Atticus’s Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

Chapter 1505: Ascend

The viscount layer was large. It was only when he decided to scour the entire layer that Atticus realized this.

Now he could understand why it took the Redflame army and Merek so long to arrive.

Atticus had spent hours traversing across the layer. Though he admitted that carrying Anorah and the others along had slowed him down a bit, even if it was just a fraction. As it turned out, the Redflame members hadn’t been completely wiped out. Gods and champions alike.

Across each territory they visited, it became the norm to meet a small group of Redflames.

While Ozerra had taken the viscounts to prove her superiority and raise her will rank, Atticus viewed this as an opportunity he had no intention of wasting.

The war with the Redflames had pushed Anorah and some of the surviving council members to the peak of the viscount rank.

But Atticus wasn’t focused on them. Magnus was all that filled his head. Gods weren’t the only ones who could absorb wills to power up. Champions were also granted such privileges.

With Ozeroth, Whisker and Noctis present, Atticus was able to make his goal a reality. Every champion they met, either one of them would attack the champion, leaving them at near death, and Magnus would finish them and absorb their wills.

Though Magnus hated the idea of being spoonfed, Atticus had convinced him with cold, hard truth. And it was very effective.

With every will Magnus absorbed, Atticus noticed a significant change in the old man’s power and presence. Even the thickness and stability of his will increased.

As the hours passed, and when Atticus took over the last territory in the viscount layer, he fixed his eyes on Magnus.

“Show me your will, Grandpa.”

Magnus nodded, closing his eyes to focus. A blazing crimson will burst to life around him, raising the temperature.

Atticus glanced at Whisker beside him, who nodded.

“He’s advanced to the Bulwark rank in sturdiness,” he said with intrigue.

’The Bulwark…’

The ranks of non gods were as follows; Flicker. Tempered. Forged. Bulwark. Bastion. Dread ore. Titan heart. Eternal core.

Atticus remembered Whisker’s words during their ascension to the middle planes. The Bulwark rank was the bare minimum needed to withstand the effects of the plane will.

The implications were clear, Magnus could go off world now!

“How do you feel?” Atticus asked with a smile.

Magnus was silent for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fist.

“Different.”

’Of course you feel different!’

Atticus shook his head. “I mean powerwise. Think about your earlier fights. Could you beat those same opponents now?”

Magnus’ eyes glowed red, his presence heavy.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“That’s all good and all,” Whisker said, voice suddenly firm, “but you still have to be careful. Champions under counts aren’t pushovers. They’ll be leagues above the ones you fought before.”

As Magnus nodded, Atticus turned to the sky, where a streak of golden light approached. He smiled as Anorah landed in front of him.

“All done?”

Anorah nodded silently, letting out a small sigh.

“I’m sure they’re all going to be fine,” Atticus said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Look at it from this angle, things are only going to get more dangerous as we ascend. They’re safer here than if they follow us.”

“I know, but…” Anorah clenched her fist. “It still feels like I’m abandoning them.”

Atticus stared at her for a moment. He understood exactly what she was feeling. To ascend to the count layer, one had to reach the peak of viscount, but most of the surviving resistance gods hadn’t.

They physically couldn’t follow them.

The viscount layer had already been swept clean of any real opposition. Their only hope of advancing would be newly ascending gods coming up from the baron layer.

Atticus didn’t have the luxury of waiting, especially not with a bounty on his head and a war with the Redflames looming.

’I have to grow as powerful as I can before the Ascension Games end.’

He couldn’t imagine how relentless the Redflames would be once he left. He needed strength, and there was no better place to get it than the Games.

The resistance wanted to wait until all their gods reached the required rank before ascending. Atticus didn’t have that time.

And that was the problem, Anorah didn’t want him to go without her, leaving her torn between the resistance and following him.

Atticus hated seeing her like that, so he offered a solution: they should ascend now and establish a base in the count layer for the others when they eventually arrived.

The solution was ingenious, and it had worked, but Anorah couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a convenient answer fueled by her own selfish longing to stay by his side.

Now, everything was settled. She had said her goodbyes. Her champions and council members at the peak viscount rank stood behind her.

Atticus recognized one of them; the large man who had attacked him during the council meeting, Noram. The man quickly averted his gaze, trying to look as small as possible.

The two would accompany them to the count layer as support while the others remain to rank up.

“You’re not abandoning them,” Atticus said softly. “We’re just clearing the path ahead. It’s better this way.”

Anorah exhaled, then silently nodded.

Atticus glanced around. Whisker was instructing Magnus, while Ozeroth and Ozerra were already bickering again, with Kiara watching them from the side in clear worry.

“Alright,” Atticus said, raising his voice just enough to cut through the noise. Everyone looked over. “It’s time to ascend.”

Expressions shifted instantly. Many turned serious and focused… except for two.

“Finally!” Ozeroth flexed, grinning wide. “Now I can show this peanut what true greatness looks like.”

“Peanut?” Ozerra snapped her head toward him. “Who are you calling peanut, you overgrown broom handle?! The only greatness happening today is mine!”

“The only thing great about you is your tiny height,” Ozeroth fired back without hesitation.

Ozerra gasped. “And the only thing great about you is that ridiculous mustache glued to your face!”

Ozeroth’s grin widened. “So you do think my mustache is great.”

“I never said that!” Ozerra shrieked. “It’s ridiculous!”

The rest of the group stared at them like they were witnessing two toddlers arguing over a toy. Atticus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“We’re ascending. Now.”

With a slight focus, warmth spread across his body, and a blinding light swallowed his vision.