Chapter 386: Started First

Atlas and the Oni-race man could be seen standing opposite each other in a completely new location. They were now inside an enormous circular arena, surrounded by towering walls made of a smooth, pale stone-like material.

Several massive pillars stood at equal intervals around the outer boundary, each engraved with intricate patterns that faintly shimmered with energy. Above them stretched a vast transparent dome, through which the endless expanse of the Conclave’s dimension could be seen.

The arena itself was constructed from enormous interlocking slabs, forming a perfectly even battlefield without any visible cracks or imperfections. A faint golden barrier surrounded the entire area, separating the combatants from the spectators while allowing everyone to observe the duel without obstruction.

Beyond it, multiple rows of elevated seating extended around the arena, already occupied by Conclave members who had followed the two of them here. Some watched with curiosity, others with amusement, while a few seemed genuinely interested in seeing how the confrontation would unfold.

The atmosphere was considerably different from the library they had just left. Here, disputes were settled through strength, and the rules of the Conclave determined how far either participant could go.

Atlas and the Oni-race man remained silent as they looked toward the figure floating at the centre of the arena. "You both consent to the removal of the ’No-Killing’ rule, correct?" the figure asked, his eyes completely concealed beneath a black blindfold.

Atlas nodded with his usual indifferent expression, while the Oni-race man narrowed his eyes before giving his own confirmation. The floating figure nodded as though he could clearly sense their agreement despite being unable to see.

He then raised his right hand and opened his palm, causing a small scroll to materialize above it in a soft glow. With the scroll in hand, he began writing down the names of the two participants: Atlas and the Oni-race man, Ragathor Vorn.

Atlas paid little attention to the names being recorded. His interest was directed toward the figure floating at the centre of the arena, whom he could identify as a member of the Seraphic Kin based on the knowledge he had gained from reading the books.

They possessed an almost human appearance, though their most distinctive feature was the pair of magnificent, feathered wings made of what appeared to be pure energy. The figure’s eyes carried a natural brilliance, while his overall presence gave off an unusually refined aura. Despite their elegant appearance, the Seraphic Kin were known for their exceptional physical abilities and keen senses.

Just as Atlas wondered what rank the man might hold, the scroll vanished from his hand. The Seraphic Kin then spoke once again, his heavy voice carrying throughout the arena. "Now that the ’No-Killing’ rule has been removed from this duel, we shall begin the battle."

His words echoed across the enormous arena, capturing everyone’s attention in an instant. He then began ascending higher and higher until he was floating just beneath the massive transparent dome.

Atlas and Ragathor looked at each other with serious expressions. Neither said a word as they stood facing one another, waiting for the signal. Ragathor’s expression, however, was far from calm. His eyes remained fixed on Atlas, and the muscles in his arms had already begun to tense.

He had not forgotten the humiliation he had suffered in the library, nor had he forgotten that Atlas was the one who had challenged the very dignity of the Oni race. In his mind, this duel was no longer simply about winning.

He wanted to make the human regret ever provoking him.

A moment later, they heard a sharp snap from above. The instant the sound reached their ears, Ragathor vanished as though he had been waiting for that very moment. His body didn’t merely blur forward; it disappeared entirely before reappearing directly in front of the motionless Atlas.

The speed of his movement was so extraordinary that several spectators barely managed to follow his figure. A few even leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the attack before it landed.

Ragathor’s fist was already in motion. The tremendous force behind his punch tore through the surrounding space as it came crashing directly toward Atlas’s face. Yet Atlas remained completely silent.

He didn’t move a single inch, neither dodging nor attempting to block the incoming attack, as though his mind were occupied with something entirely different. "You dared to play with me, Human! We Oni warriors would never allow a mere human to damage our dignity! This is your end!"

Ragathor roared as his fist finally struck Atlas’s cheek.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

An enormous shockwave erupted from the point of contact, spreading throughout the arena. The platform beneath them shook violently, as though it might shatter at any moment, yet it remained intact. After all, it had been constructed from the strongest material found in the entire Galaxy.

The golden barrier surrounding the battlefield rippled under the pressure, its surface briefly distorting before stabilizing once again. Several spectators instinctively raised their hands to shield themselves from the sudden burst of force, while others watched without blinking.

Ragathor grinned as he felt the impact of his punch, convinced that the human standing before him had been crushed by that single strike. The force he had unleashed was enough to severely injure opponents of comparable rank, and he had put considerable strength behind that blow.

Even if Atlas had attempted to defend himself, Ragathor believed that the difference in their physical strength would have made the result inevitable. He slowly began to withdraw his fist, already imagining the sight of his opponent collapsing before him.

...Or at least, that was what he believed.

"Is that all?... Aren’t you too weak?"

Atlas’s voice emerged from behind the cloud of dust in front of Ragathor. The grin on the Oni’s face disappeared instantly, replaced by an expression of utter disbelief. He could still feel his fist pressed against something, but the sensation was nothing like striking a human face.

It was as though an invisible wall had appeared between them at the very last moment, preventing his attack from reaching its intended target. Before he could properly understand what had happened, he felt his fist begin to twist ever so slowly.

Ragathor’s eyes widened. He immediately tried to pull his arm back, but the movement stopped almost as soon as it began. His instincts warned him that something was terribly wrong, and he attempted to retreat by forcing his body backward.

However, no matter how much strength he applied, his position remained unchanged. It wasn’t that his muscles had suddenly weakened; something was preventing him from moving altogether.

’Huh?’

A question formed in his mind as Atlas’s voice reached him once again. "You want to get away now?" The dust finally began to clear, revealing Atlas standing exactly where he had been before.

His expression hadn’t changed in the slightest, and there wasn’t even a single injury on his cheek. The Oni’s fist remained suspended just in front of him, separated from his face by a small spatial barrier positioned barely a centimetre away from the point of impact.

The spectators who had witnessed the exchange began reacting to what they had just seen. Some narrowed their eyes, trying to examine the tiny barrier that had stopped Ragathor’s punch, while others looked between the two combatants in disbelief.

They had clearly seen Ragathor’s attack connect, yet Atlas appeared completely unharmed. Even more concerning was the fact that the Oni warrior, who had moved with such overwhelming speed moments ago, was now unable to withdraw his own arm.

Before Ragathor could comprehend how Atlas had stopped his attack so effortlessly, the latter spoke once again. "Were you not the one who started this first?" Those cold words sent a chill down Ragathor’s spine. His pupils contracted as he finally noticed the thin, circular spatial structure surrounding his body, holding him firmly in place.

Ragathor struggled once again, this time pouring even more strength into his body. The muscles across his shoulders and arms bulged as he tried to break free, and the energy surrounding his body began to surge violently.

Yet the thin structure around him remained perfectly stable. It didn’t tremble, crack, or show even the slightest indication that it was being affected by his attempts.

His expression changed completely as he finally understood his situation. Not only was he unable to move a single finger, but he also couldn’t even release his energy, or any abilities at all.

And to make it worse...Atlas hadn’t even taken a single step.