Chapter 217: Chapter 217 - His Name Is Atlas
Atlas’s eyes snapped open.
For a moment, he expected to hear the rumble of more explosions. Roaring shockwaves, crashing debris, the thunder of battle.
But what he felt instead... was silence.
A gentle breeze brushed against his face. And when his vision cleared, he saw her, Lyrassa.
She was smiling down at him, soft and warm, her blond hair catching the filtered sunlight that broke through the dense canopy. Atlas realized then, he was resting on her lap. His head tilted slightly, her hand gently wrapped around his left, cool and steady.
"You’re alright, My Lord," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Atlas blinked. His body ached all over, and his head throbbed from the overload of spells he’d unleashed. But more than anything, he was alive.
He glanced around, quickly scanning the area. They were a distance away from the scorched battlefield, now nestled in the shadow of a massive tree. It seemed Lyrassa had carried him away from the epicenter of his own destruction.
Atlas exhaled and slowly shifted, resting his back against the same tree, shoulder brushing against hers.
He was still grounding himself when her voice returned.
"You unleashed skill after skill... magic without pause. Your level-ups brought you back from the brink... but not even that could shield your body from the toll."
Her voice was like wind through leaves.
"You collapsed, your vessel overwhelmed. But you did it, My Lord. Perfectly. Fifteen monsters, each nearly twice your level. All slain by your will. The last few were finished off by the others."
Atlas took a long, deep breath.
Then, slowly, he opened his status screen.
Just how many levels did I gain?
[Name: Atlas Blackthorn]
[Level: 74]
[Strength: 250 | Agility: 170 | Intelligence: 170 | Constitution: 150 | Stamina: 150]
[Available Stat Points: 105]
[Job: The Lord]
[Class: Tempest Warden]
Ten levels.
Ten. Whole. Levels!
Atlas stared at the glowing numbers on his stat screen, a slow, satisfied smile pulling across his face.
He’d actually done it.
And now, he’d jumped ten levels in one day.
Worth it. Every ounce of pain. Every skill cast. Every drop of mana and drop of blood spilled. This... this was the kind of result that justified every risk.
The monsters he fought were especially weak to fire-based damage. The explosions had ripped through their defenses like paper, dealing catastrophic damage that no ordinary attack could have managed. Combine that with his own relentless barrage of water and lightning spells, amplified by his level-up refresh boosts, and the result was devastating.
Atlas wasn’t delusional, though.
He knew this kind of EXP gain wouldn’t last.
As his level continued to rise, the rewards would shrink. The system was built to slow people down. The greater the gap between you and your enemies, the more rewarding the kill. But as that gap closed... the climb would steepen.
Still, he had room to grow.
And he had more monsters to kill.
Atlas leaned his head back against the tree, breathing in the earthy scent of the forest.
The sky had begun to dim. The rich golds of evening shifted toward dusk, casting long shadows between the ancient roots and colossal trees.
It was almost night.
"Edrik and the others are still out hunting," Lyrassa added softly.
Atlas gave a slow nod, "I’ve still got 25 explosives left," he murmured. "That should be enough for two more full strikes."
Lyrassa turned her head to him, eyes gentle.
"But... it’s alright," he said after a moment, exhaling deeply. "I think I’ll postpone the next round until tomorrow."
He knew his limits, and he had just reached them.
Even doing it once had pushed him to the edge of collapse. The power was incredible, the results undeniable, but this kind of strategy couldn’t be repeated endlessly. Not without consequence. And besides, he had time.
A short while later, Edrik and the others returned from their hunt. Their armor carried signs of combat, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and quiet victory. They’d fought their own share of monsters, and won.
Atlas glanced at the sky again. The last slivers of light were bleeding from the horizon.
He wasn’t going to risk staying the night here.
Too many monsters. Too many unpredictable Lords moving through the shadows. It wasn’t worth the gamble.
With quiet efficiency, the team regrouped, gathered their supplies, and soon after. They began their return to Shattered Ember.
Pulling another gacha tonight? Now that
sounds like the perfect way to celebrate a ten-level jump in one day!**
A man with long white hair sat silently in the shadowed corner of the chamber, his white cloak flowing loosely over light armor etched with subtle patterns of silver. Around him, the rest of the room was thick with tension. The atmosphere was sharp, the kind that came before storms. Not of weather, but of war.
"Kaelzar... defeated by a Rank-1 Lord? This is an insult! A disgrace!" someone roared across the room.
Kareem, the leader of the alliance, lifted his head slowly. His face was stone, his jaw clenched tight. The strain was obvious now, even in someone known for cold control.
"And it’s the same Lord we once considered inviting into the alliance," another voice added bitterly.
The mention of that name hung in the air like a blade.
"Atlas," someone said. "He was also on the list of possible suspects behind Soren’s death. One of the few Lords who wasn’t ruled out."
Kareem’s eyes sharpened. "So you’re telling me... you failed to assess this Lord properly?"
A ripple of discomfort passed through the gathered strategists. One of them quickly stepped forward, speaking fast and nervously.
"The team that scouted the area where Soren’s final battle took place... At the time, Atlas’s island appeared to be weak. Only a handful of people were seen. No notable defenses. It seemed like a minor threat, hardly worth noting."
Silence fell again.
Kareem’s voice was cold and low as it cut through it.
"Does he belong to an alliance? Who backs him?"
"According to recent reports, he formed an alliance during the Dominion Skirmish. He’s the leader. But... It’s a small group. Three women, none of them considered high potential. Three Rank-2 Lords."
Kareem’s hand clenched into a fist.
"Find this Lord. Atlas. If he’s bold enough to stain our alliance’s name. He’ll answer for it."
Another advisor stepped forward. "Our latest intelligence places them on a hunting expedition at the far edge of Saharasia. It seems their island is beginning to drift. Possibly moving regions. They may be trying to escape."
Kareem’s gaze darkened. "Will they cross before the next Lord Season begins?"
"At their current speed, yes. Their island will reach the edge before the season starts. If that happens. They’ll be beyond our reach."
Kareem stood slowly, the weight of his authority settling over the room like a shroud.
"Then we move now. Hunt them before they cross. Bring in a Rank-3 Lords. Block the portals to their island. Seal every exit. I want them cut off."
His voice dropped to a near growl.
"Capture Atlas. Bring him to me alive. And burn down the name of his alliance before it even begins to rise."