Atticus’s Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground - Chapter 935

Chapter 935: Fall
Earlier, the grand elders had each been shocked when they saw him battling Yorowin. He had treated the grand elder as though he were a child. As though he were nothing.

They refused to believe he was capable of such a feat. To them, something had to be wrong with Yorowin.

But now, seven of them had attacked him together.

Seven grand elders of the vampyros race.

Seven of the strongest beings on the planet.

Yet, they had been bested.

By a fucking child.

It was inconceivable, a situation that made each elder question reality itself.

It hadn’t been Yorowin. Nothing had been wrong with him. Everything had been all him.

The humans had birthed a monster. A monster in human skin.

To think Yorowin had faced such a being alone…

The grand elders shuddered.

But they weren’t the only ones. The human paragons wore expressions of utter disbelief.

They had been struggling to battle a single grand elder, and yet Atticus had overwhelmed seven in one go?

Their shock was apparent.

But this was the battlefield. There was no time for hesitation.

Thunder rumbled. A streak of lightning tore through the atmosphere, forming into the radiant figure of Magnus, who appeared in front of a beheaded elder in a flash.

The grand elders had been beheaded, but it was well known, paragons were not so easy to kill.

Magnus’s hands shot backward before surging forward, hurling a lightning spear that roared through the air like a spear of judgment.

It hit.

A blinding flash of white light ignited as lightning cracked around the elder, electrocuting every inch of him.

Pain engulfed the elder, who liquefied and reappeared in another location in a burst of blood, his gaze feral.

The battlefield stilled.

The grand elders’ gazes narrowed.

The human paragons’ gazes narrowed.

The world slowed.

Atticus and Magnus moved.

Chaos erupted.

A streak of azure and purple. A streak of lightning.

Magnus blurred forward, his lightning spear screaming through the air, tearing apart sound and light as it sought the reforming elder.

The strike connected.

A deafening explosion erupted, lighting up the battlefield like a second sun. The force tore apart the ground, creating a crater that seemed to stretch endlessly.

The elder liquefied again, his form reappearing in a burst of blood across the battlefield.

Before he could recover, Atticus was there.

A streak of azure and purple ripped through the battlefield, so fast it seemed as though space itself struggled to keep up.

Atticus’s katana met the elder’s blood-red spear mid-air.

CLANG!

The collision birthed a shockwave so powerful that it distorted reality itself. The sky rippled like water, the clouds above twisting unnaturally.

Before the elder could think, Magnus was already there.

His fist crackled with lightning as it descended from above, aiming to crush the elder. The elder dodged, but the force of Magnus’s strike fractured the land, sending jagged spikes of earth shooting upward.

In the next second, another elder joined the fray, his crimson blade swinging toward Atticus.

But Atticus’s figure dissolved, the attack dispersing his afterimage.

He had already moved.

His katana flashed, severing the elder’s head in one smooth motion.

Atticus and Magnus gazes collided mid air. No words were said, but the intensity of their gazes spoke volumes.

Their gazes separated. They moved.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Multiple collisions erupted all across the battlefield as the human paragons and grand elders clashed.

Each clash felt like a star detonating.

The battlefield devolved into chaos.

The Vampyros grand elders unleashed their full power, their crimson haze thickening and creating an atmosphere so oppressive it felt as though the battlefield was drenched in blood.

But the humans weren’t undone.

Aside from Whisker’s will, which enveloped the human paragons like an unyielding shield, there was Atticus.

His crimson will bled across the battlefield like a second storm, settling on each human paragon and fortifying their resistance. The suffocating haze became bearable. Their breathing steadied. Their strength surged.

Atticus blurred across the battlefield, his katana cutting arcs of azure and purple through the haze. He worked in tandem with the other paragons, slashing, slashing, slashing.

Their combined might defied the natural order.

Laws bent and crumbled.

The ground trembled, fissures racing across the battlefield. The air screamed, vibrating violently under the unrelenting force, streaks of crimson, azure, and lightning tearing through it like jagged scars.

The grand elders, despite their ferocity, found themselves overwhelmed.

The human strikes came like an unrelenting storm, each one building upon the last, denying the elders even a moment to recover.

The battle raged, akin to a chaotic war zone where an attack could scream in from anywhere.

Humanity was winning. And despite the thrill that currently consumed them, not a single one of the paragons failed to recognize the cause of their advantage.

It wasn’t the strength of the human paragons, it was their coordination. And it was all brought together by one person: Atticus.

He was everywhere, streaking across the battlefield, rapidly destroying the drops of blood infused with the elders’ life force before they could spread them.

Anytime an elder was caught off guard, he was there.

Anytime a human paragon was overwhelmed, he was there.

He moved with purpose, as though he knew their actions before they happened. The human paragons recognized the new abilities he was utilizing, but they kept their thoughts focused. Now wasn’t the time for questions.

The battle reached its peak, and the expressions of the elders shifted in waves:

Anger. Shock. Caution.

And finally, a hint of fear began creeping in.

Atticus’s speed was unreal, and at the pace he was destroying the drops of blood infused with their life force, it was obvious their deaths were inevitable.

As the fear settled deeper within them, the atmosphere suddenly shifted.

An overwhelming aura descended upon the battlefield, causing every movement to abruptly cease.

All heads turned upward as the sky cracked open.

A brilliant tear split the heavens, revealing a figure plummeting toward the battlefield like a falling star.

The descent was impossibly fast, the sheer force of the being’s presence dragging the atmosphere in its wake.

BOOM!

The earth shattered as the figure crashed into the ground with the force of a meteor, sending shockwaves that tore through the land and creating a thick, choking shroud around the crater.

The battlefield was silent, every gaze locked on the epicenter of destruction.

The dust began to settle, but before anyone could see through the haze, another figure appeared.

Slowly, casually, he hovered downward.

A massive grin adorned his face, his sharp crimson eyes amused. He floated just above the crater, arms crossed, his blue hair flowing wildly as if caught in a storm.

Whisker.

The shock that surged through those watching was palpable.

The Blood Queen Jezeneth… had lost?