Through the large gaps between the walls, High Lord Gladious witnessed a scene he could scarcely believe was real.
Atticus stood untouched amid a sea of blood and gore. He had moved so fast that Gladious himself, a peak level one, struggled to follow.
'What the hell is he…?'
The reverents that had attacked their stronghold were each at peak level one, with their King likely at the lower level two rank.
As a peak level one, Gladious would've had trouble dealing with even one of those beasts, yet this hunter, clearly mid level one, was cutting through them like flies. He was doing what not even a full group of peak level one hunters could achieve.
Gladious had known Atticus was different from the moment his ultimate art had failed, but this… this was beyond anything he could make sense of.
'There's still hope.'
Gladious clenched his teeth. He had seen Atticus' gaze and understood exactly what kind of person he was.
