Chapter 832 me


    The sound of water sshing echoed across the quiet underground world.


    Elder Lorthan stared at the ripples on the spiritualke, his expression frozen in disbelief.


    He had just exined the dangers and pain that awaited Atticus in theke, yet the boy hadn''t shown the slightest hint of hesitation. It hadn''t fazed him at all.


    Lorthan had never seen a 17-year-old so fearless in his life. It should have been a moment to make any elder smile with pride. However, coldness filled Lorthan''s face instead.


    It was as though, the moment Atticus entered theke, a switch had been flipped. Every trace of the sagely calm aura Lorthan carried vanished, reced by an icy gaze fixed firmly on theke.


    ''Such a shame,'' he thought bitterly.


    Atticus Ravenstein, the greatest genius humanity had ever seen. A boy foretold to raise humanity to unprecedented heights. A boy whose potential was immeasurable, destined to stand at the top.


    Yet, to Lorthan, it was now all meaningless.


    ''This will be where he meets his end,'' he thought grimly.


    Lorthan had devoted his entire life to the spirits. After bonding with one, he had chosen to forsake everything to live in the underground world with them.


    To him, his very existence was meant to serve them. His devotion ran that deep. This was why, upon learning that Atticus had summoned an enemy of the spirits and still intended to bond with it, he immediately saw him as an enemy.


    ''It can''t be helped. He chose this…''


    His thoughts were interrupted as the air around him suddenly shifted.


    ''They''re here,'' Lorthan realized, his gaze sharpening.


    The spiritual energy in the area thickened, bing so dense it was almost suffocating. The ground trembled faintly beneath his feet as gravity seemed to press down like an invisible weight.


    In the blink of an eye, they appeared.


    Dozens of figures, over thirty in number, materialized near the twisted roots of the eternal canopy.


    Each one wore dark purple robes etched with intricate, ethereal patterns that glowed faintly, resembling the spirits hovering in the air.


    They all exuded a suffocating aura, unmistakably grandmaster-level power. Despite the calming presence of the eternal canopy, their bloodlust was staggering, saturating the air with an almost unbearable intensity.


    Each had the signature purple hair of the Starhaven bloodline, and their cold, piercing eyes locked onto Lorthan with an iciness that made the temperature plummet.


    "Lorthan," a deep, resonant voice broke through the oppressive silence.


    Lorthan turned sharply, his cold gaze locking onto the man who had spoken. At the center of the group stood a towering figure who was undoubtedly their leader.


    ''He came here himself?'' Lorthan''s brow furrowed in surprise. There wasn''t a soul in Sector 8 who didn''t know this man.


    His features were sharp as a de, his jawline angr, and his eyes radiated danger. Though he wore the same purple robes as the others, the patterns on his robes were darker, almost like veins pulsing with spiritual energy.


    Veylor Starhaven, leader of the Crimson Vow.


    The Crimson Vow was a notorious terrorist group within the Starhaven sector, infamous for their extremism. They worshipped the spirits as divine beings and saw themselves as their enforcers.


    To them, any perceived threat to the spirits had to be eradicated without mercy. Their devotion was absolute, and their methods brutally unforgiving.


    Lorthan''s expression grew colder, his disgust toward the group, and especially its leader, apparent.


    Though he loved and devoted his life to the spirits, the Crimson Vow''s actions brought nothing but chaos to the Starhaven sector.


    Their cruelty knew no bounds, they even believed that Starhaven bloodline members who couldn''t bond with spirits were defective and needed to be killed without mercy.


    Lorthan didn''t believe in their methods, but now he had no choice but to swallow his dissatisfaction. They had amon enemy to deal with.


    As Veylor stepped forward, two men nked him, a pair of elderly twins with matching twisted smirks.


    The twins, along with Veylor, radiated the strongest auras of the group.


    One of the twins tilted his head, sneering. "Look at him, brother. He calls us here because he can''t handle it himself, and yet he still dares to look at us with disgust. What a hypocrite."


    The other twin chuckled. "You''d think the overseer of the Spirit Lake would have some backbone. But no, here he is, terrified of a 17-year-old."


    The first twin grinned. "He''s probably hoping we''ll help him fish that boy out of theke. What do you think, Darran? Should we lend him a hand?"


    Darranughed, crossing his arms. "Depends. Do you think he''d beg for it? I''d love to see the great Elder Lorthan on his knees."


    Lorthan''sposure cracked as his voice rose sharply. "You bastards!"


    Before he could act, a figure appeared from behind the group. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Lorthan immediately bowed. "Young Master Kan," he greeted with respect.


    Kan''s icy gaze silenced him instantly. "Stand down, Elder. Remember why we''re here."


    Lorthan clenched his fists but didn''t argue further, stepping back with his aura now restrained.


    His fanatical devotion to the spirits had always made him admire and worship those who bonded with higher-tier spirits.


    It was this same devotion that had made him ept Kan''s offer without hesitation. Like Kan, Lorthan didn''t want Atticus to "sully" Zoey''s bloodline.


    Kan turned to Veylor, a faint smile on his lips. "I see you came prepared. Are you ready?"


    Veylor smiled faintly in return, though his expression had no warmth. "This should be simple. He may be capable of fighting grandmasters, but no one escapes the effects of the spiritualke."


    Kan''s smile widened as his gaze shifted to theke.


    ''Finally,'' he thought with a sense of satisfaction.


    He had nned everything meticulously.


    What Lorthan had conveniently failed to mention to Atticus was that during the synchronization process, the body would endure immense stress and strain.


    By the end, he would bepletely exhausted and weak. This was especially so when the amount of mana in the individual''s body that needed to synchronize with the spiritual energy was immense. In the worst cases, individuals couldn''t even lift a finger, let alone fight.


    Kan had anticipated that Atticus would eventually need theke to progress and had set everything in motion ordingly. Before arriving, he had checked and was d that Seraphina was absent.


    Now, all they had to do was wait for Atticus to emerge. Then, it would all be over.


    ''me yourself for standing in my way,'' Kan thought coldly.


    As the group gathered around theke, the person they were all waiting for was lost in his own world.


    To Atticus, all he could see was darkness, apanied by a tingling sensation spreading across his body.