Atticus’s Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

Chapter 1584  Way Forward

Whisker’s words caused a subtle but unmistakable shift through the hall, many of the Eldorians who had been seated with confidence only moments ago now adjusting uncomfortably in their seats. Atticus didn’t need to think long to understand what was happening. He had seen through their ploy the moment the meeting began. Forming a council centered around him, around his authority, would keep all of them firmly involved in every major decision moving forward, and this gathering had been their desperate attempt to lay the foundation for it.

Though it wasn’t treason, nor was there any malice behind it, the mere thought of schemes forming within his own house left a bitter taste in his mouth. Such things never stayed harmless for long.

The air thickened as the temperature began to rise, and the hall fell into an uneasy stillness. One by one, the Eldorians lowered their gazes, avoiding his eyes as though instinct alone warned them against meeting his stare.

“Everyone except family and friends should leave.”

The Eldorians and resistance members exchanged surprised glances, but the hesitation didn’t last long. The heat continued to climb, and they moved quickly after that, filing out in tense silence until the hall was empty. Only Oberon remained, lingering by the entrance, clearly uncertain whether he was meant to follow.

“Sit down, Oberon.”

“Y-yes, Supreme Ruler…”

Oberon did as told, then Atticus turned toward Whisker, who wore a wide, unapologetic smile, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Tell me about the Span rules.”

Whisker’s expression transformed and he straightened.

“If I had to compare it to anything,” he said, “think of the Count layer rules from the Ascension Game.”

“Capturing territories,” Atticus replied immediately.

“Exactly. But this is… slightly different.” Whisker flicked his arm, and a large projection bloomed into existence above them. It was a vast, suspended image of an immense planet.

“Unlike the Verge, the Span isn’t a collection of isolated worlds. It’s a single, colossal world, formed from millions of worlds fused together. Every faction, every god, every civilization that reaches this stage exists somewhere on this planet.”

Atticus frowned slightly. That wasn’t how he’d imagined it at all. When he’d thought of the Span, he’d pictured something fractured, segmented, closer to the Verge. Whisker had always claimed his knowledge of the place was limited, that he’d merely passed through, which made this the first time Atticus was hearing anything this concrete.

“What separates these worlds,” Whisker continued, “are boundaries. That pathway we crossed to enter the abyss world, that was one. As for how ascension works here, it’s straightforward. You capture territories.”

He went on, outlining each rules. Every new entrant was granted a single month to settle in, after which the veil concealing the boundaries would lift, exposing whatever neighboring territories lay beyond and opening them to attack.

Despite being a single planet, the Span was governed by rigid hierarchies. Each territory bordered others positioned above, below, to the left, or to the right. To climb, one had to conquer every territory above them, step by step, until they reached the top of the Span itself.

Each captured territory granted them a single month of protection from any form of attack, a rule Atticus found notable, though what truly caught his attention was the emphasis Whisker placed on a particular resource within the Span.

Lifestones.

They were, as Whisker explained, essential to sustaining life itself.

 Upon ascension, every civilization was granted an initial supply that was barely enough to last two months at most. Without them, land would begin to decay, the air would grow thin and unbreathable, and water would rot. The Span did not tolerate stagnation, nor mercy.

It came as little surprise to Atticus that there was only one way to acquire more.

Territory capture.

By the time Whisker finished explaining, the hall had fallen into a heavy silence.

“Now that my star actor is awake,” Whisker said casually, breaking it, “I believe it’s time we discuss how we move forward from here.”

“What do you mean?” Anorah asked, a faint frown forming.

“I think it’s safe to say that just about every living thing in the Span is after us,” Whisker replied. “So how do we deal with that?”

“Same as always,” Anorah began. “We defend ourselves from—”

“Defend?” Whisker sliced in with a chuckle. “What are we? Goalkeepers?”

A brief pause followed.

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

Whisker’s gaze slid toward Atticus. “I think my star actor already knows.”

Atticus felt the weight of every eye in the room settle on him, and he frowned slightly.

Whisker’s smile turned sharp.

“I say we go after all of them.”

“I disagree.”

Anorah ascended from her seat immediately staring straight at Whisker. He met her stare without the slightest concern, his smile unchanged.

‘Have they had this argument before?’ Atticus wondered.

“The enemy’s numbers dwarf ours,” Anorah said. “Launching attacks like that would place an enormous burden on our people.”

“This world runs on survival of the fittest, Princess,” Whisker replied calmly. “I think the people are reasonable enough to understand what’s necessary.”

“…initiating attacks would plunge us into endless war,” she shot back. “Innocents would die.”

“I don’t need to explain our current crisis to you,” Whisker said. “The Willguard joined hands with that Abyss god, and if I’m right, nearly every territory around us is compromised. We don’t know what’s coming. So tell me, what do you think happens when the enemies come knocking?”

“We protect them—”

“Damn.” Whisker lifted a hand to shield his eyes. “Your righteousness is blinding, Princess. What’s next? You plan to sit the Willguard and the major factions down and ask them to repent for their sins?”

Anorah’s fists clenched.

“We’re not doing that.”

“Well then, thank the stars it’s not up to you to decide.”

“Or you.”

At once, they both turned toward Atticus.

“Atti…”

“Well?” Whisker said lightly. “My star actor? Try to ignore the little guy for now, at least until you decide.”

Atticus shot Whisker a glare, then let his gaze drift around the hall. The division was obvious. Some stood firmly with Whisker, others with Anorah, their expressions filled with uncertainty.

But his mind was already made up.

He met Anorah’s eyes, saw the quiet plea there, and exhaled slowly.

‘She’ll be mad at me for this.’

“Whisker is right,” Atticus said at last. “We can’t sit around waiting for our enemies to strike first. We move before they do.”

His voice hardened.

“We’ll go after all of them.”