Atticus’s Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

“Try and reach Atticus! Get him here immediately!” Ozeroth barked, desperation seeping into his tone. If what he suspected was true, then they didn’t have a second to waste.

Just as Ozeroth was about to launch another strike at the pillar, a voice rumbled through the domain.

“Ozeroth.”

Ozeroth froze.

Instantly, he rocketed backward, retreating with blazing speed and reforming his hammer into two. He held them tightly, his glare locked onto the pillar as it began to collapse inward.

The massive structure shrank, the radiant light drawing into itself. Two distinct masses began to form, one condensed into a dome of protection around Zoey, and the other twisted into a searing orb of purple energy, growing brighter and denser with each second.

Ozeroth’s face darkened as the orb flared, then burst.

From its core, a figure stepped out.

He walked with calm grace, power radiating off him in waves that distorted the air.

His form glowed so brightly it was as though a second sun of pure violet had appeared in the heart of the human domain.

The Spirit King.

“Ozeroth.”

The voice boomed like thunder, shaking the land.

The spiritual energy froze. Even the air stilled.

Ozeroth locked eyes with the Spirit King. Then, he clenched his hammers so tightly, the air around him shuddered.

“Shit.”

The Spirit King stood tall, and his face, surprisingly, was gentle. His aura was calm. Peaceful. Like a leaf drifting across a serene lake.

But his eyes… they were not.

“You don’t seem happy to see me,” the Spirit King said with a soft smile.

“Yeah… that’s because you’re so damn ugly, you’re burning my eyes,” Ozeroth replied, trying hard to hide the unsettling feeling taking root deep in his gut.

The Spirit King chuckled, unbothered. “So this is the place you now call home?”

He glanced around, his gaze dripping with disdain.

“It is,” Ozeroth replied. “And it’s better than that shit hole you call the spirit world. At least your stench doesn’t choke the air here.”

The Spirit King’s expression sharpened. His voice came cold.

“Aerithis is your home. The place that raised you. Have some respect.”

Ozeroth scoffed. “Says the one who devoured civilizations like candy.”

A brief frown flickered across the king’s face. Then he sighed. When he spoke again, his tone was quieter. Almost… mournful.

“Ozeroth… I did what I had to. For Aerithis. For our people. I don’t expect you to understand. But are you truly willing to abandon the world that nurtured you? That made you who you are? You’re one of its greatest warriors. And for Aerithis to survive, we need this world. We need power.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Ozeroth said coldly. “I’m not against killing. I’ll slaughter civilizations if they stand in my way.”

He paused.

“But only if they stand in my way.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You? You’re different. Disgustingly so. It’s one thing to ignore the fate of other civilizations. But you… you hunt them. For power. You kill for no other reason than selfish gain.”

He raised a hand, pointing to the king’s back. The light had faded. But Ozeroth saw it.

The shadows. The dead.

The countless spirits that had just died, sacrificed, so the Spirit King could descend with enough power.

His own people.

Used like tools.

That was the line.

That was his line.

And the Spirit King had crossed it without hesitation.

“A man like you…” Ozeroth said, voice low, “cannot be trusted.”

Silence descended upon the domain.

The wind was still and the light trembled.

Then, the Spirit King sighed again, heavier and deeper this time.

“A shame,” he said softly. “As my blood… I expected better.”

The words struck Ozeroth like a hammer to the chest. His entire being trembled.

But before he could even ask what he meant, the Spirit King spoke one word.

“WorldStep.”

Ozeroth’s eyes flew open wide.

One step, and the Spirit King was upon him.

Centuries of battle instincts surged back to him. Ozeroth’s body moved before his thoughts could catch up.

He spun, twin hammers tearing through the air in a violent burst of speed. The Spirit King appeared in a flash of light, only to be met with the image of a massive hammer of purple crashing toward his face.

The Spirit King’s expression didn’t change. He raised his arm, and a surge of purple light converged around his palm.

The hammer slammed into the light, and for a moment, everything paused.

Then, a violent burst of purple exploded outward. A pillar of pure energy pierced the sky and crashed toward the earth.

The world shuddered. The skies turned violet, engulfed in a haze of rippling energy and swirling power.

From within the storm of light, the Spirit King’s gaze sharpened.

His body twisted sharply to the right, a beam of pure purple screamed toward him like a lance of wrath.

“Void Maw.”

A void opened in front of him, swallowing the beam whole.

His eyes flashed, locking onto Ozeroth, who came hurtling toward him like a meteor.

“Devourer’s Echo.”

A blinding purple light burst from the void and the exact same beam was sent screaming back toward Ozeroth with terrifying speed.

But like a phantom, Ozeroth’s form zipped left. The beam tore past him, grazing his wake.

He joined his twin hammers into one, then morphed it into a spear.

He thrust forward.

Violent currents of wind spiraled along the weapon’s length, the air rippling like water. It tore toward the Spirit King like a lance meant to annihilate.

But the Spirit King’s voice rang again.

“Mirror Will.”

A wave of killing intent so potent it could drench worlds slammed onto Ozeroth.

His entire body shook, focus slipping for a breathless instant.

But for the Spirit King, it was more than enough.

His figure vanished forward, and just as Ozeroth regained his grip, the Spirit King’s fist slammed into his chest.

A thunderous boom echoed across the domain, the shockwave rippled through Ozeroth’s body, warping the air around him.

He was sent flying, tearing backward through the sky, leaving spirals of air in his wake as he crashed into the ground with cataclysmic force, skipping across the land for kilometers.

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