"Of course. Do, if you can."
The boundless presence of the Great Verge vanished the moment he spoke. But Count Thane and Viscount Merek hadnāt missed the meaning in those words.
Count Thane rose from his bow, turning towards Nerrot and then Merek. The brief glance was all Nerrot needed to feel a fear that resonated from deep within his soul.
This time, he didnāt dare to speak.
"Itās unfortunate. Your advice was wrong."
"Your eminenā"
"Save it."
Count Thane vanished before Merek could speak, but not without sending a glare towards Atticus. "We will meet during the Ascendant Games."
As the Count vanished, Merek took a deep breath. He tried to imagine where it all went wrong.
āItās my fault for believing this fool was capable of handling the god.ā
Merek glanced over at his son. His eyes at that moment could have burned down a world.
"Faāfather. Iā"
"I didnāt allow you to speak!" Merek thundered. "Stupid boy. You will be punished severely for this failure."
"Yāyes, father." Nerrot muttered with a bow. He felt relieved that his father was present.
The last time heād met Atticusā gaze when he had been shouting, heād gotten a vibe that Atticus wanted to kill him.
Viscount Merek clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He finally turned towards Atticus in the distance.
Atticus eyes were closed, still clearly assimilating with the will heād just absorbed.
āWho is he?ā He wondered. Atticusā last action had stunned him. No, heād been beyond shocked. What new god could copy Viscount-ranked art in mere moments from seeing it?
āHeās dangerous.ā
In all of history, there have been great beings. The faction heads who stood high up in the Crown could be said to be an example.
At one point in time, they had also begun from somewhere. From all the stories heād heard, each of them entered the middle planes and made their names known almost instantly. They were considered geniuses beyond understanding.
The most recent true willers that appeared in the middle plane had been unable to make such a major mark and were doomed to remain at the bottom just like all others.
But as Merek gazed at this newly ascended child, he couldnāt help but feel the same feeling assault him, he was a genius beyond understanding.
But this was why Merek felt wary. They, the Redflames, had already made an enemy of him.
At this point, his ascent to power could only come with their spilled blood. His spilled blood. And Merek would be damned if he allowed such to occur.
āHe needs to die.ā
Merek didnāt say anything to Atticus, he didnāt bother. A predator doesnāt warn prey when they are about to attack. They just do, and do so with finality.
"Letās go."
Merek turned to leave, but a cold voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Come."
Merek didnāt move. He was a Viscount, and with the people currently present, no one dared to command him.
The command hadnāt been for him. Merek finished his turn and his eyes narrowed. Nerrot had... vanished?
"Fāfather!"
Merekās gaze snapped towards the sound and his eyes blazed fire.
"What is the meaning of this!?" His voice boomed.
Nerrot, along with Jargon, his fleet, and the wall of warriors had appeared behind Atticus. Behind the child god.
Merek realized what had just happened. Atticus had won the game. He had won Nerrotās world and now, he was his god. Only a god could control their subject with such absolution.
The Viscountās shout blazed like an inferno, but Atticus didnāt seem to hear it. In fact, he didnāt seem to see him. His eyes were focused on himself.
āItās a great haul.ā He thought. He had made massive gains from absorbing Nerrotās will.
āI canāt wait to merge his world.ā
He could feel the connection. It was strong, but the world was far.
āUp there.ā
It was at a higher elevation than where his world currently was, which was at the bottom.
āWeāll probably ascend when I merge it.ā
The stronger a godās world was, the higher they ascended, and the higher they ascended, the stronger the effects of the plane will. Still, Atticus couldnāt wait to ascend.
He suddenly felt a shift in temperature. A sudden spike.
He left his thoughts and finally glanced at the Viscount. The space around him had become a furnace. Heat spilled from him with such force it seemed as though space was boiling.
"What are you doing?" Viscount Merek seethed, but Atticus didnāt answer him.
He stretched out his arm and focused, Nerrot appeared before him, arm gripping his neck tightly.
"Nāno! What are you doing!? Fāfather! Fāfatherā!"
Atticus tightened his grip before he could finish speaking. Nerrot thrashed and shook, unable to speak or even scream. He tried to pry Atticusā arms open but they were like iron.
Atticusā will engulfed him and Nerrot felt an unimaginable heat assault him.
His eyes turned bloodshot, large veins snaking up through his neck as he fought through the pain. It was excruciating.
"My liege!"
Jargon thundered as he shot forward, unsheathing his sword. The other warriors didnāt remain still. They all brandished their weapons, surging towards Atticus with lethal intent.
But just as their swords were about to rain down on him, Atticusā will spread.
Despite its moderate speed, his will felt so hot it was like a nuclear blast had ensued. Jargon and the warriors could barely let out a scream before they were reduced to ashes, and then nothingness.
"Arrrrrrrg!"
But Nerrot didnāt have such luxury. His burning was slow, excruciating.
Viscount Merek watched everything occur silently. Atticus had held Nerrot to face him, letting him see just how much agony he was putting his son through.
Merek didnāt move. Rather, he couldnāt. He knew how futile it was. Atticus had appeared at the boundary of his world the moment he captured Nerrot.
Even with all his power as a Viscount, he couldnāt force or attack Atticus or his world.
Now that he was Nerrotās god, he held the say in whatever happens. And it just so turned out that he wanted to kill him, brutally at that.
Nerrot finally bit the dust, his body reduced to nothing. And silence descended upon the area.
"You will pay for this." Merekās voice was lava. "I promise you."
He vanished, taking his fury and heat along with him.