Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground-Chapter 638 Entering

Hours had passed since Atticus entered this new world, and he stood with a cold gaze atop a hill, staring down at the village below.

'What's my next course of action?'

During these hours, Atticus had been extracting information from the man he had captured earlier. It went without saying that it had been a valuable session, but at the same time, it had left Atticus feeling unsatisfied in the end.

The first question Atticus had asked was where he was.

The Abyssal Chasm felt like a world separate from the human domain, but this space felt the same. It felt like a world distinct from the Abyssal Chasm.

Atticus doubted the Obsidian Order had someone who could create worlds, and this fact was confirmed as the man explained.

They were currently inside an artifact, one that even paragons couldn't detect. It was a powerful artifact that enabled a world with its own ecosystem to be built within it.

Atticus went ahead and asked other questions about the situation. Although he was already certain, he confirmed that they were indeed the Obsidian Order and that it was this group that had attacked the Raven camp.

Atticus maintained a cool head when he found that out and continued asking his questions. What had they been up to for the past five years? What was the status of the village, like who was the most powerful and their numbers? What were their scouting capabilities and the ways to enter the village?

For the first question, the man had insisted that it was nothing, something Atticus found hard to believe.

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They had been hiding in the Abyssal Chasm for years now and hadn't attacked or done anything in the human domain. He had also claimed that he had no idea of their next plans, an answer that made Atticus inflict a world of pain on him. But eventually, he had to move past that.

The answer to the next question had left Atticus feeling a bit skeptical about entering the village. Just as he had expected, the leaders of the Obsidian Order in Sector 3 and Sector 4 were present, and both of them were at the grandmaster+ rank—a level Atticus doubted he could bridge as he currently was.

The number of people in the village numbered in the thousands, a stark contrast to their numbers before the war with the Ravensteins. They hadn't slacked off when it came to recruiting more people into their ranks.

There were far too many people unsatisfied with the way the tiered families ruled, so this much was expected, considering the utmost secrecy.

The next question had been about their scouting capabilities and ways to enter the village. Afterwards, Atticus asked the question he had been wanting to ask since he saw the trio: which family was supporting them from the outside…

This had been what left Atticus feeling dissatisfied because as soon as he asked that question, Atticus saw the man's gaze narrow and an insane amount of mana start gathering around his mana core.

Atticus had reacted instantly, focusing on the ice element and freezing the man. Afterwards, he had immediately killed him off. He was useless at that point. If Atticus unfroze him, aside from the nerve damage, he was due to explode.

As Atticus stared at the village, he replayed everything he knew about it.

'They're divided into three main forces: the scouts, the hunters, and the main fighting force,'

Although they numbered a thousand in the village, Atticus was only focused on the people who were at least master- rank. The others were only cannon fodder. Each of the forces he mentioned now had the most concentration of master ranks and basically their fighting force.

'I should handle these three before anything else. Does this world have nights?'

Atticus stared at the bright sun in the sky. The best time to infiltrate the village would be at night.

Although he had lots of camouflage abilities, attacking during the daytime carried huge risks. The human domain was filled with people of different bloodlines—who knew what might happen?

Atticus decided to wait and see if the sun would set. If it didn't, he would find another way.

Fortunately, after hours passed, the sun dipped below the horizon.

Atticus made his move.

The darkness element heeded his command and engulfed him as he shot down the hill, reaching the bottom in under a second.

'The first I have to handle are the scouts. They're at the top of the walls and roam around the village discreetly,' he thought.

Atticus hadn't been able to get an exact number on them, but there were about 50, and they were all trained assassins, so he resolved to be careful.

Reaching the tall walls, Atticus noticed some lights above. His gaze narrowed as he allowed himself to float upwards, silently reaching the top of the fence.

The dim light from a magical artifact barely illuminated the top of the wall, where ten men were huddled together around a small, makeshift table.

They were each members of the Obsidian Order—slender-looking veterans with intense gazes, men who had seen their share of battles. Yet tonight, they were indulging in a game of poker.

The air was filled with tension, but there was also a sense of boredom, as if they were weary of their current circumstances.

"Come on, boys, this is my lucky hand!" a tall man with a scar running down his cheek said, grinning as he laid down his cards.

The others immediately groaned in unison as he revealed a winning hand, scooping up the pile of coins and notes scattered across the table.

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"Again, Rorik? You always win!" another man, shorter with a bald head, complained, throwing his cards onto the table in frustration.

Rorik chuckled, his grin widening as he shoved the money into his pocket. "What can I say, luck's on my side tonight. Maybe next time you'll catch a break, Argus."

Argus glared at him but said nothing, simply crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. The others began to grumble, shuffling their cards for the next round.

A third man, who had a thick beard and a thin build, suddenly leaned forward, his eyes darting around nervously.

"Hey, you guys hear something?"

The group fell silent, ears straining to catch any noise in the night. They were all veteran assassins and knew to take any sign of unease with the utmost seriousness.