年轻漂亮的继坶少妇

Chapter 872  Place

The dragon delegate\'s voice was filled with disbelief. It wasn\'t a small claim.

The dragon race prided themselves on the durability of their scales. Grandmaster+ rank dragon scales were among the hardest materials on the planet. For anyone below a paragon rank, it was nearly impossible to destroy them.

Yet, what was he hearing now? Destroyed? It was hard to believe, especially when they had just dismissed the rumors of Atticus battling a paragon as exaggerations.

At this point, the other delegates leaned forward, listening with rapt attention. None of them were strangers to the strength of dragon scales, and their shock mirrored the dragon delegate\'s.

Atticus\'s expression remained calm, unchanging.

"Yes. During my fight in Sector 8, it unfortunately couldn\'t withstand the intensity," he said evenly.

The tension in the room shifted. Delegates exchanged glances, their expressions narrowing.

If the artifact had been destroyed, then perhaps the rumors weren\'t just baseless. Such destruction could only occur in a battle above the Grandmaster+ level. If this were true, did it mean the rumors of Atticus forcing a paragon to retreat were real?

They were torn.

The room fell into a heavy silence, each breath weighed down by the uncertainty and tension.

Then, the Dimensari delegate scoffed, breaking the stillness.

"Why don\'t you shed more light on the incident at Sector 8?" he asked, his tone sharp and dismissive. "We heard the damage caused was… devastating."

There was no respect in his voice, no attempt at diplomacy. It was a command, laced with condescension, as though addressing someone beneath him.

The other delegates listened in, their curiosity piqued.

Avalon and Anastasia\'s expressions darkened, their frowns mirroring those of the Ravensteins watching from the control room. Lyanna\'s gaze narrowed as she tilted her head to the side.

Do they suspect something?

The Ravensteins knew the truth of what had happened in Sector 8. It wasn\'t just the Obsidian Order\'s attack. It was the emergence of a greater threat tied to the Starhaven lineage. A secret the paragons had fought to bury, and were still fighting to contain.

All eyes turned to Atticus, waiting for his response.

It came without hesitation.

"Why?"

His response was a single word, but it carried immense weight. The Dimensari delegate\'s brow furrowed further, his frown deepening.

He didn\'t like the tone. He didn\'t like the audacity of the boy sitting across from him.

"From what I\'ve heard, the Obsidian Order was involved," the delegate said, his voice sharper now, laced with irritation as if he couldn\'t believe he needed to explain himself. "They\'re a global threat, a terrorist plague across all domains. Any information regarding their movements must be shared, for the greater good."

His gaze swept across the Ravensteins at the table, his annoyance clear.

"Allowing the Obsidian Order to attack your domain shows incompetence. Weakness. It\'s no wonder they see humanity as an easy target."

The Ravensteins\' expressions turned colder. The words weren\'t just an observation, they were a direct insult.

In the control room, Lyanna\'s lips curled into a snarl. "I\'d freeze his tongue before he finished that sentence if I were there," she muttered, her grip tightening on the chair\'s armrest. The temperature in the control room dropped noticeably.

But no one at the table spoke. Nôv(el)B\\\\jnn

The Dimensari delegate\'s words, harsh as they were, weren\'t completely wrong. Allowing the Obsidian Order to attack the human domain had indeed been a failure. Sharing information about their movements could potentially help the other races in their mutual fight against the organization.

The Dimensari delegate leaned back slightly, watching Atticus. He was counting on the Vampyros delegate\'s ability to sense intent to gauge whether the young apex was lying.

Atticus\'s response, however, came calmly, his expression unchanging.

But the question wasn\'t about right or wrong. In Eldoralth, it had never been about that.

It was about power.

And Atticus? He held all the power in the room.

His response was simple, his tone measured.

"They attacked Sector 8. I fought them. They ran."

Silence.

The delegates stared at him, waiting for more. But nothing came.

The tension in the room rose sharply, a wave of unspoken emotions pressing down on everyone.

The Dimensari delegate\'s face twisted in anger. His eyes narrowed, his expression almost feral. The audacity. The arrogance. Just what did this boy think of them?

Before he could voice his outrage, another voice cut through the silence.

"You\'re being too much, boy," the Vampyros delegate said coldly, his words like ice. "Do you think because you won some competition by sheer luck, you\'re now untouchable? Know your place."

The air grew colder. A deadly aura seeped from the Vampyros delegate, spreading through the room like a creeping shadow. His killing intent was suffocating, wrapping around everyone like a shroud.

The Vampyros were known for their cold-blooded nature, and their delegate was no exception.

The other delegates exchanged glances but chose not to intervene. They weren\'t here to make alliances or settle disputes, they were here for answers.

At the Ravenstein side of the table, Anastasia moved slightly, as if about to speak. Her anger was clear.

But Avalon reached out, gripping her hand firmly, stopping her.

She turned to him, her eyes filled with questions.

Avalon shook his head, mouthing silently: "Leave it to him."

Anastasia hesitated, her frown deepening. She didn\'t like it, but she trusted her husband\'s judgment. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back, though her gaze remained fixed on her son.

Avalon shifted his attention back to Atticus, his thoughts swirling.

\'What will he do?\'

Atticus was his son, but Avalon couldn\'t claim to understand him completely. There was always something about Atticus, his depth, his resolve, that seemed just out of reach. Only recently had Avalon begun to glimpse his son\'s true perspective on life, death, and power.

Now, like everyone else in the room, Avalon waited.

Atticus\'s expression remained calm, his face unreadable. His glowing purple eyes locked onto the Vampyros delegate.

The shift in his aura was subtle, but unmistakable.

A predator staring down its prey.

The room held its collective breath.

The apex of humanity was about to speak.