Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 672

Chapter 672 Harmony

Atticus walked through the gates of the Fire Sanctum, trailing behind Dekai, who was wearing a small smile.

'This place hasn't changed at all,' Atticus thought as he took in his surroundings. Everything was just as he remembered. However, unlike his last visit, there was no grand welcome. The students strolled about, going about their business—until they spotted Atticus walking across the sanctum. The uproar was immense.

"Isn't that…?"

"It's him! What's he doing here?"

Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire as soon as he was recognized. Though it had taken a few days after he left, there was now no one in the sanctum who didn't know who Atticus was or what he had accomplished.

He hadn't just broken the sanctum's records; he had shattered them. Every student there had been shocked when they heard about his feats.

"I've heard from Master Magnus already. You plan to form your domain?" Dekai asked as they walked.

Atticus nodded. He had thought about this extensively. Among all his elements, the space element was the only one he had yet to focus on.

While he knew it would be an invaluable addition to his abilities, he ultimately decided to put it on hold.

The space element was important, but a domain was far more significant.

Considering everything he had learned about the elements, he was confident that advancing his space element wouldn't be as difficult once he found a suitable place to train—a place brimming with space molecules.

'Unfortunately, our family doesn't have a sanctum for space,' Atticus thought. He had already spoken to Magnus about this and had gotten an answer. The man who built the space elemental room at the academy had been Oberon Enigmalnk.

'After this, if I still have time, I'll focus on the space element,' he resolved.

"And you chose fire as your first?" Dekai asked, his voice unusually light, as if he needed to hear Atticus confirm it directly.

"Yes. Fire is currently my strongest element. If anything, I should be able to succeed in forming its domain," Atticus replied.

Dekai turned away without another word, the sound of his walking stick echoing with each step, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Their conversation wasn't muted, and since it took place among master-ranked individuals, everyone heard it.

A 16-year-old was about to attempt the formation of a domain. The news spread like wildfire even before Atticus had made it to the burning stairs of the summits.

The crowd gathering around them grew larger, with many trying to confirm if he was really there.

Soon enough, they reached the burning stairs.

"The rules of the sanctum are absolute. You still have to climb and reach the fifth summit by yourself," Dekai reminded him.

Atticus nodded and stepped forward, his focus sharp. The last time he'd done this was three months ago, back when he had been a complete novice in the art. Now, he was far from being a novice.

Atticus placed his right foot on the first burning step and then vanished. A trail of fire streaked upwards through the stairs at an incredible speed.

Atticus reached the first summit in a second, bursting upwards and landing silently. The gazes of everyone on the first summit turned towards him, and a smile appeared on the face of the aged instructor who had attended to Atticus during his first visit.

The groups were still separated as they had been before, though it seemed more people had joined the summit since he had left.

Atticus approached the group he had been with before.

"You've grown stronger…" the aged instructor remarked, and Atticus simply smiled and nodded.

"Well, you know the drill," the instructor said.

Atticus wasted no time. As soon as the instructor spoke, his thoughts shifted to the fire molecules around him. The air combusted before swirling and molding into the perfect figure of Magnus, majestic in its entirety.

"Amazing work," the aged man commented, impressed by how effortlessly Atticus had executed the task.

The new arrivals who had just joined the summit couldn't help but wonder who this teenager was and what was happening.

After nodding to the instructor, Atticus turned and made his way to the second summit. He ascended the stairs with the same blazing speed, and upon reaching the second summit, he received a warmer welcome than at the previous summit.

These were the people who had heard Atticus's noble speech, and it was still fresh in their minds.

His hands rested on his knees, fingers lightly tapping in a slow, rhythmic pattern, trying to sync with the flow of the fire molecules.

The tapping wasn't random; it matched the pulse he felt in the fire, the rhythm at which the molecules resonated. Every tap was an attempt to communicate and connect—to trick the fire into believing he was one of them.

Time passed, though Atticus wasn't sure how much. He had lost track of time entirely. It could have been minutes, hours, or days; the fire didn't care about time.

His breathing remained steady, his chest rising and falling in sync with the flicker of the flames. His body, though still and composed, was covered in a sheen of sweat, the heat working its way through his resistance.

The river of fire was searing.

The real challenge lay deeper. Atticus had to align his emotions with the nature of fire. Fire was wild, unpredictable, yet it could also be controlled and directed.

He needed to find that balance within himself. He searched his feelings, letting go of his usual control, allowing the fire to sense his anger, his passion, and his drive. Atticus replayed the faces of his enemies in his mind, syncing them with the fire's energy.

As his emotions flowed freely, he noticed a change.

The fire molecules around him began to respond, their chaotic movement slowing just slightly, aligning with the rhythm of his heart.

His fingers, which had been tapping instinctively, now rested still on his knees. The physical action was no longer necessary; the connection was starting to form on a deeper, more profound level.

Atticus's mind dove into the fire, not trying to control it, but to understand it, to be in sync with it. He let his thoughts merge with the fire's essence, feeling its intensity, warmth, destructive power, and life-giving light.

The deeper he went, the more he lost himself in the flow, until there was no distinction between where he ended and the fire began.

It was exhausting—more mentally than physically. He felt his consciousness stretching thin, but he held on, refusing to let go.

He knew he was close; the fire was no longer just around him—it was part of him, and he was part of it. The connection was still fragile, like a thread, coming and going, but it was there.

Time passed, though Atticus didn't keep track. Weeks turned into months until a significant amount of time had passed.

Then, he felt it—a slight shift, a moment of perfect alignment. The fire molecules slowed their chaotic dance even further, their rhythm perfectly matching his heartbeat.

Atticus's eyes snapped open, glowing with an inner light. The fire around him responded, swirling closer, not with hostility, but in harmony.