Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 847

Chapter 847 Crumble

Atticus's gaze narrowed, his instincts screaming like a blaring horn. He leapt again, vanishing and reappearing in the next instant, his movements sharp and precise.

Every time he dodged, the labyrinth shifted, closing in tighter, but Atticus remained calm. His mind worked quickly, planning his next move.

Atticus was in a surreal state. His bond with Ozeroth had opened his mind to countless possibilities, leaving him in what could only be described as "the zone."

Everything felt natural. In this state, techniques he had learned from other races came to him effortlessly, allowing him to use them even against a paragon.

But he knew this situation was dangerous.

Atticus's instincts screamed again, and his body flickered away just in time to avoid a gate closing in on him.

'This place bends to his will. I can't fight it directly.'

His hand hovered near his katana, his aura flaring.

'Then I'll bend him to mine.' His gaze turned cold.

'Wait.'

A deep voice boomed in his mind, freezing him mid-motion. He reappeared further away, just barely evading another attack.

'What?' Atticus demanded inwardly. Ever since the battle began, Ozeroth hadn't said a single word. At this point, he had grown used to the spirit's silence. It was as if Ozeroth had been treating the fight like entertainment or silently observing him.

Ozeroth's voice rumbled, 'What you were about to do, don't.'

The two were bonded now, sharing one mind. There was no hiding anything from each other.

'Why not?' Atticus's tone was sharp. He couldn't afford distractions, especially in a place like this. He was facing a paragon, and even a split second could be the difference between life and death.

'It's demeaning,' Ozeroth scoffed. 'You were about to thrash around like a headless beast, chasing shadows and destroying gates that mean nothing. And for what? To play into his hands? This is not how someone who aspires to stand at the pinnacle of power should fight.'

Atticus's gaze narrowed. He had never cared about how he fought as long as his opponent ended up dead. But it seemed Ozeroth had a different perspective.

'And what would you suggest, then?'

A low chuckle reverberated through his mind, condescending yet brimming with confidence.

'Finally, you ask the right question. This is not an ordinary battle. This is the day our names become legend. Let it be memorable. Let it be magnificent. Not a display of desperation, but one of dominance.'

'I'm listening.'

The rumble in Ozeroth's voice deepened, pride lacing every word.

'I'll teach you something sweet.'

Atticus didn't argue. He listened attentively, and in the next instant, his mind was flooded with a torrent of information, each piece fitting seamlessly into his instincts.

His focus sharpened. His breathing steadied. And his aura began to shift.

Blackgate's grin widened as he watched the gates close in tighter, warping and grinding against Atticus's every move.

It annoyed him to no end that he had been forced to use his ultimate power. Still, at the very least, he would finally be able to eliminate this threat.

"I think it's about time you died," Blackgate's voice reverberated through the labyrinth, cold and final.

"Run while you can, but you'll never escape. I'll make sure not even your bones are left when I'm done with you."

The labyrinth trembled as more gates appeared, countless attacks and beasts shooting out of each one, all converging on Atticus.

Blackgate expected him to run.

But Atticus didn't run.

He stopped.

Blackgate's grin faltered.

The condensed spiritual energy erupted outward in a blinding wave, tearing through the labyrinth like a tidal surge. The gates crumbled, their energy dissipating into nothingness.

Blackgate screamed, his voice reverberating through the collapsing maze. "NO!" He tried to manipulate and control the labyrinth, but it was to no avail.

Piece by piece, the labyrinth was dismantled. Atticus's aura surged one final time, the radiance around him reaching its peak.

He raised his hand again, spiritual energy coiling around it like a living force. The labyrinth trembled, its last remnants crumbling under his unrelenting power.

With a single, decisive motion, Atticus unleashed the full force of his spirit, shattering the labyrinth entirely. The void collapsed, and light flooded back into the world as Blackgate's ultimate move was torn apart.

Blackgate froze, disbelief washing over him.

"Impossible…" he muttered.

But Atticus didn't hesitate.

Not a nanosecond was wasted.

A streak of purple split the air.

A flash of motion, blinding, unrelenting.

Atticus was there, directly in front of Blackgate. His katana descended, its edge plummeting with catastrophic force.

The air around the blade howled, the sheer pressure ripping through the void.

Blackgate's eyes widened, his instincts screaming. He felt it.

Fear.

But it was too late.

CRACK!