Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Atlas’ POV

*****

9:45am, Crimson Expanse.

He drew in a heavy breath, eyes fixed on the shimmering portal before them. His partner— Inari Kuroda—was fortunately not the type to chase small talk.

She barely gave him a smile, snapping her neck and fingers like they were about to charge into war.

Because they were.

"The Witch trials this year will focus on a core principle of witchcraft," Dean Thorne was the one who spoke this time, voice booming through the field without a microphone. "Magic is not all about power. It’s also about balance. Precision. And the ability to adapt with your spells and knowledge."

Subconsciously, Atlas glanced at their opponents.

White Flame’s witches were two girls, both of whom seemed to be in their early twenties. One had short, chestnut hair and green eyes, while the other had long, dyed purple hair and eyes sharp like twin stars.

The girls noticed his glance and spun their necks to him simultaneously—neither of them were impressed.

Atlas shook his head, right hand rubbing his sapphire necklace in a silent prayer to his ancestors.

"For the trials, the Witches will be sent into a pocket dimension designed not to fight beasts or each other... But to test stability," Thorne paused for a breath. "I like to call it the Astral Crucible. In this vast pocket space, each team will be placed on a levitating platform where the terrain will throw a myriad of obstacles."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd but he continued. "Your ability and time spent to move past these obstacles without losing balance will determine how many points you acquire. That’s it..."

As if on cue, the portal pulsed with a bright white light, forcing Atlas to squint.

No one needed to tell any of them what to do next. Amidst cheers, whistles and thunderous clapping, Atlas moved first. The others followed instantly, jumping past the portal as space-time shifted them past its folds.

"As above, so below," Dean Thorne echoed behind them. "Let the balance be kept. Good luck, witches."

.

.

After seconds of being sucked through a treacherous void, Atlas finally landed on his feet with a grunt on a hard surface. He blinked, raising his head, eyes scanning the new location.

What welcomed his vision was absolutely breathtaking.

Around him was a vast expanse of darkness with no end or beginning in sight. Above him, weirdly shaped but colourful constellations flickered with stars.

The ground he stood on was a wide, floating disk made of almost metallic obsidian—hundreds of meters across, vast enough to rival a football field. Runes were carved into its surface, each glowing faintly beneath his feet.

Beside him, Inari stood, fingers already spread in preparation for whatever the dimension had to throw at them first.

But where were White Flame’s witches?

Frowning, Atlas’s instincts led him to turn his head. And there they were—like ants from this distance, on a separate floating disk.

"I fail to understand why the Dean calls this a crucible," Inari mumbled, expression studying. "But anyway, he said it’s meant to test stability and balance. Perhaps—"

She didn’t get the chance to finish.

Jagged black earth spikes sprouted ten meters ahead of them, converging in a split second to form a massive wall. The wall moved like a tsunami, immediately heading toward them.

Atlas’s eyes widened, pulse spiking with adrenaline and magic.

"Ignis!" He flung his right arm forward, summoning a golden fireball.

BOOM!

The fireball exploded upon hitting the wall, sending dust, rock shards and smoke flying. Inari quickly created an orange force bubble, shielding them.

Unfortunately, that was merely the beginning.

A gust of wind blew through the dark expanse, shifting the dust and smoke until the vicinity was clear again. And then it wasn’t.

Rock shards manifested all around the force bubble, each seeming sharp enough to cut through steel.

"Gods above." Chills ran down Atlas’ spine.

The shards fell, hitting Inari’s force bubble from every angle. The construct withheld, ripples forming across its orange surface.

Inari cursed. "I can’t hold it for long. We need a portal—"

Atlas was already on it, flicking his wrist. Golden light engulfed the two of them, space-time caving in to form a portal that immediately sucked them away from there.

They were dropped close to the edge of the disk, gazes locked on the never-ending barrage of rock shards.

Gritting his teeth, Atlas whipped his head to their opponents.

White Flame’s witches were in a tough spot of their own. Water tendrils rose from the ground around them, lunging and coiling with enough force to shatter stone.

Both girls, however, were quick, evading seamlessly before using a joint rune formation to freeze the tentacles. Once the ice sculptures shattered though, the shards levitated, chasing after them in a way that mirrored Atlas’ current situation.

"Earth and water." He muttered, bringing his gaze back to the storm of rock shards. They swarmed, spinning like a living tornado ready to attack them again. "Elements. First, it formed a wall. We destroyed that and it instantly turned into this."

Adaptation.

"The ability to adapt with your spells and knowledge." The Dean’s words echoed in his mind as he steadied his footing, stepping away from the disk’s edge.

Wiggling his fingers, a runic circle emerged from the ground, covering the entire disk. He clenched his fists, eyes glowing with a fierce light. "One way to stop a storm..."

Suddenly, thunder rumbled through the air, followed by lightning flashes. They only increased as Inari gawked at Atlas curiously, hands readying a spell just in case.

Unnecessary.

"... Is by overwhelming it with a more powerful and larger one." He finished his statement, a small smile curving his lips.

Golden lightning bolts appeared in the midst of the rock shards. That was followed by a powerful wind gale, spinning around the rocks until a massive tornado was formed.

In a matter of seconds, the lightning bolts and tornado combo formed a storm that completely vaporised the swarm of rocks.

A simple clap from Atlas was all it took to make his storm disappear without a trace, the runic circle fading away as well.

"That may have taken too much time," he let out a breath, eyes wandering to the opponents. They’d already obliterated the ice shards, facing a new obstacle. "We can only get more points if we beat each obstacle in a faster time than the others."

Inari blinked, still entranced by his display just now. "Right." She nodded. "Something tells me the first to beat all obstacles will get automatically taken back."

Then they’d better be the winners.

Spreading out his arms, Atlas braced himself for whatever was coming next.

One thing he NEVER condones with himself is losing.

At least, not with Celeste back in the Crimson Expanse watching. Spirits forbid he fails with that at the back of his mind—

Without warning, the next task revealed itself.

Ghostly howls and screams echoed in a soul-chilling cacophony around them. Atlas froze, recognising one of the voices behind the unnerving sounds.

When he did—his focus nearly faltered.

It... It can’t be...

Yet the face behind the voice appeared in front of him, almost making him stumble back. "P–Papa?"

For the first time since the trial began, Atlas lost his balance.