ATTICUS’S ODYSSEY: REINCARNATED INTO A PLAYGROUND

Self-detonation.

In Eldoralth, this simply meant the irreversible collapse of one’s mana core, the singular nucleus that was the source of one’s power.

A mana core, much like a star, was a wellspring of mana, compressed into a stable state through years of refinement and tempering.

But when that stability was forcibly ruptured, either by will or overwhelming pressure, it unraveled all restraints, unleashing every particle of stored energy in a cataclysmic release.

For a Grandmaster, this was nothing but devastation.

Their mana core had enough power to level cities, melt armies, and turn the battlefield into ruin.

But a Paragon was something else entirely.

Paragons were not just powerhouses, they were living conduits of world essence, beings whose mana cores had transcended simple containment. A Paragon’s core was no longer an isolated vessel, it was tethered to the fabric of the world.

When a Paragon detonated, it wasn’t destruction, it was calamity.

And now, a calamity ensued.

Xal’zereth ignited in a shockwave of unbearable force that tore outward, its light swallowing everything.

A supernova of volatile mana expanded in every direction, faster than sound, faster than thought.

The dimensional world of the military camp began to crumble, chunks of space folding inward, disintegrating as pressure and chaos collided.

Islands cracked. Buildings splintered. Runes failed. Mana circuits burned out as the very laws of existence screamed in protest.

And as this occurred, Zenon’s heart stopped.

Even if it was only for a moment… it stopped.

His expression changed violently. His mind surged beyond anything it had ever processed before.

A thousand thoughts per breath. One thought above all screamed into his mind.

‘The recruits.’

His eyes snapped back to where the Apexes, the sergeants, the millions of recruits across the islands, were still and frozen, their expressions filled with disbelief.

They were going to die.

Not from enemy blades. Not from war.

But from a god detonating his body.

He had to act. Now.

His aura erupted like a dam breaking, crashing across the entire military sector in a heartbeat.

He spread it wide, encompassing the Apexes and recruits, whose expressions had turned to pure dread.

And then, he braced for impact, expecting the fiery doom to reach them. But instead, what he got…

Was a voice that did not belong to the explosion.

Silent, and yet it slipped through the blast like wind through flame.

“I am fire, water, earth, and air.”

Zenon’s eyes shot upward toward the skies, and there, he caught sight of the monster child… just before he dispersed.

His body scattered like stardust, dissolving into the atmosphere, formless and yet present everywhere.

And from that position, as if drawn by will alone, a dark crimson wave surged outward from the skies, spreading in every direction. It blanketed the military camp, forming a veil of dark crimson that encased the explosion itself.

As the blast slammed into the veil, the entire outer world shook.

“He’s protecting us.”

Zenon clenched his fist, eyes still locked skyward, watching the intense light pulsing and flashing behind the dark crimson veil.

Around him, dread was still on the recruits’ faces, their eyes wide and breaths shaky. Even the Apexes stood frozen, each one going through different thoughts.

“Atticus,” Aurora murmured, hands trembling against her bloody chest. She had gotten injured during the earlier battle, but her gaze was still glued to the unfolding scene above, as though nothing was more important.

That explosion had been cataclysmic, and he was containing the entire thing alone.

“Please be okay…” she whispered, hoped.

Beside her, Kael was now somehow standing. Both arms had been cut off from the earlier chaos but were already healing rapidly.

His berserk bloodline burned hot through his veins, accelerating his regeneration at an unnatural pace. But his fierce gaze remained in the skies, and if his fists were still intact, they would’ve been clenched hard.

And then there was Zoey. A vicious claw gash was on her chest from Drakthanion’s earlier strike, but her body was already healing. The vitality of spiritual energy wielders was unmatched. Still, her thoughts weren’t on herself.

‘Will he be okay?’ she asked internally, her concern directed to Lumindra.

“He will,” Lumindra answered without hesitation. “He made someone of that strength blow himself up. Do you even have any doubt?”

Those words eased Zoey’s heart, even if it was just a little. Because truly, she couldn’t imagine a world where he would lose.

Not far from them, the other Ravensteins had also somehow survived. They were battered but intact. Nate sat among them, hunched on the ground. He appeared detached from everything around him, and his gaze wasn’t even on the explosion.

He just stared blankly at nothing, lost.

But while most minds were still trying to grasp what had just happened, one mind refused to rest.

Plans upon plans. Scenarios upon scenarios. Calculations layered beneath calculations.

‘My dimensional abilities still aren’t responding.’

Carius’s thoughts raced. He remained trapped within the elemental cocoon Atticus had made, bound so tightly he couldn’t move a single limb, not even twitch a finger.

His powers weren’t responding. But his mind remained sharp. Calculating.

‘The battle’s coming to an end… He’s going to come for me.’

The mere fact that the battle had dragged on this long told him everything he needed to know. As impossible as it seemed, the Zorvan was probably losing. Which meant Atticus would soon turn his attention toward him.

Carius strained against the binding force, trying, urging his body to respond. His gaze flicked downward, toward the artifact strapped to his waist. But he couldn’t reach it. He couldn’t move no matter how much he tried.

However, as the seconds passed, his eyes sharpened, glinting with sudden intensity.

‘I’m starting to feel it…’

Excitement bled into his thoughts. He didn’t know what was happening outside, but something had changed. Atticus’s grip on him had faltered, even if just slightly. He still couldn’t move a muscle, but…

He could feel it.

He could move his mana.

And for Carius… that was all he needed.

His eyes gleamed, and if he could move his lips, a slow, dangerous smile would have curled its way onto his face.

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