[Swordplay - Origin 1]
Atticus studied the new chrysanthemum blooming within his pond essence.
This must be the result of the ritualistic sword dance, he couldn't help but feel elated, it wasn't the budding chrysanthemum from before.
This one was entirely new.
After waking up in his own room, tilted his head in confusion, piecing together fragments of what had transpired.
With a lingering sense of unease and curiosity, he entered the Immortal Core.
The ritualistic sword dance had granted him a regenerative power, accompanied by a permanent enhancement to his essence.
Initially, he had gained a self-sustaining essence, which had now doubled in output, trickling at a steady two ounces.
His pond water reservoir had risen to 52%, indicating that the ritualistic dance had expended 5% of his reserves, but it had also rewarded him with a substantial 20% increase in primal essence.
In simpler terms, after accounting for the expenditure, he had gained a net increase of 15% in primal essence overall.
"Ah, at last, I may bathe once more."
Without hesitation, she began to undress, her shadowy, indistinct form slipping gracefully into the pond of essence, treating it as though it were nothing more than a common bath.
"Wait. Answer my question first."
Unperturbed, she continued stepping into the pond, exuding an air of unabashed entitlement.
Her gaze lingered on him, accompanied by a distorted smile.
"Well? Go on."
Atticus's brow twitched, as his demeanor shifting abruptly to one of unwavering seriousness.
"Are you the one we performed the ritualistic dance for?"
"My, my. That's for you to unravel."
He gave a subtle nod, deciding not to press the matter further; archaics were unfathomable to begin with.
"How many times can I perform the ritualistic sword dance?"
Atticus suspecting that such a blessing, so potent, couldn't come without limits.
"Such a ritual can be performed no more than twice a month."
It was far beyond what he had expected.
When he was taught by the Ancient Humans, their presence and forms had felt profoundly alien, almost otherworldly. The entire experience bordered on the surreal, leaving him both captivated and unsettled.
And as for Priestess Umbra, he could only hope those intrusive thoughts were confined to his own mind.
"Care to explain, uh… the aftereffects?"
"After the dance ritual, as you may have noticed, the surroundings become more vibrant, almost as if they've been infused with life itself. For Ancient Humans, the ritual leaves them invigorated, refreshed, and with heightened mental clarity."
Her lips curled into a twisted, almost mischievous smile.
"Well, for you, it affects you that way because you're a virgin."
Atticus felt the words hit him like an arrow straight to the heart.
"Greenhorn. Inexperienced. Maidenless. Cherry boy—"
"Wait, wait—alright, stop! I get it!"
As he turned to leave the Immortal Core, Hesperia's voice echoed after him.
"I suggest you take a moment to witness the aftermath of your ritual."
He paused briefly, giving her a curt nod, then turned and exited without another word.
***
Atticus pulled out his RuneVox and navigated to his main page.
RuneVox served integrating the Aurelian Academy's ever-updated student rankings. It was a constant reminder of their standing and progress within the competitive academy.
At the same time, it doubled as a social platform where students could interact with one another.
Profiles could be "hearted" to show admiration or approval, though notably, the option to "dislike" was absent. Comments, however, were fair game, and often served as a breeding ground for heated exchanges.
Well, that's too fast, as expected.
[This inbred thinks he is him.]
[Bro is the founder of Alpha and Sigma energy.]
[How dare you accuse our Saintness of reading a smut book, you plebeian!]
[Bro is probably colorblind; he can't tell low-Yellow from low-Silver.]
[Really? A slum dweller and a low-Yellow in Class Seraph? Has the world reversed itself? What's next, I marry Shamus?]
[Keep dreaming, Bozo. This is reality.]
[What a coward, refusing to even face my challenge!]
[She has every right to be a spoiled brat, you bastard, she was born that way!]
[This mongrel is truly done for.]
An army of scathing comments flooded, turning his entire main page into a collective chastisement.
In social apps.
Montgomery was a singer and dancer; a typical idol.
Shamus was showing off her flawless goddess figure with revealing outfits.
Darshee was posting nothing but nature photos and heavy metal songs.
Sinclair was just posting about being a typical innocent bookish girl.
Venera didn't have any social apps but had millions of hearts on RuneVox profile picture.
As for the other princesses of Class Seraph, they, too, remained conspicuously absent from mainstream platforms.
And the princes of Class Seraph? Best not to delve into their cult-like fanbase.
In RuneVox, users could challenge one another to duels within the Valor of the Arena.
The Valor of the Arena was a grand coliseum of combat—a high-stakes battleground where student status and fortune intertwined. It served as both a proving ground for the ambitious and a spectacle for an eager audience, blending prestige with profit in a ruthless display of skill and strategy.
Atticus licked his lips, the money would come to him on its own, a blessing in every sense.
Just as he had orchestrated, these simps would now be drained to the last drop, one by one.
He glanced at the overwhelming flood of duel requests, hundreds, if not more. Some were wrapped in lofty speeches about honor, while others were little more than ceaseless streams of insults, goading him to respond.
Atticus declined every single one.
Why bother accepting when there was no true reward at stake?
Instead, he began a transaction with the Valor of Arena committee, securing their involvement.
Moments later, a post appeared on their official website, authored by none other than him.
[Valor of Arena]
[Contender: Atticus]
[Core Rank: Low Yellow]
[Reward: 14th place in the Class of Seraph, along with the right to issue one command of your choosing.]
[Comment: A swarm of buzzing flies greeted me on my RuneVox. Hopefully, you'll manage not to bore me when we fight.]
[Fee of challenging: 36,000 Aetheris for Arcanum; 18,000 Aetheris for Basilisk; 6,000 Aetheris for Crimson. ]
The students of the Aurelian Academy of Eminence were shocked by the exorbitant fees required to challenge him.
Aetheris, the academy's exclusive currency, held an extraordinary value when exchanged beyond its walls, amounting to nearly a hundredfold increase in worth.
To put it in perspective, 300 Aetheris could sustain an average family for a month, while 3,000 Aetheris would be more than enough to purchase a decent home.
What is Class Seraph?
It offers a cornucopia of benefits: free meals, discounted prices, access to advanced training technologies, complimentary grimoire, a generous allowance, VIP treatment and most importantly, invaluable connections.
The Seraph Class consists of princes and princesses, scions of the most powerful families—individuals destined to shape the future, befriending them could mean standing alongside living legends in the making.
[I guess I'm a new member of Class Seraph.]
[Why are you all acting like third rate villains? Can you at least stop and think why he got into Class Seraph in the first place?]
[How about I stop your breathing entirely and let you ponder where I've buried you instead?]
[What the hell is this?! Some kind of philosophy class or someshit?]
[If I were to enter Class Seraph, does that mean Darshee might finally step on me?]
[You are beyond saving, my guy.]
[He's kinda hot, though.]
[Shut the fuck up, thot! Literally no one asked for your opinion.]
[No, you shut the fuck up! Look at your hobgoblin face paired with that cringe hentai profile pic!]
[Issue any one command? You are fuck buddy.]