Chapter 707 Arcs

What was the first thing that came to mind when one heard the saying, ‘life flashing before your eyes?’

Many would go for the literal route—where, at death’s door, memories of your entire life would flash through your mind, especially the important ones.

Others might take the emotional route—where instead of just memories, you’d feel a flood of intense emotions tied to the moments and people that mattered most to you.

But most would forget an important aspect of the whole situation: the person’s current emotions.

Depending on the circumstances, those emotions could vary significantly—regret, unwillingness, or even happiness.

But for Elysia, it was none of these.

Elysia forgot everything. She forgot her eternal love for her skin and beauty. She forgot her loyalty to the Obsidian Order. She forgot every single memory of her life up until now. Instead, only one emotion overwhelmed her—fear.

As Elysia soared backward through the air, her body contorted in pain, her face a mangled mess of seared flesh.

The heat from Atticus’s flames had deformed her once-prized skin, the agony consuming her every nerve. The air roared past her, but in her mind, everything slowed.

She felt the sharp sting of reality, the visceral pain clawing at her, and then… the fear.

Her body aged rapidly, wrinkles forming along her face, her once-vibrant hair turning stark white.

The energy she had to pull from her very essence just to keep her head intact after the impact was draining most of her life away.

She felt it—her youth, her vitality—slipping through her fingers like sand. Her skin sagged, her bones creaked, and her vision dimmed.

The life force she had sacrificed to survive this moment had left her old, broken, and fragile.

Through the world of pain, she forced her eyes to shift, to search for the one who had done this to her.

But Atticus was already gone—vanished.

All she saw was the shimmering trail of fire that had cut through the air where he had moved.

‘No…’ her mind whispered, her thoughts racing even as her body struggled to hold on. Fear tightened its grip on her soul.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she craned her neck, searching the area, her mind screaming at her to find him before—

There!

A streak of fire blazed above her, and then… he was there. Atticus appeared, his flaming katana raised high, the inferno of his presence lighting the night like a second sun.

His movements were fluid, like a phantom of fire, unreal in their speed. But for Elysia, whose life was slipping through her grasp, it all felt like slow motion.

The katana, ablaze with intense heat, descended toward her head like divine judgment. Time seemed to stop. She could see the reflection of her own terror in the blade’s surface, distorted by the flames that danced around it.

‘Ah… so this is it…’

A moment of clarity struck her amidst the storm of panic. There was no escaping this. Her body had reached its limit, her soul teetering on the brink.

Elysia’s fear gave way to grim resignation, her eyes—now dull and aged—staring up at her impending death.

She closed her eyes, ready to accept the end. But just as the flaming katana was about to descend upon her, a blinding figure slammed into her side, sending her spiraling away from the blade’s path.

The flaming katana missed by a hair’s breadth, but the force behind Atticus’s strike was so overwhelming that a crimson arc tore through the air, splitting the very hill they stood on in two. The earth groaned as the sheer energy of the attack rumbled through the estate.

Elysia’s eyes snapped open in shock, catching sight of Gideon, his entire figure shining with a platinum sheen. His aura had far surpassed the golden transformation he had taken before.

His massive figure towered over the battlefield, muscles like steel cables, veins pulsing with raw power. He had evolved into his final form—a terrifying force of nature.

Boman’s mind reeled at the sight. ‘Platinum?’ he thought in disbelief. He doubted if even he could survive a direct hit from Gideon in this form.

“AN ANT IS STILL AN ANT! I’LL CRUSH YOU UNTIL THERE’S NOTHING LEFT!”

Gideon roared, his colossal arm drawing back.

His eyes locked onto Atticus. Without hesitation, he threw his massive fist forward, the sheer power of the punch generating sonic booms, multiple concentric circles forming around it.

The ground beneath Gideon’s feet cracked from the pressure, and his aura erupted around him like a shockwave.

But Atticus, wreathed in fire, simply flickered backward as if his body were made of living flame.

His movement was impossibly fast, his form leaving afterimages in the air as he darted away.

Then, in an instant, he erupted—his katana flashing with crimson light. He moved at blinding speed, unleashing a flurry of slashes. Hundreds of strikes turned into thousands, each one focused on a single point—Gideon’s fist.

The sound of each slash cutting through the air was deafening, the heat radiating from Atticus’s body warping the space around him.

His movements were so fast that it seemed as though he had multiplied, the afterimages trailing behind him as the slashes converged at one blinding point. The temperature surged, the heat so intense that the very air seemed to burn.

In a single, devastating moment, the slashes struck Gideon’s fist, converging with an explosion of force.

What was supposed to be a crushing impact turned into something far more devastating. The katana sliced through Gideon’s arm like a molten blade through steel, cutting through the thick muscles of his knuckles, splitting them in two, and then phasing up through his shoulder with terrifying precision.

Gideon’s roar of agony shook the battlefield, his massive form recoiling as blood sprayed into the air like a geyser.

His mouth opened wide and his aura exploded outward, shaking the earth with a roar that reverberated across the battlefield.

This roar was many times more powerful than the earlier one that had sent Boman flying backward. But before Gideon’s roar could even fully take shape, before his overwhelming power could lash out in full force—Atticus was already there.

Without warning, a flaming foot connected with Gideon’s chin in a brutal uppercut.

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The force rippled through his jaw, snapping it upward, the shockwave traveling up his skull like a lightning bolt.

The ground beneath them buckled, dust and debris flying outward as Gideon’s colossal form was hurled high into the air like a ragdoll.

The shockwave rippled through the estate, splitting the ground and knocking debris loose from the surrounding buildings. Gideon’s body rocketed upward, his massive frame twisting in the sky as blood trailed from his severed arm, splattering down in thick crimson arcs.