Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground-Chapter 1075 Stop This

{A/N: Hey guys! For those who bought the earlier chapter, the content has been updated and would be the first chapter of today. Once again, I'm sorry for the mixup. Cheers! }

"What do you know about what Lucas used to trap us?" Atticus asked as he entered his training room.

Ozeorth grumbled immediately in his mind, "You're getting lazy, bond. Want everything handed to you like some pampered princess?"

Atticus rolled his eyes. "The princess thing is getting old, Ozzy."

"It is not! The only thing getting old here is that blasphemous name!"

"Ozzy can never get old. Trust me."

Ozeorth was on the verge of another outburst when Atticus cut him off, raising a hand in surrender.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop. For now. Just enlighten me, oh great Ozeorth."

Ozeorth paused, clearly enjoying the title, then cleared his throat with a hum. "Hmph. If only you were this respectful all the time…"

Atticus wisely stayed silent. Any comment would only spark another argument.

"It was a new form of energy," Ozeorth finally said. "Something I've never encountered before. But based on how he wielded it… I'd say it's tied to the life force of an individual."

"Life force?" Atticus asked, his brow narrowing.

"Yes," Ozeorth confirmed with a grave tone. "I think it's safe to call it that. Lucas used his life force."

Atticus hummed. "Still, how was it that powerful? If anything, his life force should've been weaker than mine, no?"

He wasn't boasting. It was simply fact. His power had eclipsed that of paragons. His lifespan had grown to a level none in Eldoralth should have ever achieved. By all logic, he should've been able to overpower Lucas.

"Normally, yes," Ozeorth said. "But the battle you fought wasn't life force against life force. He used his. You didn't."

Atticus's eyes widened slightly.

Life force was a power beyond mana and spiritual energy. He had tried to counter it with both and failed.

The next question came naturally.

"…Then how do I use it?"

But Ozeorth was silent.

"…Ozeorth?"

No answer.

Atticus sighed, "Oh great Ozeorth."

Still nothing.

His frown deepened.

Just as he was about to speak again, he heard a low mumble in the back of his mind.

He paused. "…What did you just say?"

"I said I don't know," Ozeorth grumbled, sounding like a sulking old man caught in his own pride.

Atticus blinked. Then slowly shook his head. "Of course."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Ozeorth snapped.

"Nothing."

But Ozeorth wasn't finished. "No, no, you definitely meant something! You always do that thing where you say 'nothing' but actually mean 'everything.' And I won't—"

Atticus completely tuned him out, walking deeper into the training room without acknowledging a single word more.

Ozeorth kept talking anyway.

He trained until evening, pushing his body through relentless drills and his mind through intense focus.

Night descended quickly.

When he finally stopped, sweat beading on his brow, he left the training room.

He had spent the past hours refining his control over the Dimensari powers he had recently obtained.

Two abilities still remained locked. But he'd deal with them later, there were more pressing matters at hand.

He returned to the mansion. Not to his quarters. But to the basement.

Atticus had only visited it a handful of times. One of those was when he got his katana.

Those visits were always for one reason: the Ravenstein vault.

But today was different.

Descending the long staircase, he passed the sealed vault entrance and walked further down the dimly lit corridor until he stopped in front of a large door.

He didn't knock. He simply blipped, disappearing and reappearing inside.

His expressionless face cracked at the sight he saw.

The sound of sizzling flesh filled the air.

The stench, which was a mixture of burning meat and blood, wreathed the room, making even Atticus's stomach twist.

And then came the heat.

It wasn't enough to affect someone of his caliber, but it was more than enough to hurt even Grandmaster+ ranks.

Yet the figure sitting at the center of it all endured it.

Avalon.

He was cross-legged in the middle of a pool of searing lava, surrounded by wild, untamed flames. His eyes were closed, but he was far from okay.

Sweat and blood drenched his body, trailing down charred skin and open burns that smoked and hissed with every second.

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His entire frame trembled violently. And even without looking into Avalon's emotions, Atticus could tell…

The pain he was enduring was immense.

Atticus frowned.

He stepped forward, and a wave of invisible force rippled outward from his body, swallowing the room in its reach.

The flames still burned.

The lava still boiled.

But under his command, the fire dared not radiate heat.

In the next instant, before Avalon could even react, he was enveloped in a cocoon of water. The burns across his body vanished instantly, the blood stopped flowing, and the tremors ceased.

"What are you doing, Dad?"

Atticus's voice was calm, but the anger beneath it was clear.

Who wouldn't be angry after seeing their father torturing himself?

Avalon's eyes snapped open, shocked at who he saw standing in front of him.

He hadn't even sensed Atticus's presence.

"Atticus… what are you doing here?"

But then it hit him, what he had been doing. What his son had just walked in on. His expression darkened.

"Att—"

"I don't think that should be the focus," Atticus cut in. "You were torturing yourself. Why?"

His bluntness made Avalon sigh.

Slowly, Avalon stood up, steam rising off his body as the last remnants of his pain evaporated.

"You wouldn't understand, son. It's… complicated."

"You feel inadequate because you can't help your only son," Atticus said without flinching.

Avalon's eyes widened slightly.

"I think I understand," Atticus continued. "And you're trying to get stronger. Honestly, there's nothing wrong with that. But…"

He took a step closer,

"…you weren't training. You were torturing yourself."

Avalon clenched his fists. "It wasn't torture—"

"It's torture," Atticus interrupted again.

Avalon's gaze flared, the heat in the room spiking again.

But Atticus didn't move. He stared straight into his father's eyes.

"There's no way to sugarcoat this. Don't lie to yourself."

Then, more quietly but just as serious, he added:

"Stop this. Or I'll tell Mom."