Chapter 1297: Balls

Atticus smiled and turned to address them. “Be alert. Be ready for anything,” he said succinctly, not adding anything else.

He nodded as he saw the Eldorians’ expressions turning determined.

‘That should be enough to get my message across,’ he thought before glancing at the others and stepping on the pathway.

“I hope we don’t see any more ugly gods this time around,” Whisker said with a sigh.

No one bothered to answer. Atticus didn’t see a reason to. Magnus and Aric weren’t talkers, and Ozeroth had a scrunched up face for some reason.

Whisker sighed. This was what he was trying to avoid. They were far too serious! And they hadn’t even gotten to the Midplanes yet!

‘We should’ve just stayed.’ Whisker let out another audible sigh, but no one answered.

Their steps were swift, and soon enough, Atticus found himself in front of the same blue veil leading into the star.

He didn’t pause his steps. He had made his peace with everything last night. There was no need for affirmations anymore.

He would mow down any challenge that came his way.

The veil flared bright blue as the group stepped in. The feeling of teleportation engulfed him, and a moment later, Atticus brought his hand close to his katana.

Of all his senses, his instinct was the first to come to him. His vision was still dark and obscured, but he could already feel danger emanating from multiple sources.

“Welcome to the core of Torevennos. I am the segment star. You may address me as Iron Crown.”

As the voice rang in his ears, Atticus’ vision cleared in that moment. He didn’t turn to the source of the voice, Atticus left that for last.

First, he scanned his surroundings to locate the threats.

‘We’re not in the blue hall.’ He realized.

Unlike the blue hall they had appeared in last time, this was an abrupt change he hadn’t expected.

Atticus stood in the middle of a grand, circular throne room. The ceiling reached for the heavens, and Atticus could feel an unusual concentration of iron. It was strange.

Everything was made of iron, walls, floor, even the towering pillars that rose to meet the ceiling.

In that brief scan, Atticus saw the sources of danger. The first was a god, Nex. Somehow, he had been invited to this event, for reasons beyond Atticus’ understanding.

Nex stared at Atticus, his eyes brimming with nothing but bloodlust. Gone was the proud, authoritative god he had once tried to portray. Now, he looked like a man out for vengeance.

Atticus could guess why Nex wanted him dead. He had massacred his powerhouses and a good number of his people, after all. But he didn’t really care.

In fact, he hoped the man would act on those emotions. Four more worlds added to his arsenal wouldn’t hurt.

Atticus looked away. His glance had been the kind one would give an ant, brief, dismissive, without acknowledgment. It seemed to grate on Nex’s nerves, his killing intent now flooding the hall.

Atticus then turned to the figure beside him. An aged man dressed in a silver grey militaristic uniform, a small frown on his face, his piercing gaze fixed on Atticus.

Atticus instantly sensed the boundlessness in that gaze. That kind of presence didn’t belong to a lower planer. He recognized the man, one of the middle plane faction representatives.

‘Iron Faction.’

That brought Atticus to the second source of threat. Not far from Nex and the Iron Faction’s representative stood the others, the ones who had watched the Virelenna.

Over the past week, they had all tried to arrange meetings with Atticus. He had refused them all.

Atticus understood what they were feeling.

A mere god from the lower planes had dismissed them outright…

Their faces only showed small frowns, but Atticus could feel the weight of their glares. Especially from the Redflame representative.

He turned to the man with flaming red hair and burning eyes. The heat around him was intense, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Of them all, he had been the one to request meetings the most.

Once again, Atticus’ glance was brief, just like with Nex. No acknowledgment. The kind one would give to the worthless.

The representatives all seemed to see red. The temperature plummeted.

But before anyone could act, Atticus finally turned to the star and responded.

“I am Atticus.”

Silence settled over the hall. A heavy one.

The representatives stared at him, stunned. That was it?

A star was the ruler of an entire segment, a place where multiple worlds rose and fell. Beings of unfathomable power.

Four such beings were present here. One had even introduced himself.

And yet, a mere lowerplane god had responded with… that?

Quiet Flame hid the smirk curling across his face beneath the shadow of his cloak. His eyes were locked on Iron Crown’s strained expression. He held back the laughter threatening to burst out.

Only this insane kid could make a star look like he was holding in a month old shit. He couldn’t lie, he was loving this.

“What an intriguing child,” Dreaming Sea muttered, her eyes shining like twin flames. As though she’d found a treasure.

“I agree,” Crimson Hollow added, staring at Atticus. “He has some balls.”

The two stars had recovered from their loss a week ago. Losing three gods and their worlds in a single day wasn’t easy, but they were stars. They’d been through worse across the millennials.

“You’re a lucky old man, Quiet Flame,” Dreaming Sea said.

Quiet Flame smiled at her but said nothing.

The scene of the stars praising Atticus only made Iron Crown’s expression twist further. But in the next moment, his face returned to its usual calm.

His gaze bore down on Atticus.

“Eldoralth’s god, you will be ascending to the Midplanes in moments. It is impossible for you, or your world, to survive without coming under a faction,” he said assuredly, calmly, as though it were fact. He gestured to the gathered representatives.

“Join a faction. Now.”

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