Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 734

Chapter 734 Lucendi | Requiem

The leader of the group clenched his fists. "We'll just attack them all. The real one will show himself soon enough."

With a collective nod, they unleashed a barrage of energy, sending beams of destructive force toward each of the illusions.

But before their attacks could land, the clones suddenly moved, leaping toward the men with inhuman speed. Chaos erupted. Trees were uprooted, the ground torn apart as fists collided with flesh.

Every strike from the illusions felt real, sending shockwaves through the grandmasters, who were caught completely off guard.

None of them noticed the real boy.

Sitting casually on a high branch, he watched the chaos unfold below, lazily chewing on an apple, his eyes half-closed in boredom. His legs swung idly over the edge of the branch as he let the clones do the dirty work.

Zarial Umbrin, Apex of the Lucendi.

"Boring," he murmured.

A soft rustling above him signaled the arrival of an old man, hovering just above the branch. He was the head of the Umbrin family.

"You've improved," the elder commented, watching the battle below with a faint smile.

Zarial didn't respond right away, still chewing his apple. His eyes remained on the struggle beneath them, where the grandmasters were futilely fighting illusions.

After a moment, he tossed the apple core to the ground, his lazy amusement fading.

"This is a waste of time," he said flatly. "The other Apexes won't fall for simple tricks like this."

The elder raised an eyebrow. "You're capable of fooling and fighting grandmaster ranks at your age. I doubt many of the other Apexes could match that."

Zarial finally turned to look at the elder, his eyes narrowing. "Then you know nothing."

The elder's expression tightened, but he held his tongue.

The Lucendi were a race built on deception. Masters of illusion, they thrived on manipulating perception—blurring the line between reality and imagination.

Their domain itself was a labyrinth of falsehoods, where even the ground beneath your feet could betray you. To survive as a Lucendi meant mastering illusion, controlling not just what others saw but what they believed to be true.

---

Two armies stood at the border of the Requiem domain, their battle lines drawn beneath a sky veiled by the eerie glow of spectral mist.

Each soldier's armor bore distinct sigils, representing their respective houses.

The tension between the two forces was palpable, like a tightly wound thread on the verge of snapping.

The Requiem, a race that wielded dominion over souls, had long been feared across the world for their unsettling abilities.

Their pale, translucent skin seemed to glow under the spectral light, and their eyes were as black as voids. The air around them was always heavy, thick with the silent wails of lost spirits.