Atticus awoke to a pounding in his head, the taste of iron thick on his tongue. He was sprawled on a cold, damp stone floor, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and something metallic. Groaning, he pushed himself up, wincing at the sharp pain that lanced through his chest.His memories returned in a rush – the corrupted forest, the fight with the beasts, the crimson orb. He looked down at his chest, expecting to see a gaping wound, but instead found only a faint red imprint where the orb had struck him.Confusion clouded his mind. Where was he? Had he been captured by those robed figures? Just then, a booming voice echoed in the chamber, vibrating the very stones beneath his feet."Welcome, heir. You have passed the initial test." Atticus whipped his head around, searching for the source of the voice. His gaze fell upon a colossal statue, its features vaguely familiar. It was a monstrous entity, its eyes glowing with an eerie crimson light."The power within you will need tim

A guttural roar, primal and raw, erupted from Atticus' throat, echoing through the cavernous chamber. It was a sound ripped from the depths of his very being, a violent counterpoint to the crimson energy swirling around him. The true spectral form of the Devourer came to being, a monstrosity of condensed demonic power that resembled a grotesque amalgamation of fangs, claws, and burning eyes, writhed in response. It had expected a willing vessel, a blank canvas upon which to etch its malevolent will. Instead, it encountered a raging inferno, a soul unwilling to be subdued.Within Atticus, a desperate struggle unfolded on a metaphysical plane. The spectral essence of the Devourer, fueled by an insatiable hunger that had devoured countless souls across countless worlds, lashed out. Tendrils of inky darkness, reeking of sulfur and decay, snaked towards his very soul, seeking to ensnare it in an eternal prison. But Atticus, fueled by a potent cocktail of defiance and the system's timely in

The walk to the healing faculty was a somber one. Atticus replayed the scene with the Professor in his head, a sliver of unease settling in his gut. Was the demonic energy leak really that suspicious enough to be linked with him though?He suddenly felt that they let him off too easily, though from the vice dean's reaction to his words, he clearly knew something. Atticus reached the grand entrance, a two-story building adorned with vibrant murals depicting mythical creatures being healed by benevolent light.Pushing open the heavy oak doors, he found himself in a brightly lit reception area. A gentle melody filled the air, emanating from a nearby harp played by a serene woman with eyes closed in concentration. He approached the receptionist's desk, a friendly-looking woman with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile."Hello, I'm Atticus Bloodhound," he greeted, placing his student ID badge on the counter. "Professor Ragnar sent me for a mandatory check-up after returning from the Myriad

The first rays of dawn peeked through the blinds, rousing Atticus from sleep. He stretched, the exhaustion of the previous day replaced by a nervous anticipation. Today was the main event of the Skyfall Trial, and the stakes were high. A mid-tier Earth Grade weapon was within reach, a prize that could significantly bolster his cultivation. After a quick breakfast and a light meditation session, Atticus made his way towards the venue for the event – the Skyreach Arena, a vast outdoor arena managed by the Beast Taming Faculty. As he approached, the bustling energy of the event washed over him. The arena was a marvel of engineering, an open-air coliseum built around a colossal circular track that soared high into the sky. The track, dotted with various obstacles and shimmering speed boosts, resembled a giant serpent coiling upwards.The atmosphere crackled with excitement. A throng of students milled about, their voices a cacophony of cheers, nervous chatter, and excited banter. Around

The prickling sensation intensified, sharpening into a distinct sense of malice. Atticus stopped short, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger concealed beneath his cloak. He didn't need to turn around to know who was approaching - the acrid scent of cheap liquor and arrogance announced their arrival before they did.Emerging from a shadowy alleyway were three figures, their clothes disheveled and faces etched with a sneer. Their ragged movements and sloppy postures marked them not as students, but as petty thugs scraping by on the fringes of the town. A quick scan revealed their energy signatures – all three pulsated with the faint glow of the early Spirit Gathering realm.Atticus narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. He could easily overpower these ruffians, but resorting to violence in the heart of a neutral zone wouldn't be ideal. Still, a lesson needed to be learned."Looking for trouble, boys?" Atticus inquired, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.The lead thug, a hulki