The air molecules around Atticus trembled, each of them combusting into a fiery blaze.
The members of the group, who had been completely focused on their tasks, paused their actions, each of them turning their gazes towards Atticus.
"No way,"
Their gazes simultaneously widened as they witnessed the ongoing scene.
The instructor moved forward slowly, walking past the shocked students and standing a few meters in front of Atticus. Both hands were folded on his chest, looking at Atticus with a serious expression.
However, Atticus remained completely still and focused. He could feel each of those intense gazes boring into him, but he paid them no heed.
Atticus focused on fire and fire only. His control over the molecules didn't end with just creating fire. Atticus was glad to find out that the molecules weren't destroyed when they combusted; in fact, they were each like tiny pieces that made up the formless fire.
The fire suddenly coalesced in front of Atticus, starting from the bottom. The figures of two feet began to form.
It was insanely hard. Atticus had to split his attention between three different points. The first was the fire wrapping around his feet. He made sure its temperature stayed the same as the flaming flat summit.
The second was keeping each of the molecules burning at the same rate and temperature. Constantly controlling millions of molecules together was not easy, to say the least.
And lastly, using the remainder of his focus to control the molecules into forming the desired shape needed!
It was as though he was stacking tiny molecules on top of each other and trying to form something coherent.
Atticus didn't rush, nor did he try to do more than he could handle. He made sure he took his sweet time; there was no need to rush.
Truly, it was a lot for one teenager.
But luckily, Atticus had never been normal.
The area around Atticus was quiet. The group members had long since stopped whatever they were doing, each of them looking at Atticus with serious expressions.
It wasn't only them; some of the other groups had noticed something odd about their actions, each of them turning and approaching the scene. The shock that enveloped the students and instructors alike when they saw Atticus's perfect fire was palpable.
Little by little, molecule by molecule, the time passed. After 30 minutes, the form of a single leg was formed, from the foot to the knee.
At this point, there was not a single person on the first summit who wasn't watching Atticus.
Compared to the instructor's display, he was moving at a snail's pace. However, none of them watching complained, not even a single sneer.
It didn't matter how slow he was moving; what mattered was he was moving correctly!
Another 30 minutes passed, and the other leg was formed. Atticus had no plans of stopping.
Atticus continued this action for a while, the perfect image of Magnus taking shape. He could vividly remember everything to the last details, even its temperature.
Then Atticus opened his eyes slowly, his gaze landing on the numerous men and women staring his way.
No, not at him; their gazes were fixed on the perfect image of Magnus in front of him.
It had taken more than four hours, but in the end, he had done it. He had replicated the instructor's work.
The aged man walked towards Atticus, his hands trembling as he reached forward to touch the fire construct.
"H-how?"
His voice sounded strained, his current feelings even more so. The other students went through different sets of emotions, each one more intense than the last. However, it was the instructors who were the most shocked.
At this point, it was easy to guess, considering the four lit flames behind their backs and their old age.
Each of the instructors were simply students who hadn't been able to surpass the fifth summit and become a Grandmaster. Those who were good enough had been retained.
In their decades of learning and teaching in the fire sanctum, they had never once come across such a thing in their lives.
He was 16 years old.
He was in the Expert+ rank.
He had literally arrived a few hours ago.
And yet, he had passed the first summit?
Two emotions passed through each one of their hearts. The first was unrequited fear towards what was undeniably the monster standing in front of them, and the second, absolute and utter awe. His fire was beautiful.
The shocked expression on the aged instructor's face suddenly morphed into a smile, his gaze turning to focus on Atticus, who had a few drops of sweat marring his forehead.
"Young master, I apologize for my earlier transgressions!"
The aged instructor abruptly bowed down 90 degrees, his form remaining still as though he had no intention of moving until Atticus gave the word.
This talent… it was otherworldly.
The question wasn't if Atticus deserved to be in the fire sanctum; it was whether the sanctum was up to standard in the first place!
The other instructors followed his actions until they all ended up bowing to him. The students were at a loss on what to do. The instructors had just bowed all of a sudden. They each ended up having to join them, their figures bowing.
Meanwhile, Atticus gazed at each of them with an exhausted look on his face. He had strained himself, and he was truly already tired.
The reactions of the onlookers had certainly shocked him, but Atticus was already all too used to situations like this. It didn't phase him.
Just as he was about to ask if he had passed the test and leave, Atticus paused.
Was he stupid? Why the hell would he want to waste such a good opportunity?
Atticus didn't believe in being protected or in a strength that wasn't directly his, but that didn't change the fact that the Ravenstein family would be a useful force to have. This was the perfect place to start a following!
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