Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 1595

Chapter 1595: Few Months

’The Spirit King is dangerous.’

That much was undeniable. The man’s schemes had already erased an entire lineage and had nearly consumed Eldoralth itself, and while Atticus had allowed this situation to unfold for Ozeroth’s sake, it was not something he intended to forget or overlook. He wasn’t going to let his guard down.

Soon, the golden light surrounding them dimmed, and Ozeroth finally pulled back from the spirit god before turning toward the others.

"It’s done."

At once, all eyes shifted back to the spirit god, each of them remaining tense and on high alert.

’Hmm...’

Atticus will wrapped around the man instantly. Though it wasn’t hot or boiling, he had another purpose in mind for it.

’This way... he won’t be able to watch us.’

Moments later, the spirit god’s eyes flicker open, then widened sharply the instant he took in his surroundings.

"Wh—what is this!?"

He lurched to his feet, instinctively reaching for his blade, only to find an empty sheath.

"Y-you! What have you done to me!? Where is my army!?"

His gaze darted around wildly, but no matter where he looked, there was only a vast, endless wasteland stretching in every direction.

"I will—"

"You were brainwashed."

At Ozeroth’s words, the spirit god froze. He furrowed his brows, then his eyes widened as though he realizated something, pointing sharply at them.

"It’s you! Did you brainwash me?"

"Ah... for the love of... put this man out of his misery, please."

Whisker muttered with a weary sigh.

"I did not brainwash you. I freed you from one." Ozeroth calmly said.

"You... what...?"

"The Spirit King. He was the one who brainwashed you."

"My king!"

The god’s eyes shot upward, then he suddenly stiffened, squinting as his expression turned confused.

"M-my King? Who is that...?"

Atticus exchanged a confused glance with Ozeroth as the spirit god began shaking his head, as though trying to clear something lodged deep within his mind.

"Spirit King..."

The man’s legs gave out a moment later, and he collapsed where he stood.

Atticus and Whisker both turned to Ozeroth, who stared down at the fallen god with a deep frown.

"What just happened?"

...

Several minutes later, they finally got an answer when the spirit god woke once more.

Atticus still didn’t take any chances. His will remained firmly wrapped around the man, preventing any possibility of the Spirit King observing them as they resumed their questioning.

"I see..."

The spirit god leaned back against a raised platform while they stood around him.

Ozeroth had just finished explaining everything, the nature of the spirit world, the Spirit King, and what had been done to him, and yet, surprisingly, the man took it all in calmly.

"You really can’t remember anything?"

Ozeroth asked after a moment.

"N-no..." The spirit god clutched his head. "T-the last thing I remember is kneeling before the king. Everything after that is... blurry. How did I get here? Where is... here?"

A brief, silent glance passed between them.

With a thought, Atticus subtly manipulated the surrounding molecules, ensuring the spirit god could no longer hear them as he turned his attention back to Ozeroth.

"What’s happening? Did the brainwashing affect his memories too?"

Whisker and Ozerra’s gazes were already fixed on him, waiting for an answer.

Ozerra hesitated, narrowing her eyes at him, before letting out an irritated sigh and nodding. Moments later, she departed as well, and they watched as her golden streak disappeared beyond the horizon.

"I don’t like this,"

Atticus said bluntly.

"I know."

"The Spirit King is too dangerous."

"I know."

"This is definitely a trap."

"...I know."

Atticus frowned and met Ozeroth’s gaze.

"But you still want to do this?"

"I do."

’Hmm.’

Ozeroth’s eyes were clear and steady, completely at peace with his decision. Atticus exhaled. He didn’t agree, but there was no changing it now.

"Alright then. I have your back."

...

Several months passed swiftly after that.

’Here... again.’

Atticus let out a quiet sigh as he sat at a long table, overlooking a vast space filled with people dancing, singing, and casually conversing.

’Why do they have to do this every time?’

They had turned the night before the veil dropped into a celebration. He hadn’t minded the first time, but by now it had become tradition, and attending monthly parties had drained what little social energy he had left for the next few centuries.

’I have to find a way to stop this.’