Atticus felt his entire form twisting, and in the next instant, he was high up in the sky.
The wind whipped around him with intensity, blowing his hair and clothes backward as he fell at incredible speed.
The coldness in his eyes remained unchanged, his left hand gripping the hilt of his katana as he descended silently. When his feet finally touched the ground, the warped air around him settled.
Despite the height from which he had fallen, there wasn't a single ripple on the ground upon his landing.
Before doing anything else, Atticus conducted a brief inspection of himself.
'My space storage isn't working, but I can't feel any restrictions on myself. I can access all my elements, my mana isn't restricted. Everything is just as I remember.'
