Dawn arrived swiftly. By then, Atticus hovered at the edge of the territory with the others. The morning air was cold and gentle, sweeping through their clothes in a soft cadence.
A sheen of golden light reflected from below. Atticus looked down at the millions upon millions of soldiers stretched out beneath them.
They were clad in gleaming armor that caught the morning sun in a harsh flare, turning the entire army into a sea of gold.
Each stood tall, eyes sharp, posture unwavering. The night had been long, but Atticus had ensured they were given enough rest. They would need it for what lay ahead.
Still, he was satisfied.
’They’re ready.’
He glanced at his people. Ozeroth. Whisker. Anorah. Magnus. Noctis. And even Ozerra. Aside from Whisker, they had all donned armor in preparation for the battle.
His gaze stopped on Ozeroth. Though he’d initially been shocked that the prideful man actually wore armor, a practice Ozeroth normally disdained, Whisker had cleared up the confusion.
He hadn’t worn it for protection. He’d worn it purely to look the part of a general.
His armor was sleek, radiating golden light that caught the rising sun. His chest was puffed out, chin raised, posture announcing exactly what he thought he was.
A general. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂
Atticus turned to face the front. The Willguard army still stood perfectly still. They hadn’t moved an inch since they arrived.
He finally shifted his gaze toward the sentinel’s heavy stare. From the moment they appeared, the man’s attention had been locked entirely on Atticus.
"You’re right," Atticus whispered to Whisker. "He’ll definitely be ugly under that mask."
"See? I told you." Whisker snorted. "A glare like that? That’s the face of someone who’s been angry at the world his whole life. Only way to match that level of hate is if you’re ugly as fuck."
A chorus of laughter rippled through the group. Atticus felt the sentinel’s killing intent spike in response.
"Accept the challenge," the man seethed.
As his will churned around him, Atticus’s eyes flickered.
’Got it.’
This little act had been Whisker’s idea. A simple provocation meant to reveal just how powerful the sentinel’s will was.
’Just above five hundred thousand minor worlds.’
It was an astronomical amount, a count sitting on the higher end of the power spectrum. Still, since arriving on the count layer, Atticus had faced all kinds of opponents. Some overwhelmingly strong. Some pathetically weak.
Regardless, in the eight days he’d been on the count layer, his own will had grown to an insane degree.
Atticus shut his eyes and focused, feeling the countless wills roaring within him.
’Five hundred thousand minor worlds...’
The number alone was frightening. So frightening that Atticus couldn’t begin to imagine the changes Eldoralth would undergo after the games.
He was going to need more Eldorians.
Atticus allowed his mind to settle.
’It’s going to work.’
He glanced at the others, receiving firm nods. Then he looked at his army, millions of eyes burning with resolve. He nodded back.
"I accept."
The world around him blurred instantly, melting away into an endless expanse. The sentinel stood just ahead of him, his presence oppressive.
"I’ll gouge those eyes of yours out before I crush your bones and show you your place. Filth."
The sentinel’s eyes blazed with violent light. His killing intent settled over Atticus, but Atticus’s expression didn’t shift an inch.
He simply glanced away from the man dismissively like he wasn’t worth acknowledging.
The sentinel’s teeth ground audibly.
A voice echoed through the empty space the next moment.
"The challenge has been accepted.
Challenged: Atticus Ravenstein.
Challenger: Beladona Norwin.
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