Novel Full Chapter 1666 Fiend!
Chapter 1666 Fiend!
A bloodied Whisker was sprawled right before him, staring up at him with a grin.
“You look terrible,” Whisker said.
“You look worse.”
Whisker let out a low chuckle.
“Really? Is it the blood? Or the whole ‘gore everywhere’ aesthetic? It’s in fashion these days. Besides… I’m too handsome to look bad.”
Atticus gave the grinning man a flat look. Large patches of his body were missing, as though they had unraveled. Bluish blood seeped steadily from the torn flesh, enough to gather into a shallow pool beneath him.
The man had to be in excruciating pain, yet… he was grinning.
“…you’re crazy.”
“Haha… I know.”
Whisker chuckled again, then after a moment, his gaze sharpened slightly as he looked at Atticus.
“So? Talk to me. Do I need to worry about some oldie hijacking my star actor?”
Something heavy slammed into Atticus’ mind. He frowned faintly. From a brief scan, he had no doubt it was Solvath, especially with the constant booming voice echoing through his mind.
“YOU WILL SERVE!”
“YOU WILL SERVE!”
“YOU WILL SERV—!”
Atticus exerted pressure, and in an instant, the voice cut off.
‘Hmm…’
“…yeah, we’re good.”
“Whew…” Whisker sank further against the ground, releasing a slow breath. The tension in his eyes seemed to ease.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, my star actor… you’re a walking reality show.”
Atticus smiled faintly, but he said nothing. Instead, his gaze swept over the surroundings. Azeron, Thora, and Thomas lay sprawled several meters away, unmoving.
A violent purple beam that stabbed the heavens surged from him, pressing down on the world like a weight.
Even so, Atticus didn’t move to act. He turned inward instead, focusing on everything he was currently feeling.
‘Numb.’
To Solvath’s raging emotions, to the relentless assault on his mind, Atticus felt no real threat.
It was as though the overwhelming pressure of the primordial star had been dulled, reduced to nothing more than a faint, persistent itch.
Aside from that… the world felt different. Clearer. What he once couldn’t perceive, he now sensed with ease. The countless energies woven through the air, the countless wills layered across existence. It felt as though he had become… one with it all. As though he existed in quiet harmony with the world.
A moment later, Atticus exhaled.
‘Later.’
He would examine everything in detail later. First…
With a thought, he seized control of the pillar, snuffing it out as it dispersed into the air.
Then he raised his palm.
Whoosh.
A moment later, eight orbs formed above it. Four glowed with a greenish hue, while the other four shimmered in blue. With a subtle shift of intent, each pair drifted toward one another and fused, harmonizing into a set of darkened orbs.
Atticus watched the fusion for a brief moment, then gave a small nod. The next instant, the orbs shot towards Whisker, Thora, Azeron, and Thomas, before enveloping them in dark cocoons.
Barely a second passed before the cocoons burst into a brilliant light.
As the glow faded, Atticus’ gaze moved across them. Their wounds had vanished entirely, their bodies restored to a near flawless state.
As Whisker examined himself, flexing slightly, he smiled, then lifted his gaze and gave Atticus a curious look.
Ahead, the others began to stir.
“Urg… W-what… what is going on?” Thora groaned, shaking her head as she tried to clear the haze clouding her mind. The moment her gaze landed on Atticus, her eyes widened.
“You’re… you’re not… dead?”
Atticus raised an eyebrow.
“…I was never dead.”
“But—we thought—with Solvat—!” Her words froze as her expression shifted. She abruptly pushed herself up, scanning the surroundings in alarm. “Solvath! Where is he?”
“I defeated him.”
“…what?”
Thora froze, staring at Atticus in disbelief. She had felt it, the sheer weight of Solvath’s aura, the suffocating pressure of it. How could anyone possibly stand against that?
“Wait…” Her eyes narrowed. “How do we know you’re really Atticus? What if you’re Solvath, just… pretending to be him?”
“If I were Solvath… you’d be dead.”
“…”
Thora held his gaze for several seconds, then swallowed.
“…fair enough.”
Azeron, who had been silent the entire time, narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied Atticus.
“…you’ve changed.”
He could feel it clearly, a primal pressure radiating from the boy. It was as though Atticus stood above him, not as an equal, but as something greater.
‘He’s gotten even stronger.’
Azeron suppressed the grin threatening to form, shaking his head.
“You really won?”
“I did.”
Azeron gave a small nod, without the slightest hint of doubt. The answer alone would have been enough, but the Atticus presence made it undeniable.
If he had been anything but an ally, none of them would still be standing.
“…em…”
All eyes transformed toward Thomas, who had slowly raised his hand. The inscriber stiffened under their attention. He swallowed.
“…please… we have to get to Tia…”
…
A lot happened in the span of the next few seconds. First, at Thomas’ request, Atticus retrieved Tia from where he had hidden her. Then, he left the group and traversed the entirety of the Willguard domain, killing every Willguard he found still alive.
Even after the scale of their battle, the Willguard world remained vast, with several floating islands still intact.
However, as he neared one of the domain portals, he caught a figure dragging himself across the jagged ground, leaving a streak of gold in his wake.
Atticus appeared before the man, then frowned slightly.
“I-it’s you! H-how are you still alive!?”
The High Judicator stared up at him with wide, trembling eyes. Large patches of his body were torn open, blood seeping from them, while both his legs were broken and mangled beyond recognition.
“…”
Under Atticus’ silent gaze, the High Judicator’s expression twisted with fury.
“You fiend! Haven’t you taken enough lives? The billions who died today—this is your fault! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“….”
“Urk!”
The High Judicator gritted his teeth and shakily thrust his palm forward. Golden will gathered before it, churning fiercely before erupting toward Atticus in a concentrated beam.
“D-die, fiend.”
The beam halted mid-air.
“…what?”
In the next instant, the High Judicator felt his control snap. The raging beam collapsed, compressing rapidly until it became nothing more than a harmless orb, hovering above Atticus’ palm.
The aged man’s eyes widened slowly. He was currently weak, yes, but his will was not. The eruption of Solvath’s power had reduced him to this state, but even so, he was still a god of this world.
And yet… for Atticus to seize control of his will so effortlessly…
“You… you withstood the combined power of fifty-three fragments?”
“Yes.”
The High Judicator’s heart lurched.
“…how?”
“I just did.”
“Hah…” He stared at Atticus’ unmoved expression, as though trying to grasp the sheer absurdity of it.
“What are you?”
Atticus shifted his gaze from the golden orb and looked at him calmly.
“Your enemy.”
“Wh—”
The orb struck his head before he could finish, incinerating it in an instant.
Atticus watched the lifeless corpse for a brief moment, countless thoughts flickering through his mind.
Then he let them go.
As he turned to leave, a faint tug came from deep within his mind.
He frowned.
Reaching inward, he found Ozeroth and Noctis pressing against his consciousness.
‘Ah… I see.’
He had unknowingly severed their connection when he shut out Solvath earlier.
A moment later, as he loosened that block, two booming voices crashed into his mind.
“BOND!”
“KUU!”
“…I can hear you clearly.”
“Dada!”
“You can hear us clearly? REALLY? Then why the hell didn’t you answer earlier?”
Ozeroth huffed, muttering under his breath about how annoying Atticus was.
“Anyways, what happened to that old fool?”
“…I won.”
“Ah, see! I told you he wasn’t all that. If it had been the great Ozeroth, he would’ve crushed him instantly!”
“Ozzy!”
“Haha, see? Even the little guy knows.”
Atticus restrained himself from rolling his eyes.
“Alright, alright…” Ozeroth said after a moment, his tone shifting slightly.
“Now I guess all that’s left… is for you to come home and face your punishment.”
Atticus frowned.
Punishment?
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