Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 1045

Self-detonation.

In Eldoralth, this simply meant the irreversible collapse of one’s mana core, the singular nucleus that was the source of one’s power.

A mana core, much like a star, was a wellspring of mana, compressed into a stable state through years of refinement and tempering.

But when that stability was forcibly ruptured, either by will or overwhelming pressure, it unraveled all restraints, unleashing every particle of stored energy in a cataclysmic release.

For a Grandmaster, this was nothing but devastation.

Their mana core had enough power to level cities, melt armies, and turn the battlefield into ruin.

But a Paragon was something else entirely.

Paragons were not just powerhouses, they were living conduits of world essence, beings whose mana cores had transcended simple containment. A Paragon’s core was no longer an isolated vessel, it was tethered to the fabric of the world.

When a Paragon detonated, it wasn’t destruction, it was calamity.

And now, a calamity ensued.

Xal’zereth ignited in a shockwave of unbearable force that tore outward, its light swallowing everything.

A supernova of volatile mana expanded in every direction, faster than sound, faster than thought.

The dimensional world of the military camp began to crumble, chunks of space folding inward, disintegrating as pressure and chaos collided.

Islands cracked. Buildings splintered. Runes failed. Mana circuits burned out as the very laws of existence screamed in protest.

And as this occurred, Zenon’s heart stopped.

Even if it was only for a moment… it stopped.

His expression changed violently. His mind surged beyond anything it had ever processed before.

A thousand thoughts per breath. One thought above all screamed into his mind.

’The recruits.’

His eyes snapped back to where the Apexes, the sergeants, the millions of recruits across the islands, were still and frozen, their expressions filled with disbelief.

They were going to die.

Not from enemy blades. Not from war.

But from a god detonating his body.

He had to act. Now.

His aura erupted like a dam breaking, crashing across the entire military sector in a heartbeat.

He spread it wide, encompassing the Apexes and recruits, whose expressions had turned to pure dread.

And then, he braced for impact, expecting the fiery doom to reach them. But instead, what he got…

Was a voice that did not belong to the explosion.

Silent, and yet it slipped through the blast like wind through flame.

"I am fire, water, earth, and air."

Zenon’s eyes shot upward toward the skies, and there, he caught sight of the monster child… just before he dispersed.

But while most minds were still trying to grasp what had just happened, one mind refused to rest.

Plans upon plans. Scenarios upon scenarios. Calculations layered beneath calculations.

’My dimensional abilities still aren’t responding.’

Carius’s thoughts raced. He remained trapped within the elemental cocoon Atticus had made, bound so tightly he couldn’t move a single limb, not even twitch a finger.

His powers weren’t responding. But his mind remained sharp. Calculating.

’The battle’s coming to an end… He’s going to come for me.’

The mere fact that the battle had dragged on this long told him everything he needed to know. As impossible as it seemed, the Zorvan was probably losing. Which meant Atticus would soon turn his attention toward him.

Carius strained against the binding force, trying, urging his body to respond. His gaze flicked downward, toward the artifact strapped to his waist. But he couldn’t reach it. He couldn’t move no matter how much he tried.

However, as the seconds passed, his eyes sharpened, glinting with sudden intensity.

’I’m starting to feel it…’

Excitement bled into his thoughts. He didn’t know what was happening outside, but something had changed. Atticus’s grip on him had faltered, even if just slightly. He still couldn’t move a muscle, but…

He could feel it.

He could move his mana.

And for Carius… that was all he needed.

His eyes gleamed, and if he could move his lips, a slow, dangerous smile would have curled its way onto his face.