Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 1666

Chapter 1666: Fiend!

A bloodied Whisker was sprawled right before him, staring up at him with a grin.

"You look terrible," Whisker said.

"You look worse."

Whisker let out a low chuckle.

"Really? Is it the blood? Or the whole ’gore everywhere’ aesthetic? It’s in fashion these days. Besides... I’m too handsome to look bad."

Atticus gave the grinning man a flat look. Large patches of his body were missing, as though they had unraveled. Bluish blood seeped steadily from the torn flesh, enough to gather into a shallow pool beneath him.

The man had to be in excruciating pain, yet... he was grinning.

"...you’re crazy."

"Haha... I know."

Whisker chuckled again, then after a moment, his gaze sharpened slightly as he looked at Atticus.

"So? Talk to me. Do I need to worry about some oldie hijacking my star actor?"

Something heavy slammed into Atticus’ mind. He frowned faintly. From a brief scan, he had no doubt it was Solvath, especially with the constant booming voice echoing through his mind.

"YOU WILL SERVE!"

"YOU WILL SERVE!"

"YOU WILL SERV—!"

Atticus exerted pressure, and in an instant, the voice cut off.

’Hmm...’

"...yeah, we’re good."

"Whew..." Whisker sank further against the ground, releasing a slow breath. The tension in his eyes seemed to ease.

"I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, my star actor... you’re a walking reality show."

Atticus smiled faintly, but he said nothing. Instead, his gaze swept over the surroundings. Azeron, Thora, and Thomas lay sprawled several meters away, unmoving.

A violent purple beam that pierced the heavens surged from him, pressing down on the world like a weight.

Even so, Atticus didn’t move to act. He turned inward instead, focusing on everything he was currently feeling.

’Numb.’

To Solvath’s raging emotions, to the relentless assault on his mind, Atticus felt no real threat.

It was as though the overwhelming pressure of the primordial star had been dulled, reduced to nothing more than a faint, persistent itch.

Aside from that... the world felt different. Clearer. What he once couldn’t perceive, he now sensed with ease.

The countless energies woven through the air, the countless wills layered across existence. It felt as though he had become... one with it all.

As though he existed in quiet harmony with the world.

A moment later, Atticus exhaled.

’Later.’

He would examine everything in detail later. First...

With a thought, he seized control of the pillar, snuffing it out as it dispersed into the air.

Then he raised his palm.

Whoosh.

A moment later, eight orbs formed above it. Four glowed with a greenish hue, while the other four shimmered in blue.

With a subtle shift of intent, each pair drifted toward one another and fused, harmonizing into a set of darkened orbs.

Atticus watched the fusion for a brief moment, then gave a small nod.

The next instant, the orbs shot towards Whisker, Thora, Azeron, and Thomas, before enveloping them in dark cocoons.

Barely a second passed before the cocoons burst into a brilliant light.

As the glow faded, Atticus’ gaze moved across them. Their wounds had vanished entirely, their bodies restored to a near flawless state.

As Whisker examined himself, flexing slightly, he smiled, then lifted his gaze and gave Atticus a curious look.

Ahead, the others began to stir.

"Urg... W-what... what is going on?" Thora groaned, shaking her head as she tried to clear the haze clouding her mind.

The moment her gaze landed on Atticus, her eyes widened.

"You’re... you’re not... dead?"

Atticus raised an eyebrow.

"...I was never dead."

"But—we thought—with Solvat—!" Her words froze as her expression shifted. She suddenly pushed herself up, scanning the surroundings in alarm. "Solvath! Where is he?"

"I defeated him."

"...what?"

Thora froze, staring at Atticus in disbelief. She had felt it, the sheer weight of Solvath’s aura, the suffocating pressure of it. How could anyone possibly stand against that?

"Wait..." Her eyes narrowed. "How do we know you’re really Atticus? What if you’re Solvath, just... pretending to be him?"

"If I were Solvath... you’d be dead."

"..."

Thora held his gaze for several seconds, then swallowed.

"...fair enough."

Azeron, who had been silent the entire time, narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied Atticus.

"...you’ve changed."

He could feel it clearly, a primal pressure radiating from the boy. It was as though Atticus stood above him, not as an equal, but as something greater.

’He’s gotten even stronger.’

Azeron suppressed the grin threatening to form, shaking his head.

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