?A week passed just like that.

It had taken Atticus hours to pass the first and second summits, something that had blown people’s minds. But as he reached the third summit, he encountered his first major challenge: passing its test.

It was unlike the first and second summits and required a great amount of work and effort to achieve—two things that Atticus hadn’t lacked this past week.

To Atticus, who had mostly been training, this time had gone by in a flash, and he truly had no idea where the time went. Most of the hours of the day and even days were spent on the summit. Atticus would only descend and rest for about four hours before ascending once more.

He had been thoroughly focused on his tasks. And after one week of constant practice, Atticus finally believed that he was ready to give it a real try. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the third summit, Atticus closed his eyes.

It had been a humongous task, almost like creating a living being from scratch.

‘Here we go,’

A subtle wave spread out from Atticus as he formed a connection with the molecules in the air.

The air around him ignited, fire coalescing in front of him. Atticus’s gaze snapped open, his perception ramped up to full speed as he started giving out instructions.

While it was true that the molecules of fire could only follow simple instructions, this had changed over time as Atticus’s connection with them deepened.

The week hadn’t been for naught.

He learned to use his senses to guide them more precisely, even with basic instructions. This profound connection allowed him to orchestrate the molecules into a complex construct.

To create the construct, Atticus had to take note of different things. He began by visualizing its internal framework.

He designed joints and articulated parts to provide mobility, ensuring that each segment could move independently yet cohesively.

The construct needed a robust skeleton-like structure to support its form, so he concentrated on forming a core network of dense, flaming molecules.

This had taken him time to design—days, in fact.

Atticus didn’t lose focus and meticulously directed the molecules to arrange into muscle-like fibers around this core.

These fibers, though composed of fire, mimicked the flexibility and strength of real muscles, which would allow the construct to move with agility.

He created ligaments and tendons from tightly bound flames, linking the joints and enabling smooth, controlled motion.

Furthermore, Atticus designed a neural pathway for mana within the construct.

Atticus couldn’t channel mana through the construct directly, but he had something better. Since the molecules could absorb mana on their own, he had painstakingly learned how to use that.

The absorbed mana would pass from one molecule to another, flowing through the construct like a wave.

The construct, though essentially millions of flaming molecules intricately placed together, was the perfect representation of Magnus.

Its exterior was a solid shell of fire, protecting the delicate internal components and giving it a formidable presence.

The people of the third summit had long since paused their actions, each of them fixing their wide-open eyes on the unfolding scene.

The construct had just been created; now it was time to see if it could move.

Atticus took a deep breath, focusing intently on the intricate web of molecules that comprised the construct.

Controlling millions of molecules simultaneously was an immense challenge, requiring him to maintain a delicate balance between precision and power, especially considering that he had to give the molecules simple instructions constantly.

He was at least glad they could be trained. If not for Atticus’s intense connection to the molecules, he doubted if he could have reached this level in such a short time.

His mind raced as he issued commands, each one a simple directive yet demanding exact coordination.

Firstly, he attempted to make the construct raise its arm. The effort felt like trying to manipulate countless individual threads in unison. He had to keep track of the position of every molecule, ensuring they moved in harmony without disrupting the structure.

It was as if he were conducting a symphony, each molecule a note that had to be perfectly in tune with the others.

It was insane.

Truly, Atticus understood why only master ranks were expected to be at the sanctum. It was as draining as it was exhausting. He felt as though if he had any less intelligence and perception it would be impossible to continue.

As the construct’s arm began to lift, Atticus could feel the strain. The muscles of fire he had crafted responded sluggishly at first, the molecules requiring more time to adjust.

He concentrated harder, giving more waves of instructions to correct their positions and errors.

The construct’s movements grew smoother, but only Atticus knew the effort it took to reach this level.

Next, he decided to continue to push the construct, to make it take its first steps.

Atticus focused his attention on its legs, giving the molecules instructions. Each movement felt like an exercise in precision, requiring him to adjust the molecules’ positions constantly to maintain balance and fluidity.

The process was exhausting, a constant battle to keep the fiery construct cohesive and responsive.

At the end of the day, he was able to get it to walk, shocking the individuals watching.

Each of them had already achieved this feat but they had spent a year doing it. Granted, they had basically told Atticus everything they had done but the fact that he was still able to achieve it was incredible.

Atticus didn’t lose focus. He continued moving the construct until he made sure he had a proper grasp of it.

Afterwards, Atticus formed its spear and moved to perform other movements.

Just like that, two days passed and Atticus stood in front of the old figure of Dekai, his gaze firm and ready.

The other members of the third summit stood at the sides along with the instructors, each of their gazes fixed on Atticus.

“You can do it?”

Dekai’s baffled question received a firm nod from Atticus.

Dekai smiled.

“Alright then, let’s see how true it is,”