Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

Chapter 888  Both

It was not in the human language.

It was not any language that Atticus was familiar with.

But somehow, Atticus knew what the man had said.

Come.

The moment Atticus heard it, control over his body was seized.

His figure shot forward, wind whipping around him as he came to a stop, hovering mid-air in front of the seated man.

The figure's gaze bore into him, unblinking, as if dissecting his very soul. Its eyes were pure gold, radiating a soft, otherworldly light.

Atticus's breath froze. He forced himself to stay calm, but his mind was a storm of thoughts. He couldn't move, no matter how much he tried. He attempted everything, every single one of his powers, yet he couldn't even lift a finger.

'Ozeroth?' he called inwardly.

"Bo—"

Ozeroth's voice was cut off as the figure spoke again, its deep tone rumbling like an ancient mountain shifting.

"This is a trial for you," the figure said slowly. "I suggest you minimize contact with… another."

Atticus's eyes narrowed. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his thoughts were racing.

Had this man heard him? Or could he… read minds? He truly hoped not.

"No," the man's voice rumbled again, almost amused. "I cannot read minds."

Ozeroth's voice erupted in Atticus's head, seething. 'Another? Another!? How dare he call the great Ozeroth 'another'? I am no mere shadow to be dismissed. The only 'another' here is him!'

'Now is not the time,' Atticus snapped inwardly, his irritation clear.

Ozeroth scoffed. 'Hmph. I just wanted to set things straight. My greatness demands respect…'

Atticus ignored the spirit's ramblings, his sharp gaze fixed on the man before him. There were far more pressing matters to address.

'That doesn't sound convincing.' He mulled over the figure's claims. The fact that this being anticipated his thoughts again made him uneasy.

Atticus hated this sort of situations. He hated feeling helpless in the face of overwhelming power. There was no doubt about his current predicament: his life was in the hands of this entity.

The figure smiled faintly. "You're an interesting one. What is your name?"

Atticus hesitated for a moment before answering, "Atticus."

"Atticus…" The man's voice lingered on the name, as though savoring its weight. "What an ambitious name. As expected from the offspring of the Fallen Star."

Atticus's eyes flickered with confusion. "Fallen Star?"

The figure ignored the question, its tone suddenly shifting. "Do you know where you are?"

Atticus stared silently for a moment before shaking his head.

"This," the figure said, and with a gesture, Atticus's hovering form turned to face the vast hall, "is the Eldest Veil, a sanctuary of memory, crafted by the last of my kind. Its purpose is to inform those deemed worthy of the truths of the past."

"The past?"

The man's gaze sharpened. "Do you wish to know?"

Before Atticus could respond, the invisible force holding him snapped. He flew backward, slamming onto the smooth floor and skidding for meters before regaining control.

The figure's voice thundered. "Then prove that you are worthy."

The air around them exploded.

The walls of the hall stretched endlessly, dissolving into the void. The floor beneath them expanded, seeming to stretch infinitely in all directions.

Atticus's hand shot to his katana. His battle intent flared as his cold eyes locked on the figure. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The man slowly stood from his cross-legged position. The movement was unhurried, calm, yet it carried a weight that made Atticus feel impossibly small.

The aura radiating from the man was vast, suffocating. It pressed down on Atticus like a mountain, making his knees tremble. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he fought to stay upright.

"Defeat me," the man said, his voice sounding like a god's decree. "Prove that you are worthy."

'Shit,' Atticus cursed inwardly, sweat forming on his brow. The man had immobilized him without lifting a finger. How was he supposed to win?

'Ozeroth?'

Atticus called for his prideful spirit. If Ozeroth had any ideas, he was all ears.

'Ahem. I'll let you handle this, Bond. I can't hold your hand every time now, can I?'

Atticus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'Shameless.'

He forced his mind to focus, analyzing, strategizing. 'Think. There's always a way. Always.'

The figure chuckled, the sound like the crackling of a bonfire. "I like that look in your eyes. Even in the face of hopelessness, you refuse to cower."

The aura around the man shifted, shrinking in size. The suffocating pressure receded slightly, but its potency remained.

"You need not worry," the man said, his tone turning serious. "I am fair."

The oppressive aura condensed further, drawing into the figure's form until it matched Atticus's own power level.

"Now," the man continued. "We are equals."

He gestured toward Atticus, his battle intent peaking.

"Come."

The world stilled.

Nothing but silence.

The stars above shifted ever so slightly, their reflections on the polished black floor flickering faintly. The air was heavy, the tension suffocating.

Atticus didn't wait.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

He moved.

There had always been arguments among the Ravenstein family about which element was the fastest. Heated debates, fiery tempers, endless disputes.

Some claimed it was fire, for its relentless and destructive force. Others argued for water, for its adaptability and fluidity.

But among them all, two factions always remained silent.

Air. The freest of all elements. Unbound, unrestrained. It moved with unparalleled speed, invisible yet everywhere at once. A force so fast it could escape any confinement, flowing through every crack, every opening.

And lightning. Pure, unrelenting energy. It didn't just move; it raced, tearing through the sky with a deafening roar. A raw force of nature, faster than thought, faster than the eye could follow.

Since waking from his deep slumber, Atticus had discovered something staggering: his intelligence had increased to incredible levels, affecting every aspect of his abilities.

Before, when using the peak aspect of his elements, Atticus could focus only on one element at a time. But now, he wasn't bound by that limitation.

Air. Lightning. He had both.

Atticus's voice rumbled.

"Lightning Domain Fusion."