Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

Chapter 885  Screwed

'I don't know what they say. Do you?'

'No,' Ozeroth admitted. 'But you should be able to generally guess their meaning. Check for a pattern.'

Atticus had been staring at the symbols etched on the circular stone's body. Despite the fact that he had memorized practically every language in Eldoralth, he couldn't recognize these symbols.

'Where is he sending me to?' This was the thought that came to Atticus's mind. He couldn't understand it. A language that was different from the known races' languages? It was very suspicious and, at the same time, dangerous.

'What do you think?'

Ozeroth fell silent for a moment.

'Bond. It's impossible to truly and completely know a person's intent. In this case, you should look at the facts.'

Atticus nodded, his mind swirling.

'He wouldn't want to kill me. Not now, at least. All his previous actions indicate that he wants me to reach the peak,' Atticus pondered, his gaze flickering. 'Then this could only be beneficial.'

Ozeroth silently agreed. 'Be cautious.'

Atticus smiled.

'Since when do you start caring so much?'

'Tch. I just wouldn't want you to die a foolish death. I have a reputation to protect, Bond.'

Atticus laughed. "Right, right."

He could feel Ozeroth's intense gaze boring into him from his mind, but he ignored it.

Reaching this conclusion, Atticus decided to follow Ozeroth's advice and thoroughly scanned the markings on the circular stone.

He allowed Ozeroth's voice to fade into the background, his mind utterly honed in on the task. 'Patterns. Look for the patterns.'

The circular stone wasn't random. Symbols were etched in clusters, repeating every few inches. Atticus was sure they were deliberate.

Each cluster was different. Some were more intricate, others simple, but they all shared one thing.

He could see it. The races of Eldoralth.

In a circular fashion all around the stone were different images representing the races of Eldoralth. He could see the defining features of each race.

'This isn't a language. It's a message. An instruction,' Atticus realized.

His mind raced, trying to piece everything together.

'There are more than I know.'

The races depicted on the circular stone were numerous, more than the sixteen races of Eldoralth.

'That's right. From history, the Zorvans annihilated some races.'

From what Atticus could see, aside from the sixteen races, there were three more images on the stone, which he suspected represented the other, now-extinct races.

'Five spots.'

The images of the nineteen races were etched at the edge of the circular stone, with intricate lines tracing toward five small, empty circles in the inner part of the stone. These five circles surrounded one with two foot indentations.

'Hmm.' Atticus was beginning to understand what the markings meant.

'I guess that's where I stand.'

He approached the two foot indentations and fit his legs into them. Then, he closed his eyes and entered an absolute state of focus.

The symbols were a language Atticus couldn't understand. But luckily, they weren't the only thing there. The images alone were explanatory enough.

'Nineteen races, but only five are necessary.'

This had been Atticus's thought process, and he had reached this conclusion in less than a second.

If it had been the Atticus of before, he would have been lost even after figuring this out. It was far too vague. Did it mean he needed five races to activate whatever this was? This would have been his thought before.

But now, not so much.

Atticus's mana churned as he focused. He didn't need five different races. Not while he could mimic their mana signatures.

'Dimensari.' n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

A second passed as Atticus activated the technique of the Dimensari, changing his mana signature to match their race. Without hesitation, he directed the mana to his feet. The foot indentation he was standing on lit up with a blue glow, its light streaming through the platform before settling on one of the five empty circles.

Atticus repeated the same for the others and activated the techniques he had acquired from the superior races.

As the last circle filled up, the ground beneath Atticus quaked violently, a low rumble coming from deep within the earth. The air crackled. Pressure surged, suffocating and dense.

The light in the five circles pulsed once, twice, then exploded outward. It raced across the stone platform, igniting every symbol and word etched into its surface.

Atticus steadied himself. His instincts screamed at him, but he stood firm, unmoving. The symbols blazed brighter, their glow overwhelming. The entire platform became a beacon of pure energy.

The air shifted. A breeze swept through the forest, carrying an unnatural chill. The light intensified, blinding, piercing. Until—

BOOM.

A column of searing light erupted skyward, swallowing Atticus whole.

Far away, at the Vampyros fortress, Grand Elder Yorowin froze mid-sentence. His fingers stopped turning the pages of the book in his hands.

His gaze snapped sideways, sharp as a dagger.

"What—"

He didn't finish. His body moved before his mind caught up.

With a deafening crash, Yorowin shot forward, obliterating the stone chair he had been seated on. The room around him shattered, walls bursting into fragments of stone and wood.

BOOM!

A shockwave rippled outward, tearing through the fortress like a hurricane. Windows shattered. Pillars crumbled. Vampyros warriors stumbled.

In an instant, Yorowin was outside. He streaked across the sky, the force of his ascent sending a gale roaring through the surrounding forest, uprooting trees and scattering wildlife.

As a paragon, a nanosecond was all he needed.

Yorowin reappeared in the sky, his crimson eyes locked on the dimming light in the distance. His pupils dilated.

"No!"

His voice thundered like an oncoming storm.

His figure blurred, streaking toward the light. But just as he reached for it—

Gone.

The column of light vanished, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air.

Yorowin hit the ground with catastrophic force. The earth caved beneath his feet, cracks spiderwebbing out for miles.

A wave of dust and debris rolled outward, choking the air.

"Shit!"

Bloodlust flooded the air, thick and suffocating.

Yorowin's rage radiated like a wildfire. Its intensity suffused the forest, so potent that nearby beasts collapsed, their lifeless forms littering the ground.

His teeth clenched. His fists tightened.

He was furious.

'Why, why, why, why…' the same word replayed over and over in his head as his anger peaked.

He had wanted to play it safe. He had wanted to be careful, and now that had cost him everything.

Grand Elder Yorowin gazed at where Atticus had just disappeared, his body radiating a coldness that made the air freeze.

'It was him.'

He could remember vividly. The face of Atticus had already been burned into the minds of every race in Eldoralth. Atticus had been the one to enter the spire.

And that could only mean one thing.

Elder Yorowin's gaze swept the forest, encompassing everything, even the human side of the buffer zone. There was no sign of the twenty Blood Shadows he had sent.

Atticus had killed them.

Yorowin's hand clenched hard. He had miscalculated. He hadn't assessed the situation appropriately, and now he had failed.

The Vampyros fortress bordering the human domain wasn't significant enough to warrant the stationing of a paragon or as many as 43 Blood Shadows. The only reason Yorowin had been at the fortress was because of what Atticus had just discovered.

The Shifting Spire.

A mysterious and ancient phenomenon, the Shifting Spire manifested sporadically across Eldoralth, appearing only for a limited time before vanishing. Cloaked in secrecy and shrouded in legends that transcended races, it was one of Eldoralth's greatest mysteries.

Only a very few Vampyros were aware of its existence. And its discovery had come from one of the many ancient chronicles of the Vampyros race.

It was said that anyone granted access to the Spire would uncover the truth of Eldoralth and invaluable knowledge on how to gain the ultimate power of the world.

Its value was immeasurable, which was why, after detecting signs of its appearance, Yorowin, a paragon, had been tasked with locating and retrieving that information.

He had come to this fortress with the Blood Shadows to cover ground silently, choosing not to act recklessly so as not to arouse too much suspicion. But not only had he failed to gain access, he had lost 23 elite Blood Shadows.

'She won't like this.'

Yorowin's gaze turned cold. It was a monumental failure, one that would not be tolerated by the Blood Queen, Jezenet.

Even as a paragon, Yorowin shuddered at the thought of her reaction. He doubted whether even he would be spared.

His gaze hardened. 'It can't end like this.'

Yorowin raised his arm, and in the next instant, about 20 figures appeared before him, kneeling with their heads bowed. They were the remaining Blood Shadows.

"Send a message to Vyn at the human fortress…"

The Blood Shadow at the front of the group listened intently as Yorowin spoke. After the elder finished, the figure bowed before blurring into motion, heading to fulfill Yorowin's orders.

Yorowin's gaze shifted to the rest. "Spread out and wait. Be ready to act."

The Blood Shadows dispersed, landing silently in the trees and blending into the shadows, preparing for an ambush.

While this was happening, Fort Echohelm of the Resonara family had descended into chaos.

The three scouts who had accompanied Atticus had long since returned to the fortress, and word of what had transpired spread like wildfire.

Atticus had killed Vampyros grandmasters+.

The entire fortress shuddered under the weight of this revelation. A palpable, suffocating fear gripped every human who heard the news, including the fortress master, Cadence.

What was supposed to be a stress-free and routine position at the fortress had turned into one of the most challenging situations in Cadence's life.

As the news reached him, he slumped back into his seat, his gaze vacant.

They were screwed.