The descent had come at the exact moment Ordan was about to utter the name. To call it coincidence would be foolish.

His katana began to tremble violently again. Atticus reached for it, only to recoil the instant his fingers drew close.

'It burned me…?'

The heat radiating from the blade dwarfed even that of his burning will. Atticus clenched his jaw. If this was who he suspected, then he was finished.

Even the Great Verge had been powerless to stop him… it was far too early to face such a being.

The aura intensified, crushing down on him until even breathing became impossible.

'He's observing me…'

Atticus' heart pounded in his chest. This was him. The one responsible for everything he had endured. After all the hell he'd survived to reach this point, he still couldn't move an inch in his presence.

"You're not ready."

The words froze him in place, but the presence vanished before any thought could form.

The pressure lifted. With a deep frown, Atticus forced himself upright. His body still shook and his legs were unsteady, but his attention was fixed on something else entirely.

'Ready?'

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The memories he'd gained upon awakening Salvath's fragment surged through his mind, only deepening his frown.

It seemed the truth behind his rebirth was far more complicated than he'd believed.

As Anorah stirred in his arms, Atticus gently brushed her hair.

'It's okay.'

He was relieved the being had departed without causing further harm, yet he had no idea what to make of the encounter.

Turning inward once more, he assessed himself. His eyes and ears had ruptured from the pressure alone. While his hearing had already recovered, his vision was slower to return.

'What about Ozerra?'

He felt a heavy stare settle on him. As his vision returned, the massive frame of the Great Verge came into focus, looming before him.

"My superstar… how are you?"

'Of course.'

Only someone with the Great Verge's personality could act so casually after such humiliation.

"Who was that?" Atticus asked.

"…unless you wish for another reckoning, I suggest you erase that line of thought."

'He fears him.'

That level of hopelessness could only be found in those who had recognized and accepted their betters. Just what kind of being had warranted such fear…

"On another note." The Great Verge rose into the air, his many eyes glinting.

"You've done remarkably well during this ascension game, Atticus Ravenstein. I had no doubt you would end up on top. But I believe you made a rather tenuous error when selecting this battle. The rules state, last Marquis standing…"

He waved an arm, and Ozerra appeared before them. Blood streaked from her eyes and ears. The pressure had clearly taken its toll, though she was already in the process of healing.

"What…? Who the hell is there!? How dare you hide from me?"

"As far as I can tell, there are three Marquis remaining. Only one may be left. Oh, what will you do now, my superstar?"

An amused smile crossed the Great Verge's face as Atticus gently set Anorah down. In the next instant, Atticus vanished, reappearing before Ozerra. His leg blurred, sweeping her off her feet.

As she struck the ground, he pinned her there with his will, her scream tearing through the air.

"Haha! I hadn't expected you to be so cruel! You're my superstar for a reason!"

The Great Verge's laughter faltered as Atticus turned to face him.

"You'll not finish her off?"

"There's no need."

"No need…? Oh, but there is. You set your own rules. They must be followed."

"The last god standing wins," Atticus replied calmly. "I'm the last one standing."

The Great Verge fell silent. He studied Atticus for a moment, then his lips curled into a grin.

"Last one standing… clever. I didn't take you for someone this cunning, Atticus. You got me, haha."

Atticus offered no reply, choosing silence instead. Ordan had taught him an important lesson during the Marquis game, information was far more valuable than most realized.

The Great Verge's personality was well known across the Verge. He leapt at anything he found interesting. Many assumed the highlight of this final game had been Atticus versus the Marquis, but that wasn't why the Verge had accepted it.

It was because of the rules. Last Marquis standing. Had Atticus excluded Ozerra, the Verge would have ruled against it, inevitably forcing a situation where she would have had to die as well.

So Atticus had acted first, seizing control of the directive. He let the Great Verge believe he'd lost himself to rage and was prepared to kill everyone on the board, even his own ally.

The Great Verge laughed uncontrollably for a long moment before finally nodding.

"Alright! I suppose this brings the ascension games to an end. It's been quite the run. You've drawn a lot of attention, stirred up a fair bit of interest, and made more than a few enemies, likely many more before long. I do hope you're ready for what comes next. Though… I suspect you are."

The Great Verge smiled.

"It's been a pleasure watching you, my superstar. Just remember, I'll always be watching. Best of luck."

The Great Verge vanished the next moment.

'He's gone.'

Atticus retracted his aura, watching as Ozerra shot to her feet and began to scream.

"Who the hell are you!? Show yourself now! No matter where you run, I'll find you!"

Her will flared wildly as she lashed out at her surroundings.

Atticus cleared his throat, keeping his distance. He was quietly relieved her eyes and ears still hadn't recovered. There was nothing that could link the attack to him.

He slowly swept his gaze across the battlefield. Aside from Ozerra's screams, there was only endless silence. Dravek was dead. Ordan was dead. And the other Marquis of the Verge were dead as well.

'So… it's over…?'

His fists tightened. No, it wasn't over. This… this was only the beginning. Every major power in the Span, and possibly even the Crown, would have witnessed most of what had transpired.

He had made enemies of the Redflames, the Willguard, and with the fall of the Marquis, potentially every major and minor faction in the Middle Planes. The foes awaiting him would be countless.

It was only the beginning.

The endless desert began to recede, and the figures of his champions emerged before him.

"Bond!"

"Atticus…"

"My star actor…"

Atticus smiled. He was about to speak when an overwhelming weight crashed down on his will, plunging him into his mindscape.

This… this was familiar ground. He had gone on a killing spree and slaughtered dozens of Marquis. Now… he was consolidating their wills.

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