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Seraphin's expression suddenly morphed, transforming into an icy look so cold it could freeze fire as he spat out,

"I'll kill you."

Atticus's expression didn't once change during this transition. In fact, he wasn't even the least bit surprised by this development.

In simpler terms, Atticus didn't give a damn why the smiling and hyper boy was suddenly showing such an intense amount of hatred towards him.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, there was only one thing Atticus wanted to do, the same thing he always did when faced with situations like this.

"I see, okay then," Atticus's calm voice suddenly rang out, making Seraphin's gaze narrow into pinpricks.

He had been expecting Atticus to be at least a bit surprised by this sudden development, but Atticus looked completely unfazed, as though he had been expecting it from the start.

Atticus's cold words continued,

"I am going to give you a chance to kill me. I've been practicing something called 'nipping the bud before it could become bothersome,' and that's exactly what I'm about to do."

Atticus didn't pause or give Seraphin a chance to speak. His piercing blue eyes became even colder as he continued,

"I am going to beat you up to an extent that you will never be a bother to me again in your life. So, if you can, kill me."

Seraphin's expression darkened, the gem embedded in his forehead letting out an intense glow as he thundered,

"You fucking bast-"

As Seraphin opened his mouth to speak, a sudden, searing slap struck his left cheek with astonishing force.

The impact rippled across his skin like waves, sending Seraphin hurtling backward with brutal force. He collided with the wall, his body skidding down its surface for several meters, a world of pain engulfing him.

Gasping for breath, Seraphin struggled to steady himself, his knees buckling as he landed heavily on one.

"W-what just happened?" he mumbled.

But in the next instant, he suddenly felt a tingling sensation on his left cheek, and Seraphin slowly moved his hand towards that spot, his hand trembling as he moved.

As soon as his hand felt the now swollen left cheek, a surreal feeling completely engulfed Seraphin.

It was a feeling he had felt before in his life, but it had never been this intense before - complete and utter disbelief.

Did he just get… slapped?

On his cheek?

This was something Seraphin found hard, very hard to grapple with. No matter how much he thought about it, he just couldn't comprehend it.

He, a Tier One, got slapped?

As Seraphin came to this realization, he shakily turned his gaze upwards and instantly saw the cold, piercing blue eyes of Atticus looking down at him.

Seraphin erupted.

The gem embedded in Seraphin's forehead erupted with a blinding brilliance, unleashing a torrent of scorching inferno that engulfed the space around him.

His form ignited in a dazzling display of light, as if he had become a miniature sun, radiating intense heat in all directions as he went supernova.

However, as the searing wave surged towards Atticus, the air seemed to warp and distort in front of him, the wave passing through Atticus as though he were merely a phantom, leaving him untouched and unscathed.

Atticus's cold gaze landed on the blazing form of Seraphin. His figure was engulfed in a swirling maelstrom of intense golden light, radiating heat that instantly spiked the temperature in the air to staggering levels.

Atticus watched as a radiant armor suddenly started contorting and forming from the heart of the luminous inferno

The armor bore intricate designs reminiscent of ancient Chinese craftsmanship, with elegant motifs and ornate patterns etched into its gleaming surface.

Atticus had no doubt that it was a powerful artifact. But how powerful? He was yet to find out.

It seemed as though Seraphin's shoes weren't equipped to handle this intense amount of heat as they each began to buckle and warp, unable to withstand the extreme temperature.

But the boy in question didn't even care. In fact, he didn't care about anything else anymore.

He only cared about one and only one person currently, and it was this same person that his seething gaze was focused on.

Seraphin didn't utter any words. There was no need to.

Atticus had the guts to lay a hand on him; there could be no other option. He would make sure he regretted that action for the rest of his life.

Seraphin's body leaned forward abruptly, teetering on the edge of falling. But just as it seemed he would, he suddenly exploded forward with tremendous force, the ground quaking beneath him as he propelled himself through the air.

A shockwave rippled outward from his departure point, leaving shimmering golden afterimages in his wake as he closed the distance between himself and Atticus in the blink of an eye.

His hand clutched a radiant spear, its form gleaming with intense energy as he unleashed a ferocious thrust aimed directly at Atticus's throat.

It was very obvious that Seraphin went for the kill from the start. He wasn't joking around.

But unfortunately for him, the one he was currently battling was Atticus.

Atticus's expression maintained its icy look.

Despite the fact that the speed Seraphin was currently moving at shouldn't be trackable with the naked eye, Atticus's gaze followed Seraphin's every movement with such boredom, as though he were watching a turtle move.

Atticus's movements were simple.

With perfect and calculated timing, Atticus's form abruptly sidestepped, his movement so fast it looked as though he had teleported to Seraphin.

With Atticus out of the way, Seraphin's deadly thrust met no target except the unfeeling air, and before Seraphin had time to muster up another attack, he suddenly found his vision covered by a hand.

Before Seraphin could react, Atticus's firm hand gripped his head with such abruptness that Seraphin's gathered momentum was abruptly stopped, his torso and legs jerking forward as his head was halted.

And with a swift and deliberate swirl, Seraphin's form was brutally slammed onto the unforgiving floor.