Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 1712

Chapter 1712: Game

After the talk with the pride queen, Atticus made his way back to his chambers, fully intending on getting some alone time.

After everything that had happened, everything he had found out, he felt it was important to clear his head. But that was merely a fool’s dream. The moment he entered his chamber, his eyes landed on the barely clothed Anorah laying seductively on the bed.

Atticus felt his pulse spike. A rush of heat surged through him, sending intense jolts across his body. Suddenly, every trace of lust he’d been holding at bay came surging out.

Anorah gave a slow, seductive smile and said;

"Hey Atticus."

Atticus was upon her the next moment.

Some time later, Atticus lay bare chested on the broken bed, Anorah curled against his chest. The room was an utter mess. Broken furniture scattered wildly about. Cracks stretched across the ground and walls.

It was unknown what the people of the castle had felt, but somehow, Atticus didn’t seem to care.

He stared blankly at the ceiling while Anorah traced soft fingers around the stump on his chest.

"Was it painful?"

Atticus’ mind was instantly dragged back to his time in the academy, when he first received the exosuit.

Back then, it had felt as though the entire world was collapsing around him, yet now it only felt like a distant memory.

But those memories about the exosuit also reminded him of the white haired Arbiter and... her sacrifice.

He suppressed the ache settling in his chest and simply said;

"Mm."

"How painful?"

Atticus paused for a moment before answering.

"...Like the world was ending."

"Mhm..."

Anorah continued tracing her fingers around the stump. Her touch felt... strangely soothing. Then after a moment, she broke the silence;

"...Anastasia is worried about you."

Atticus turned toward her, a silent question in his eyes.

"...She told you that?"

"She told me back in the First Crown."

"...What exactly did she say?"

"That you kill people too easily." Anorah’s fingers slowed slightly against his chest. "And that she’s scared you’ll eventually become someone who kills people mindlessly."

"...I see."

Atticus stared at her for a moment before turning back toward the ceiling. He had already determined as much from the looks Anastasia kept giving him. However...

’It’s better this way.’

This was Atticus’ firm belief. Holding himself back from killing people was limiting. A major waste of time. And eventually, it would come back to bite him.

Of course, there was the morality of it all. Most of the people he’d killed had done nothing to him. Innocent people who were simply trying to live their lives, trying to protect what was dear to them. Yet Atticus did not care.

Just like his manifestation.

He was a shield to his loved ones. A blade to the rest of the world. A blade was unfeeling. A blade did not care when it severed heads. When it became drenched in pools of blood.

He was a blade. That was all.

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