The one who had just spoken had undoubtedly been Lucienta, and Atticus couldn’t help but notice her right hand was clenched hard.

Atticus still had his whole body covered up in a suit, along with his face. Apart from that, he was still wearing a latex suit underneath! Anyone would have assumed he was one of the bone race. But for some reason, they knew he was a human.

Seeing that Atticus didn’t respond once more, Lucienta’s expression morphed into anger.

“You’d be dead already if not for Lord Spineus,” she snarled, taking a step forward.

But she couldn’t go further as Luther suddenly placed his firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

Lucienta’s gaze shot backward to look at Luther, who shook his head with a firm expression.

“Calm yourself; this is not your stage,” Luther advised.

Lucienta gritted her teeth, taking in a deep breath. She calmed her raging mind. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

Luther simply nodded at her, and she had hardly turned her gaze back toward the front before Atticus had already moved.

Atticus had hardly ever used the water element to move before, and this was because he more often than not needed to move fast during battle.

He would always choose fire for a sudden burst of speed or air for an otherwise relative fast speed. It wasn’t until later that he added lightning to the fray.

But Atticus had been wrong. He had completely neglected the water element, thinking it was only for seamless movements.

It wasn’t until his elemental mimicry advanced to the Advanced-rank and his constitution changed that Atticus became aware of how foolish he had been.

The elements were ever-changing; there was no single movement that could define them.

Fire was unpredictable yet predictable; it could flicker and dance, constantly shifting in shape and intensity. It could also spread out and consume everything in its path like a wave.

Air was free yet fierce; it could move and swirl with frightening lightness. It could also swirl and spiral violently, unleashing powerful gusts that whipped debris into the air.

Earth was steadfast yet ever-changing; its surface shifted and morphed over time. It could crumble and erode away slowly, like sand slipping through fingers. Or it could shake and tremble with seismic force, as if the very ground beneath one’s feet was alive and restless, reshaping the terrain in an instant.

And lastly, water. It was fluid and dynamic, embodying both serenity and power. It could flow effortlessly, meandering along its path with graceful ease, shaping the land with its gentle caress.

Yet, it could also surge and crash with unstoppable force, like a tidal wave crashing against the shore.

And surge Atticus did.

Atticus surged forward, leaving a streak of water in his wake. He looked like a tidal wave crashing against the shore, consuming everything in its path.

Atticus closed the distance, a water-made sword forming in his hand.

With lethal force, he slashed, the water-made sword appearing inches away from Lucienta’s neck.

Throughout the entire scene, Atticus didn’t utter a word. He didn’t even try to talk his way out of the situation or reason with them.

He would have to be a fool to think there was any way out of this without violence, especially with Lucienta’s staggering killing intent.

There was no need to say anything.

Lucienta only caught sight of the sword appearing in front of her neck from the side of her vision. She couldn’t react in time.

The firm grip on Lucienta’s shoulders suddenly tightened, an overwhelming force pulling her whole body backward.

His blade sliced through the air where she had just stood, missing her neck by mere inches.

Atticus’s next movements were unreal. His movement flowed smoothly, as though the usual momentum that should be present considering the force of the attack didn’t exist.

His movement changed from the surging waves and flowed like the gentle flow of a stream. The blade, which had initially been moving to the left, suddenly changed directions, cleaving with a downward strike toward Luther’s right leg.

Luther’s gaze widened, his shock palpable. Wasn’t this human supposed to be just an intermediate rank?

Luther’s stance shifted, but it was too late. The water-made sword diced a significant part of his right thigh, a spurt of blood gushing out.

Luther’s expression contorted in pain, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as Atticus’s sword found its way to his neck.

All of this had happened in the span of two seconds, a very short time for many individuals to react in time.

But the duo weren’t just normal individuals. They were warriors of the Ossara family. They’d been trained and groomed from childhood, going through a multitude of deadly training, with many meeting their end.

They were both elite of the elite. The number of life-and-death situations they’d been in was staggering; they weren’t ones to many meeting their end.

They were both elite of the elite. The number of life-and-death lose their composure here.

Lucienta quickly regained her footing, her gaze narrowed and instantly landed on Atticus.

Without missing a beat, a bone-like spear formed in her hand. She shot forward and closed the distance, sending several piercing strikes all at once.

Atticus didn’t even turn to look. It was as though the incoming barrage wasn’t even directed at him.

But if Atticus’s prowess had shocked Luther, his next action made Lucienta’s heart tremble.

Countless golden shields suddenly materialized, each not even half a foot in size. However, this wasn’t what shocked Lucienta.

What made her heart tremble was the fact that every single one of the paths she had pierced and planned to pierce had a foot-

sized shield blocking their path.

They were each placed in a position that wasn’t too close or far, where each attack wouldn’t achieve its full potential.

Lucienta was caught far too off guard; she had already unleashed her frenzied attacks already. It was too late to stop.

The attacks hit the shield, their form holding for a second before breaking and turning into motes of light.

However, the desired result had already been achieved; Lucienta’s momentum had been disrupted!

It was a slight moment of disruption, less than a second. But to Atticus, it was more than enough.

Atticus’s figure suddenly spun and dipped, leaving the whitish substance that had formed and covered Luther’s neck.

The nature of his movement shifted, mimicking the unstoppable force of an incoming wave as he shot toward Lucienta.

His hard knee connected with her head with brutal force, the impact reverberating through the air.

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