ATTICUS’S ODYSSEY: REINCARNATED INTO A PLAYGROUND

The alliance of Eldoralth consisted of all the races on the planet. The alliance was ruled by the superior races, and while it meant they made every decision that influenced the planet as a whole, it didn’t mean they were unified.

Far from it. Currently, there was brewing tension amongst the superior and other races, especially after discovering the presence of Vampyros and Dimensari spies in their midst.

The allied races, especially their leaders, each had different goals and aspirations. Different thoughts. Ways of thinking.

This was why, as Atticus Ravenstein, an eighteen-year-old boy who should just be finishing his basic training in the alliance military camp, had almost killed two of the strongest beings on the planet, the reactions of the paragons varied wildly.

The Nullite race paragon remained still and lost.

The Lucendi, Regenerari, Obliteri, Evolari, Requiem, Transmutari, and Demon races made no moves and instead, their eyes were fixed closely on the unfolding scene.

If they could, they would have. However, stopping a being of that power was an impossibility. This matter did not concern them, and thus, they decided to stay out of it.

However, the Dragon race paragon and, not surprisingly, the Vampyros race paragon had no such reservations.

For the former, his grandson, Drakthanion’s life was currently at stake. And for the dragon race, there was nothing greater than kin.

In an instant, scales like obsidian hardened around his body, spreading like armor. A jagged horn burst from his forehead, curving skyward. Molten flames surged around him, coiling like serpents.

The temperature soared as the paragon of dragons took form, his molten eyes cutting through the chaos and landing on Atticus.

By then, a radiant blackened armor had already enveloped Jezeneth. She stood poised, spear in hand, the bloodlust radiating from her enough to make armies falter.

She looked feral, almost wild, with a gleam in her eyes, as though she was happy, as though this was exactly what she’d been waiting for.

Her orders from that man had been clear, do not start anything with Atticus or the human domain. But she hadn’t started anything now. He had, and she was simply retaliating.

Neither Jezeneth nor the Dragon paragon locked eyes. Neither even moved.

But the moment their transformations completed, they vanished.

Just a single crack, as though space itself fractured, then they tore through the distance. In a blink, they were in front of Atticus, spear thrusting, piercing the air like a missile, claws swiping down with the force of a cataclysm.

But they weren’t the only ones.

Azrakan and Eletantron had snapped out of their reverie, and with it came an intense surge of rage that ignited their veins. Their auras erupted, power peaking in a flash. Then, dimensional blades formed in their hands, humming with enough force to crack reality itself.

With feral gazes, they too fractured space, disappearing and reappearing beside the still, silent Atticus, their blades slicing down in a synchronized, devastating strike.

The expressions of Zenon and the other paragons shot wide. To think people of their stature, leaders of their respective races, would all gang up on Atticus like this…

However, despite the devastating attacks inches away from ripping him to shreds, it did nothing, absolutely nothing, to shake Atticus.

He uttered one word, and the attacks seemed to still.

“Ozeroth.”

It had been almost two years since Atticus bonded with the prideful spirit. And in all that time, Ozeroth had only revealed himself once, on the day of the bond. After that, he had simply fused with Atticus, letting him do all the heavy lifting.

It wasn’t that Atticus never wanted to use him, he just never needed to.

But now… he did.

A pillar of blinding purple burst from his body, erupting into the sky with a roar, the sheer force releasing a shockwave that sent paragons hurtling backward, eyes wide, mouths agape, power cracking around them.

Then came a voice, booming, theatrical, dripping with so much pride it bordered on divine arrogance.

“Yes, yes, it’s high time the world witnesses the magnificence of Ozeroth!”

The pillar collapsed inward, condensing, molding, and from it emerged a figure that made the air itself tremble.

Taller than Atticus, cloaked in radiant purple aura that shimmered like a thousand suns, stood Ozeroth.

His hair flowed back in ethereal waves, dancing like it had its own ego. A perfectly shaped goatee adorned his chin, trimmed so precisely it looked like he’d done it mid-transformation. His eyes sparkled with smugness, as if mocking reality itself.

In his hands, two massive hammers, engraved with intricate, ancient inscriptions, hummed with godlike power, the air around them distorting, trembling.

With all eyes on him, he raised one brow and grinned.

“Take a good look, I know perfection can be overwhelming.”

His words slammed onto the paragons like a heavy weight, the sheer audacity of it all sitting on a planetary scale. But they weren’t even focused on the prideful words. No.

It was the aura.

The sheer force he radiated… matched Atticus’.

For a moment, the minds of the paragons froze.

Where the hell had this being come from?

They’d heard reports about Atticus bonding with a powerful spirit. But that news had long faded, becoming irrelevant, buried under the sheer dominance Atticus displayed alone. He had never used the spirit before.

But now… now that spirit had emerged, and not just emerged, but stood shoulder to shoulder in might with the child they all dreaded.

And that changed everything.

Atticus and Ozeroth’s gazes met.

The former, expressionless, calm as ever.

The latter, grinning wide, like he couldn’t wait to be unleashed.

They spoke no words. The interaction was brief, completely brief, yet it was as though everything had been said in that single glance.

Their gazes parted. The world held its breath.

The gazes of Eletantron, Azrakan, Jezeneth, and the Dragon twisted, shifting from aggression to wariness, then caution.

Time resumed.

And then, an eruption of aura so vast, so violently divine, it would dwarf a supernova, blasted from Atticus and Ozeroth at once. The ground cracked. Space shuddered.

One brandished his katana. The other raised his twin hammers.

They moved.

Atticus erased the distance, his body trailing streaks of black-crimson light. His exosuit surged, siphoning mana and spiritual energy from the very air, feeding his every motion, every breath.

His speed peaked, blurring into pure motion. His katana flashed, millions of slashes appeared in an instant, dancing across the battlefield, converging mercilessly on Eletantron and Azrakan.

Their expressions darkened, turning grim as their eyes narrowed into pinpricks. But they weren’t the only ones under siege.

A cataclysmic boom shattered the air as Ozeroth collided with the Dragon Paragon, the sky itself rippling in concentric shockwaves.

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