บท 870: Cold

The next day, Atticus woke early and began his usual routine. The room was silent except for the faint hum of spiritual energy as he meditated, sharpening his Omnicognition and refining his spiritual eye. He still remembered the conversation he had with his parents the day before and he couldn't help but frown.

Still, his focus remained razor sharp, time slipping by unnoticed until he felt a familiar presence approaching his door.

With a sigh, he stood up. "Come in," he said, just as the person outside raised a hand to knock.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing Arya. She hesitated in the doorway, frozen for a moment before steadying herself and stepping inside.

"Young master," she said softly, bowing formally.

"Arya." Atticus smiled, saying her name as though testing her reaction.

She glanced at him briefly before looking away, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Atticus's gaze didn't waver. "Have you been avoiding me?"