The shock that enveloped each of the men and women watching the scene was intense.
What Atticus was currently doing might seem simple to most, but it was only they who knew just how much time and insane amount of effort it took for them to be able to step on those steps with such ease like Atticus was currently doing.
They truly hadn’t been joking earlier when they said that it would take a year for Atticus to take a step. In all honesty, it took most of them months to figure it out, months!
Considering how young and inexperienced Atticus was supposed to be, it was only obvious that it was going to take him at least twice that long to achieve it.
And yet, reality had shattered right before their eyes. Why and how was he climbing so effortlessly!?
“Look! Looks like he’s a genius in the fire element just like the family head!” one of the onlookers said.
“I know he’s the family head’s son, but isn’t this too much? He did what took us months to do in a few seconds,” another added.
“Wait. But I heard he had multiple elements. Was that a lie?”
The last words made many of them ponder. The fact that the family head’s son of the Ravenstein family could use multiple elements was a subtly known fact among the Ravenstein family.
Only a select few in the Ravenstein family knew this fact and said select few would inform their descendants who also informed others, thus leading to the current situation.
But as each of them were reminded of Atticus’s multiple elements, they couldn’t help but dismiss it as false news. How could he possibly have multiple elements when his fire element mastery was supposedly that high?
The chatter was numerous, some already so absorbed in the talk that they forgot they were supposed to climb.
However, the individual who was the cause of all of this scene was completely absorbed in his task.
What Atticus had decided to do was simple and at the same time incredibly hard.
He had gotten this idea when he watched how Joana was walking earlier. It hadn’t been straightforward, but it had been the main source of inspiration.
As soon as Atticus put his foot on the step, a surge of heat had moved up from the step and upwards through his foot and to his body.
Atticus had thought incredibly hard about just how this was possible. Then he remembered Joana’s walk.
Each step she took sucked out a certain amount of heat away from where her foot touched, leaving a trail of foot indentations. It was incredible, but Atticus had been focused on another thing.
Each foot indentation had the same amount of heat sucked away from it, the same temperature changed. This small fact got Atticus thinking.
What if Joana were to step on a ground that already had the same temperature she had been turning the other indentations to? What would happen then?
It was simple, absolutely nothing. It was already the same temperature, there was no need for any temperature change.
Given this, what did Atticus do?
Simple, in this case, Joana was the flaming steps and Atticus was the ground. The steps were trying to forcibly change his temperature.
So what if Atticus could trick it into believing that he was the same temperature as it?
It would require precise and incredible timing and the ability to act without hesitation.
As Atticus came to this conclusion and immediately wanted to try out his assumption, he also encountered a problem: he couldn’t change the temperature of his body. Atticus didn’t know how.
However, what he did know how to do was change the temperature of fire. He could make it as hot as he wanted, to an extent of course.
A thin veil of fire enveloped Atticus’s feet, and as he stepped on each step, Atticus would immediately determine the temperature of the step and swiftly increase the temperature of the fire around his feet to match it.
This required an incredible level of focus, one that made Atticus tune out everything else except for what he was doing. However, he was able to do it!
Atticus’s pace might seem fast to the people watching, but to him, he was moving one step at a time, gradually and carefully.
The temperature of each step he took kept on increasing as he ascended, but thankfully, Atticus was able to easily match it.
It was as though the people who had been watching him below had snapped out of their reverie and began climbing, as Atticus could see some of them blaze past him at fast speed but not without throwing him an intense look first.
Of course, Atticus paid them no heed and continued his ascent.
The temperature of the area at the bottom of the stairs had been above a thousand degrees Celsius.
However, the first step had been one thousand five hundred degrees Celsius. At his current step, it had crossed two thousand.
It was scorching.
Atticus had long since started mitigating the heat of the fire around him, and yet it was still hot. But this heat was far from his limit.
Soon enough, the peak of the first summit reared its head as Atticus placed both his feet on the flat ground.
His gaze swept the area, taking note of everything.
The summit, as he had seen from below, was simply a flat ground, every single inch of it burning like embers set on fire, exactly like the stairs he had just climbed.
The ground was at a higher temperature than the last step he had taken, exactly two thousand two hundred degrees Celsius.
‘So that’s what Joana had been talking about, “you’ll understand when you begin your climb,”‘ Atticus thought.
This had been Joana’s response when Atticus asked why they just couldn’t rest on the summit.
Just standing on the summit alone required one to be completely focused and make sure the temperature of their feet matched that of the ground.
Atticus turned his gaze away from the ground, looking at the staggering number of individuals on the first summit.
Most of them had no fire lit on their backs and were in the process of creating something.
“Welcome to the first summit. You did well making it here in such a short time.”
Atticus’s head snapped to the side to see an aged man who had appeared a few meters away from him.
‘How did I miss that?’ Atticus’s gaze narrowed.
The aged man smiled as he noticed the cold glint in Atticus’s gaze. He was clad in an attire slightly different from Atticus’s and the others: a pure red robe with four lit flames on his back, indicating he was an instructor.
The aged man raised his hand. “Whoa, whoa, easy. I mean no harm.”
Atticus’s gaze widened slightly as he realized he had gotten too surprised and released a little killing intent. He calmed his nerves and bowed slightly as a show of respect.
The smile on the aged man’s face widened. ‘Definitely not what I was expecting,’ he thought.
Seeing as the tension had calmed down a bit, he continued, “I will go straight to the point. This is the first summit, and for you to advance to the next stage, you must pass a test. There are no time restrictions, which means you can take as long as you want.”
“Because of the high number of students, we’ve resorted to assessing in groups. Since you’re new, you’ll be joining my group. Follow me.”
Atticus walked away from the edge and followed the aged man across the summit.
Atticus witnessed the scene of multiple groups gathered together at different locations, each one with an instructor with four lit flames behind their backs standing in front of them.
His appearance made most of them stop what they were doing, their expressions turning to shock as they saw the handsome figure of Atticus on the first summit.
Most of them had immediately ascended the flaming stairs after greeting Magnus and didn’t have the luxury of witnessing Atticus’s ascent.
The last thing they had each expected was the boy who had just arrived a few minutes ago reaching the first summit.
Atticus didn’t care about the looks, and after a few seconds, he finally reached his designated group, swiftly taking a glance at his group mates.
They all showed the same shocked expressions on their faces. They knew just how long it took them to reach this level.
“Tsk, he probably got here by luck,” one of the group members whispered to his friend beside him, who didn’t bother responding. He knew better than to believe that nonsense. There was no luck when it came to ascending those stairs.
A 16-year-old boy had actually done it in a few minutes, the realization hit most like a wave.
An intense clap brought each of them out of their thoughts.
“Alright! This is our newest member, and I’m sure you all know him already. For the sake of fairness, I will explain the rules and demonstrate once again,” the aged man announced.
Atticus chose a spot at the back of the group and listened to the aged man speak.
“The rules aren’t complicated. All you have to do is recreate what I will demonstrate in a few seconds. It has to perfectly match it, down to the tiniest details, including the color and temperature.”
The aged man stretched out his hand in front of him.
“I would advise you to observe carefully as I am only allowed to demonstrate once a day.”
With a flick of his wrist, thin strips of fire began to materialize in the air. They swirled and twisted, moving with an almost sentient grace.
The strips of fire coalesced, their movements becoming more deliberate and precise. Slowly, the flames started to shape into a figure.
The heat radiated with an intensity that was palpable, yet the man stood unfazed.
As the fire strips continued their mesmerizing dance, they began to take on the form of a person.
Details emerged with stunning clarity: a tall figure with broad shoulders, a stern yet noble countenance, and eyes that seemed to burn with an inner fire.
The flames adjusted their hues, creating shadows and highlights that made the figure almost lifelike.
Within moments, the image formed. It was the perfect image of Magnus, down to the tiniest detail.