Atticus’s Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground - Chapter 1037

Chapter 1037: Futile? [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter]
‘Shit!’

Drakthanion’s head snapped back towards his front, but it was already too late. Viktor’s punch was already at his chest.

His eyes widened.

“Too late.”

BOOOOOOM!!!

The impact detonated through his body.

A blast wave followed, ripping through the forest as Draktharion was launched like a cannonball, crashing through multiple hills before slamming into a distant cliff, reducing it to rubble and flame.

And then… silence.

Viktor stood in the smoldering ruin, his breath coming in ragged, heavy gasps, black smoke curling from his nostrils.

The hellfire around him dimmed slowly, flickering weakly before fading altogether, revealing the true extent of his condition.

His body… was a wreck.

Burnt skin clung to muscle, cracked and blistered. Chunks of charred flesh peeled with every movement. His once bulging muscles now looked scorched and torn.

And as the adrenaline drained, an overwhelming fatigue struck like a hammer. His legs wobbled beneath him. His vision blurred. But the fire in his eyes never dulled.

Viktor ignored the chaos rumbling in the skies above. He didn’t care about the world crashing down. Not the plummeting island. Not the carnage of the paragon war. Not even the searing pain shooting through every inch of his body.

His eyes were only on one thing.

The orb.

Still hovering… untouched by flame, ash, or carnage. Glistening faintly, like it belonged to another world entirely.

Even as his body screamed in agony, his legs moved.

One step.

Then another.

And another.

Each movement took everything from him. The distance felt endless, like the orb was moving farther with every breath.

His flames had long died. His body no longer responded properly. But still, he pressed on, his gaze locked on that faint gleam of hope.

And then, he heard it.

The sound of the air splitting apart.

The earth groaning.

Draktharion was rising again.

Charging toward him like a force of nature reborn.

But Viktor didn’t stop. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look back.

He reached out his trembling, blood-soaked hand toward the core.

And then…

SNAP.

A sound echoed across the world.

A pulse surged from the skies. And mana vanished.

The entire battlefield fell into a void of silence, a dead zone where no art, no aura, no energy could respond.

And Viktor felt it instantly.

The last thread of mana that had been subtly keeping him alive, keeping his body from collapsing completely, was gone.

His legs buckled beneath him.

“Shit…”

But before he hit the ground

Whoosh!

His body turned weightless, lifted upward by an unseen force.

He wasn’t the only one.

All across the battlefield, the same thing was happening. Everyone was forced into the air.

Aurora. Zoey. Kael. The sergeants. The apexes. Even the injured and unconscious.

They hovered suspended in the skies, unable to move.

And just behind the apexes,

Carius had appeared, staring at them as though he wanted to tear them into pieces. Lirae, Maera, Torren, Kynara and Ae’ark were still alive.

Every gaze locked forward as the atmosphere darkened.

And then Viktor saw it. The cause of it all.

A figure floating high above the battlefield, eyes calculating, limbs mechanical, presence inhuman.

“A… Z-Zorvan?”

His heart shook violently.

Never, never in his wildest nightmares had Viktor imagined that a Zorvan would be behind this chaos.

How did one infiltrate the Alliance?!

BOOM!

A thunderous sound rang out.

Multiple streaks of light descended from the sky, plummeting down like fallen stars.

Next, the Obsidian Order paragons descended slowly from the sky afterwards and hovered behind Xal’zereth like reapers summoned by fate.

And below, Colonel Zenon burst out of rubble, landing on a cracked platform of earth with a pained groan. He ignored his wounds, gaze locked upward.

His expression collapsed into despair.

The Alliance paragons, some of the strongest protectors of their world, were falling.

Many were dead. Some broken. And all defeated.

The sudden mana suppression had tipped the balance. Only the Alliance members had been affected, and because of this, caught unaware. The Obsidian Order struck without hesitation, taking full advantage.

Zenon’s fists clenched.

“It’s over…”

Xal’zereth floated in the sky like a god among ants, his multiple black eyes scanning the battlefield with mechanical detachment.

His voice echoed, sharp and cold.

“Inefficient. Your primitive lives are wasteful. Weak. Governed by emotion and chaos.”

His words stabbed the air like blades.

“You have proven yourselves unworthy of autonomy. Unworthy of progress. And so, the Zorvans shall bring enlightenment, through dominion. Through order. Through extermination of waste.”

His tone didn’t rise. He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. His presence alone weighed more than a mountain.

But then, for the first time, his eyes narrowed.

He focused on a figure floating among the frozen crowd.

Viktor.

The demon’s eyes met the Zorvan’s, and everything stilled.

“You…”

Every gaze turned.

All eyes snapped toward Viktor, each one as confused as the last. Even Carius tilted his head.

What was happening?

Why had the Zorvan suddenly acknowledged Viktor specifically?

And then, a small glimmer of light began to shine… from Viktor’s clenched fist.

A bright, blinding glow. Radiating from an… orb.

Xal’zereth’s voice came again. Flat. Disdainful.

“Futile. A meaningless act. Even if you release him… he is still outmatched. You’ll only die a meaningless death.”

But Zenon’s eyes widened.

“No… don’t tell me—”

That was where Atticus had been? The realization hit like a storm.

The other apexes felt it too. Their expressions shifted as they each came to the same conclusions.

So that was why Atticus had vanished.

So that was where he’d been all along.

However, Viktor didn’t respond. But a faint, weary smirk stretched across his scorched lips.

‘Maybe the Zorvan didn’t care… maybe he thought it wouldn’t matter. But he just gave me everything I needed.’

His grip tightened.

The glowing light grew brighter, pulsing in his hand like a sun about to be born.

The Zorvan had called it meaningless.

But to Viktor, it was the only thing that would ever mean anything.

He raised his battered hand high, as though he was defiant against gods.

“For him,” Viktor growled, voice hoarse but steady, “my death can never be meaningless.”

A light burst outward from Viktor, igniting the sky in a blinding radiance.

“I give my life… to free Atticus Ravenstein.”

BOOOOOM!!!

The orb exploded with light, an overwhelming surge of power rippling through reality itself.

And as it dimmed—

A figure appeared.