Chapter 93 - The Infernal Reach

Atlas stood at the very edge of the island, flanked by his elite subordinates on either side. To his right stood Morganna, Edrik, Baldric, and Kurogasa, while on his left were Lyrassa, Karian, Milo, and Mira.

Behind them, the combat units were lined up neatly, organized into their four respective teams.

The enemy island drew nearer, its features sharpening with every moment. As it approached, its vastness became undeniable—significantly larger than Gacha Haven. The densely built structures hinted at a Lord who had endured numerous battles and had developed their domain into a formidable stronghold.

This time, the two islands hovered at the same altitude, a clear indicator of an impending all-out confrontation. As they closed the distance, the warzone began to materialize in the space between them. Massive chunks of earth ascended from the void, stretching and intertwining to form a bridge—a battleground that connected the two islands at their very center.

The battle, however, would not commence for another 10 minutes. Until then, neither side could engage in combat. Still, the Lords could step into the warzone and meet in the center if they wished, although a protective barrier remained in place, preventing any hostilities before the appointed time.

From the opposing side, their Lord became visible—a figure standing at the forefront and dead center. It was Ragnor of The Infernal Reach.

A towering human warrior, he had long, flowing blonde hair and wore black armor streaked with molten red veins. In his hands, he carried a massive flaming greathammer. 

One striking detail about him, however, was his golden hair—it seemed to slightly undermine the intimidating aura of his hulking physique and his fearsome armor.

Atlas watched as Ragnor descended from his island and strode confidently into the warzone. In response, Atlas stepped down from his own island and began to approach as well. 

Atlas was clad in his Nightfall Sentinel Armor Set—a suit of obsidian-black armor with blue accents radiating an ethereal glow of energy. He had also paired it with the Mana Glider Cloak, which draped over his arms, shoulders, and back, adding a commanding elegance to his already formidable appearance.

The two Lords walked slowly until they met at the center of the warzone. 

Atlas's troops stood with stern and determined gazes, their focus evident. Meanwhile, the opposing forces appeared much more relaxed, some wearing faint smirks and even letting out quiet chuckles. Their demeanor made it clear—they underestimated the smaller force before them, whose numbers seemed barely a quarter of their own.

"Atlas of the Gacha Haven," Ragnor said, his gaze slightly downward due to his taller stature.

"Ragnor of The Infernal Reach," Atlas replied, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of mockery in its composure.

"Are you a new Lord?"

"This is my first battle season," Atlas answered evenly.

Ragnor's lips curved into a faint smirk. "I can see where that confidence comes from."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"You're leading your people straight to their graves."

"Sorry?" Atlas arched a brow. "Whose graves exactly?"

Ragnor's smirk lingered. He seemed to realize Atlas showed no trace of fear, responding instead with a calm defiance, even laced with subtle mockery.

"I'm a humble man," Ragnor said.

"And what does that mean?"

"I'll give you five minutes."

"For what?"

"When the battle begins, I'll allow you five minutes to surrender," Ragnor said. "If you waste that time… I will kill everyone. I'll leave nothing behind."

Atlas paused for a moment, meeting Ragnor's gaze before replying, "You surely are confident in yourself."

"Confidence comes from experience."

"I agree with you, Ragnor. Confidence does come from experience."

They locked eyes in silence before Atlas finally spoke. "I'll give you two minutes. If you don't surrender before that time, I will ensure no one on your side is left standing."

As Atlas's words echoed across the warzone, the reaction from Ragnor's side was instantaneous. Laughter erupted, as his troops jeered openly.

"Did he just say two minutes? Oh, that's generous! What a kind Lord he is!" 

"Maybe he thinks we're scared of his little cloak and glowing armor!"

"Two minutes? That's about how long it'll take us to wipe his entire army off the map!" 

"Careful, lads," a spear-wielding soldier chimed in, "we'd better not surrender in three minutes. That'd just be rude!"

"Hey, Lord Atlas, maybe give us ten seconds to think about it, yeah?" another soldier cackled, throwing his arm around a comrade as they both howled with laughter.

Atlas allowed a faint smile to tug at the corner of his lips as he turned away and began walking back toward his team. 

Initially, he hadn't planned to kill every last one of them. Leaving a few survivors would have been acceptable, especially if he managed to take down their Lord first. But their complete lack of respect toward him and his troops struck a nerve. 

Granted, such behavior was common in the world of Lords. The more viciously they mocked and demeaned their opponents, the stronger their confidence grew—a psychological edge that often translated into battle readiness.

Atlas paused mid-stride, glancing back over his shoulder. For now, he would wait for the battle to begin. Yet he couldn't deny that, in one regard, Ragnor was right—confidence was born of experience.

And Atlas had millennia of experience behind him. If anyone here had the right to arrogance, it was him.

From his fortress, the deep, thunderous toll of a massive bell reverberated across the battlefield. DONG! DONG! DONG! 

Moments later, the blaring call of a rally horn shattered the air, its commanding tone unmistakable. BAWWWW! BAAWW-BAAAWW!

Though Atlas didn't look back, he could feel it—the elemental particles in the air swirling faster and wilder, reacting to the powerful auras being unleashed by every fighter present.

The countdown began.

10...

9...

...

2...

1.

The battle had begun!

Atlas instantly sensed the fire elemental particles surging with incredible speed. From the direction of the enemy forces, he could see clearly as Ragnor's troops became enveloped in shimmering elemental shields—energy barriers that acted like armor encasing their bodies.

Ragnor, the opposing Lord, leaped forward, slamming his massive greathammer into the ground. Instantly, the area around him darkened, as if scorched by an intense heat. The earth cracked and split beneath him, jagged fissures radiating outward. 

From those gaping crevices, a blazing red-orange light erupted, and soon magma began flowing through the fractures, spilling out and spreading in every direction.

The fiery fissures crept closer to Atlas's position, carving a path of destruction across the warzone.

Edrik, standing near Atlas, muttered under his breath, "His system allows him to tailor the environment to his advantage."

"And they chose a volcanic battlefield for this fight?" Atlas responded softly.

A faint smile curved his lips. "Isn't that the training ground for everyone here?"

He glanced back over his shoulder, and his smile deepened as he caught the eager, determined expressions of his troops.

"The battle begins now!" Ragnor bellowed, surging forward as he led the charge. 

Such a commander! His troops roared in unison, rushing behind him in perfect synchronization.

Atlas leapt into the warzone, summoning his Wavebreaker Spear. The weapon materialized in a surge of energy, wrapping him in a radiant aura of water infused with golden crackling lightning.

"Steel your resolve! There is no retreat! Face your enemies with all you have, and fight to the very end!" 

Atlas's voice thundered across the battlefield, filled with commanding power. His troops roared in unison, their chant shaking the air.

"VICTORY OR NOTHING!"

Raising his spear high into the air, lightning arced and crackled fiercely around it. Though he didn't need to make such a dramatic gesture to activate his abilities, Atlas knew the power of morale. He roared to ignite the fighting spirit of his army.

"OCEAN'S WRATH!"

A deafening screech echoed as Zefyros, his spirit beast, manifested before him, hovering midair. 

CREAAAKKK!

The ground shook as a massive surge of water rose in front of him, climbing high with overwhelming force. The waves were instantly wrapped in fierce bolts of lightning, sparking with energy.

CREAAAKKK!

Zefyros let out another mighty cry, merging seamlessly into the rising waves. The colossal tide charged forward, sweeping across the battlefield with unstoppable momentum, extinguishing the streams of magma in its path.

"SEA OF STORM!" Atlas roared once more.

Dozens of magic circles appeared in the skies above, glowing with watery blue light. From them, countless spears of water rained down in a coordinated assault, each infused with crackling lightning that added deadly precision to the onslaught. 

The battlefield transformed into a storm of water and electricity as Atlas sprinted behind the waves, pushing the assault with ferocity.

"VICTORY OR NOTHING!"