Chapitre 847: Crumble

Atticus's gaze narrowed, his instincts screaming like a blaring horn. He leapt again, vanishing and reappearing in the next instant, his movements sharp and precise.

Every time he dodged, the labyrinth shifted, closing in tighter, but Atticus remained calm. His mind worked quickly, planning his next move.

Atticus was in a surreal state. His bond with Ozeroth had opened his mind to countless possibilities, leaving him in what could only be described as "the zone."

Everything felt natural. In this state, techniques he had learned from other races came to him effortlessly, allowing him to use them even against a paragon.

But he knew this situation was dangerous.

Atticus's instincts screamed again, and his body flickered away just in time to avoid a gate closing in on him.

'This place bends to his will. I can't fight it directly.'

His hand hovered near his katana, his aura flaring.

'Then I'll bend him to mine.' His gaze turned cold.