He replayed the fight in his mind, focusing on recovering his strength and will. The intense heat surrounding him seemed to accelerate his recovery.
…
The cheers from the human domain had eventually subsided, but the excitement in the air was still palpable.
Despite some battles about to start, many were still focused on their apex, even though he was just sitting there, doing nothing.
Meanwhile, an intense laughter echoed across a castle and forest alike. To any human, the sound would immediately suggest a Stellaris, but the laughter didn\'t belong to a human at all.
Whisker von Pounce\'s laughter echoed, even as Blackgate\'s killing intent engulfed the space.
"This human! How can he be human?" Whisker exclaimed excitedly. The others might not have noticed, but he had seen it clearly.
Atticus had used his will to counter the Dimensari\'s.
Whisker eventually settled down, deep in thought.
\'I suspected something back when I tested him, but his will is truly special. He has the potential to surpass me in that field,\' Whisker admitted to himself, though outwardly he remained excited.
His main power was rooted in his will, the basis for all his abilities. But Atticus was different. His control over the elements was unparalleled, and it was obvious that this was his main path.
Yet, Atticus\' will—something that wasn\'t even his primary ability—had more potential than Whisker\'s own. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
For the first time, Whisker felt a twinge of fear about what Atticus might become if left to grow unchecked.
Yet, that fear only excited him further.
\'The future is going to be so much fun,\' Whisker thought with a grin.
…
While all of this was happening, the situation among the paragons was reaching a boiling point as those who had lost their apexes came to a frightening realization: they were outnumbered.
During the counting, the lower and mid races hadn\'t even been considered—it seemed pointless to include them.
Only three superior races were on their side, while six stood against them. To make matters worse, they were in the Dimensari domain.
The moment they unleashed their aura, they felt the eyes of multiple paragons lock onto them.
Even Magnus and the human paragons found themselves standing in the way. Atticus was still in the competition.
The superior races were proud by nature, and unlike the lower and mid races, who came with multiple paragons, only one paragon from each superior race attended. But now, that pride was backfiring.
"You can make them answer for their negligence later, but for now, let him gain control over the dimension and bring them back," the Evolari paragon reasoned firmly, her aura strong yet composed.
She was tall and regal, with sharp eyes and silver hair that fell like a waterfall, her every movement graceful and decisive.
Should anyone attempt to cause trouble, she was ready for battle.
"That\'s easy for you to say, your apex is still alive! Is the Evolari allying with the Dimensari?" The Lucendi paragon seethed, his figure lean and sharp like a blade, his golden eyes burning with anger as his pale face twisted in anger.
Before the Evolari paragon could respond, another voice cut through the tension.
"Yes. We\'re standing in your way because our apexes are still alive. If you were in our position, you\'d be doing the exact same thing. Think carefully—you\'re not only outnumbered, you\'re in the Dimensari\'s domain. There\'s no rampaging here, only death," said the Vampyros paragon, her voice cold and blunt.
She was clad in black and crimson robes flowing like shadows, her piercing red eyes glowing faintly against her pale, almost ethereal, skin.
The expressions of paragons of the Lucendi, Requiem, and Transmutari all darkened, the air trembling with barely restrained fury. They knew it was their loss.
"You\'ll join us soon," the Requiem paragon muttered darkly, before taking his seat on his floating throne. His skeletal figure and hollow eyes radiated an ominous presence as if death itself had spoken.
The opposing paragons couldn\'t help but narrow their eyes. His meaning was clear: if Eletrantron didn\'t regain control of the dimension in time, four more apexes would die.
Then, everything would change.
Reluctantly, the others soon returned to their seats, focusing on the screen. The tension in the air remained thick, but now the hope was split between two outcomes: Eletrantron regaining control, or the second round of deaths commencing.
The screen flickered, and every gaze shifted toward it.
The next round was about to begin.