Atticus’s Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

In the middle of a vast, dry desert, a gigantic metallic tower stood tall.

It was a completely imposing structure, with thick, cable like materials running from its base, burrowing into the ground like roots feeding on the earth's energy.

High above this imposing structure, a massive cannon like nozzle pointed far into the distance.

Inside a control room just a few meters away from the massive nozzle, men and women dressed in white lab coats moved around, tapping rapidly on the screens of their handheld devices.

Their eyes darted between the data and the giant weapon, each of them entering codes and adjusting parameters carefully.

Behind the scientists stood a group of elders, clad in elaborately decorated robes.

Their faces were stern and firm as they calmly watched the scientists.

They had humanoid appearances, but their skin seemed to shimmer with a bright glow, as though energy flowed just beneath the surface. Their eyes all had a light blue glow.

As time passed, one of the scientists, a tall man with an unusually serious expression, approached the group of elders, clearing his throat nervously before speaking. "We're ready," he said.

The elders exchanged knowing glances before the one in the center, a man with a long silver beard who appeared to be the leader, gave a nod of approval. "Tell him that we will fire in 30 seconds."

The scientist nodded and picked up a small communication device from his belt, immediately relaying the information.

Several kilometers away from the tower, in the middle of the endless desert, a lone figure stood with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, both eyes closed.

He looked unbothered, as though he were simply waiting for a passing breeze. This figure was tall and lean, with a muscular build that was evident even under the loose black clothing he wore.

His skin shone faintly, much like the elders, but his glow was more profound, more intense, something difficult to fathom. His light blue eyes were fixed on the tower in the distance.

Valen Raxel. The Apex of the Transmutari race.

The communication device at his waist suddenly sounded, and a respectful voice came through: "In 30 seconds, Master Valen."

A smirk immediately appeared at the corner of Valen's lips as he focused his gaze on the distant tower. He could already feel the energy building there.

The seconds ticked by slowly, but with each passing moment, the air around him seemed to grow thicker.

Thirty seconds elapsed.

Instantaneously, a bright, blinding light ignited on the horizon.

The tower glowed with an intense light, and the ground beneath it trembled as an immense surge of power began to build.

From the sheer aura alone, it was clear that this was a power on the level of a grandmaster- rank. The energy output was overwhelming.

Valen's smirk widened as the blinding beam of energy shot toward him at an unimaginable speed, tearing through the desert air with earth shaking intensity.

The heat and force of the attack sent waves of distortion through the air, its sheer power enough to disintegrate anything in its path.

But Valen remained perfectly still.

As the massive beam of energy neared him, Valen casually removed one hand from his pocket and raised it toward the incoming attack.

The energy collided with an invisible barrier just inches from his outstretched palm, and for a moment, it looked as though the beam had hit an unbreakable wall.

Then, with a slow, controlled motion, the energy began to converge into his hand, spiraling and shrinking as it was absorbed. The once blinding light dimmed, the energy siphoned away into Valen's palm.

Seconds passed, and the once massive beam of destruction was suddenly gone. Valen closed his palm, snuffing out the last remnants of the light.

For a moment, the desert descended into an eerie silence, as though nothing had happened. Then, suddenly, Valen opened his palm once more.

In the center of his hand, a small orb of light hovered. The grandmaster- level attack, which had been powerful enough to decimate a city, had condensed into a tiny orb of light, now under his complete control.

With a silent exhale, Valen allowed the orb to sink into his chest, and in that instant, his entire aura exploded outward with unimaginable force.

A palpable blue energy surrounded his body, crackling and surging through him as if his very cells were exploding with power.

The ground beneath his feet cracked and imploded under the sheer force of his energy. His muscles rippled, his veins glowing with blue light as the energy coursed through him, enhancing his physical strength beyond comprehension. Valen's eyes shone with power as he clenched his fist, the air around him trembling in response.

He had converted the beam's energy into pure vitality, fueling his body and amplifying his strength to new heights.

The Transmutari.

The Transmutari were a race of unparalleled energy manipulators. They could convert any form of energy they encountered into anything they wanted, to serve their needs.

Heat, light, mana, even kinetic force—anything that was energy. Their bodies acted as conduits, capable of absorbing, transforming, and redirecting energy.

It made them extremely dangerous on any battlefield, as every attack thrown against them could be turned into a weapon of their own.

---

Atticus stared at Magnus without saying anything.

From his dumbfounded expression, it was clear that what he had just heard had been that shocking.

"Atticus," Magnus called out.

Atticus shook his head, regaining his focus. He gathered his thoughts.

"These are the superior races of Eldoralth?" he asked.

Magnus nodded. They were both inside the Ravenstein library, and Magnus had just finished showing and telling Atticus about the other races of Eldoralth. He hadn't gone into too much detail, only focusing on the superior races.

And it went without saying that Atticus wasn't taking it well.

After a few seconds of frantic thinking, Atticus could only manage one thing to say.

"What the hell…"

He just couldn't comprehend it.

How the hell was the human race still alive? How had they managed to get these monsters to sign an alliance-level mana contract? Why weren't they slaves?

Atticus couldn't help but recall the history he'd learned in the past—the human domain had been embroiled in a war with the other races? Could that even be called a war? They could only be getting exterminated!

The questions were numerous—too numerous.

Seeing the state of panic Atticus had entered, Magnus simply chuckled, an action he had been doing a lot lately since making that promise to Freya.

"The human domain, along with the other lower races, had to sacrifice a lot more than you think in order to join the alliance. While it's true that they were each overpowered compared to us, we have something they don't: numbers," Magnus explained.

"The population of each of these superior races isn't even one-sixth of ours. They might be stronger, but we overwhelm them with sheer numbers."

Atticus thought briefly before asking, "But we were still losing the war back then?"

Magnus nodded. "That's right. However, the attack of the Zorvans changed everything. With their small numbers, it was impossible for the superior races to withstand them alone, which is why this contract was established. Still, we had to sacrifice some things."

Atticus took a deep breath. 'This is a huge problem,' he thought.

He wasn't just worried about how powerful the other races were compared to humans. What truly worried him was something only he knew—the apexes were reincarnators!

'Damn,' he cursed inwardly.

If the other races were already this powerful, he could only imagine how much stronger a reincarnated person would be.

Atticus had never seen himself as particularly special. If he was this powerful at his age, why couldn't someone else be as well?

Magnus smiled at Atticus's worried expression. It was unusual to see him so troubled.

"I understand how you feel, but I wouldn't ask you to do this if I thought there was no way to succeed. Take a breath and clear your head."

Atticus did as he was told, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly.

"Good. Now listen carefully. There's no doubt about it—compared to humans, the other races are powerful," Magnus continued. "But despite how powerful they appear to be, each race has weaknesses, weaknesses that can be exploited depending on the situation and the person involved.

"You, Atticus, have the ability to exploit each of these weaknesses. I don't think you fully understand the extent of what you have. In the history of the human domain, we've lost many battles against the superior races, but we've won some too. Yet no human has ever had the same advantage you currently possess. You control eight elements—the forces that make up this world. In essence, you have the power to do anything."

Atticus's expression grew more serious as Magnus's tone shifted.

"Each of these superior races has vulnerabilities you can exploit because of the versatility of your power. What I want you to do now is simple: clear your mind of everything else and focus on this. I will ingrain every single one of these weaknesses into your very bones."

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