My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 482: The Aurora Clan base

The atmosphere in the room shifted abruptly, sensed by everyone present without any need to scan their surroundings.

Harold's face grew noticeably grim, his previously steady composure starting to fracture faintly beneath the intensifying pressure. His eyes narrowed sharply, and though silent, it was evident he no longer regarded Ethan as a mere nobody.

Conversely, Dominic's reaction was the complete opposite. His grin expanded broadly, evident delight shining in his features, as if Ethan's declaration had simply amplified the excitement rather than sparking trouble.

Before they could utter a word, Ethan lifted his hand just a touch, signaling clearly that his words weren't over. Though straightforward, the motion commanded enough presence to halt both men.

"However," Ethan declared with composed firmness, "I am not pledging myself to the Aurora Clan at this time."

Silence deepened even further in the room.

"I will go with Sir Dominic," he pressed on without pause, voice clear and resolute, "to witness firsthand and comprehend what the clan truly delivers."

Directly meeting Dominic's eyes as he spoke, Ethan's stare remained steadfast and unwavering.

"Should your clan match my standards, I will join. If not, I will depart."

Several seconds ticked by without a sound.

Dominic examined him intently, yet his expression held steady. The smile remained fixed, as though he'd foreseen precisely this turn.

"That is a bold stance," Dominic remarked after a beat, amusement threading his tone. "You speak to a level seven as equals."

Ethan held his gaze firm.

"I will not offer loyalty blindly," he countered. "If that's unacceptable, I'm prepared to leave this city and thrive alone in the forest."

His tone stayed even, intent unmistakable.

Silence blanketed the room once more, heavier this time. No mere strain now—it brimmed with scrutiny.

Harold fixed his gaze on Ethan, analyzing every detail. Clearly rethinking his initial assessment, Ethan now stood apart from ordinary outsiders in his view.

Dominic, though, erupted in laughter.

The hearty peal boomed through the chamber, shattering the strain instantly.

"Very well," he announced as mirth faded. "You'll accompany me, inspect all you wish, and pose any questions."

He pivoted toward the exit, matter seemingly sealed.

"Should you choose to leave afterward, I won't block you."

Pausing shortly, he glanced back at Ethan.

"But I doubt you'll choose that path."

Ethan offered no rebuttal, simply trailing after.

As he passed Harold's seat, the envoy murmured lowly, words meant only for Ethan's ears.

"You are making a mistake."

Ethan didn't falter.

"We will see," he responded evenly.

Soon after, the door sealed behind them, leaving utter quiet.

Harold lingered in his chair, eyes locked on their vacated spot, mind visibly churning.

At length, his finger rapped the table once, the crisp snap reverberating.

Then he rose.

In the blink of an eye, silver radiance flared, his form vanishing.

The hallway beyond stretched broad and forsaken.

Dominic eased his pace a fraction, glancing at Ethan.

"Let us go," he instructed.

Ethan inclined his head.

From his pocket, Dominic drew a compact item—a pristine white orb, sleek and emitting a soft glow, its skin seeming to pulse faintly.

Clutching it, he infused it with power.

Without delay, space ahead warped. Ripples bloomed circularly, coalescing into a portal moments later. Its depths appeared eerie, neither shadowed nor transparent.

"Our ancestor established the clan base in a pocket dimension," Dominic clarified. "This orb alone permits entry."

Ethan studied the gateway briefly—no frame or brace visible, yet it radiated solidity.

Dominic strode in boldly.

Ethan stepped through immediately after.

Fleetingly, disorientation gripped him, space twisting; then equilibrium returned.

Vision steadying, he stood amid alien surroundings.

A colossal fortress towered before him, robustly constructed with imposing walls blending dominance and antiquity. Far from ruined, it exuded upkeep and vitality.

Its environs sprawled vast and exposed.

Before the stronghold, cultivators drilled rigorously—some clashing in flawless, regimented maneuvers; others mastering energy flows, aura subtly stirring the breeze.

Order reigned supreme.

Ethan took in the spectacle silently.

Moments passed before several trainees spotted them.

Their actions decelerated, focus snapping to Ethan and Dominic.

"Looks like there is a new face," one called out. "Who is he, Dominic?"

Dominic responded promptly.

"He is an outsider with extraordinary potential. I have recruited him."

Murmurs rippled instantly.

"Extraordinary potential?" another challenged.

The voice's owner advanced—humanoid frame topped by a canine skull, features mingling intrigue and skepticism.

"Do you think he can earn the right to ascend to the first floor?" the dog-headed man queried.

Dominic paused thoughtfully before replying.

"I do not know," he admitted. "But we will check his potential first. It is possible that his potential is above gold level."

The dog-headed man chuckled derisively.

"You are dreaming," he taunted. "Hundreds of outsiders come to Elysium all the time, and not even one percent reach that level."

After a beat, he added,

"But we can test him. Maybe he is different."

Dominic brushed aside the scoff, turning to Ethan instead.

Ethan, having eavesdropped keenly, broke his silence.

"What exactly is going on?" he inquired.

Dominic elucidated steadily.

"When an outsider appears, we recruit them. After that, we measure their potential value. That value determines their rank in the clan."

A subtle nod from Ethan, followed by,

"What does potential value actually mean?"

Dominic's demeanor grew graver.

"Potential value holds vital sway over advancement," he explained. "Every ten levels brings a bottleneck—not trivial hurdles, but formidable walls."

With a wave toward the drilling group,

"The higher your potential, the fewer evolution points required to shatter those barriers. Low potential turns progress into torment."

Steadily, he went on.

"These breakthroughs shape destinies. Many languish eons attempting them—billions of years from level ten to eleven, or twenty to twenty-one in extremes."

Ethan absorbed every word, grasping its weight.

Far beyond a mere figure, potential value charted growth's ceiling and smoothness.

For the first time, true intrigue sparked within him toward his own.

Meeting Dominic's eyes,

"I assume we can test it now," he stated.

A faint smile curved Dominic's lips.

"Yes," he confirmed. "We can."

Ethan's attention honed razor-sharp.

His true potential awaited revelation.