Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 751

Chapter 751 Knew

Draktharion and Atticus continued their cataclysmic clashes, their forms blurring with speed, sparks and energy ripping through the air as claws met katana.

Every strike sounded like thunder, the scorching ground shattering beneath their feet, shockwaves splitting the skies.

The battlefield became a blur of red and blue, the heat of Draktharion's flames searing the very air, while Atticus's azure energy cut through it all like a blade of pure light.

At this point, it was becoming very clear to Draktharion, and to everyone watching, who had the upper hand.

Since the battle began, aside from their constant clashes and parries, Draktharion hadn't been able to land a single hit on Atticus. But the same couldn't be said for Draktharion himself.

A dragon's regenerative abilities were truly remarkable, Draktharion healing almost instantly after every wound. But there were some wounds that couldn't be healed so easily.

His pride had been damaged, no, completely shattered. He had been punched, kicked, and slammed into the ground more times than he cared to remember.

He had entered this competition with absolute confidence, with certainty that he would be the victor, that no matter the circumstances, no matter the challenge, he would still come out on top.

He had always loved challenges; they pushed him to become a better version of himself. But this… this was far from a challenge.

He had anticipated the superior race apexes would be the challenge he sought, but not one that he couldn't overcome.

However, as the fight continued, a feeling of doubt began settling deep within him—something he hadn't experienced in his entire life.

What if he couldn't overcome this challenge? What if he fell here?

As these thoughts streamed into his mind, something in Draktharion's memory began to shift. Sharp and painful memories surged through his consciousness…

---

A handsome man with two horns protruding from his head stood on a mountaintop, overlooking his vast empire filled with towering buildings.

Beneath him, entire cities of different races bowed in fear and reverence. His face was cold, his eyes molten like lava, as he addressed his subjects, his voice booming across the land.

"Let no one forget," he growled, "This world belongs to dragons. And under my rule, the weak will kneel or perish."

No one dared to raise their head—elves, dwarves, even humans—cowering in utter fear.

The dragon king, Draktharion.

His pride was unmatched. His power, unquestioned. In the entire world, no one dared to defy him.

He ruled with an iron fist, crushing any rebellion, annihilating clans, silencing any whisper of dissent. And yet, in those moments of dominance, he felt alive.

The world feared him—and he thrived on that fear.

But behind the iron, there was a softer side.

---

Away from the battlefield and throne, Draktharion was completely different.

He was not the ruthless king everyone feared. He was a husband and a father. After a long day, he would always return to his palace where his children—tiny dragonlings—ran to greet him, each one as excited as the last.

The only woman he had ever loved, the only woman who understood him and stood by him, would always greet him in a way no one else ever did.

She was his motivation. The reason he rose to power, the reason he kept pushing forward.

"You're back," she whispered, her hand resting on his chest.

"I am," he smiled, his expression softening completely. "It's your fault; I couldn't stay away too long."

In that moment, the weight of the world would always vanish.

He was just a man, trying to protect the people he loved. _{frёewebηovel.cѳm}

But life was full of the unexpected.

Among his closest aides, his generals—his companions, the people he trusted with his kingdom, his power.

They were the same people who fought beside him in countless battles during his ascent to the top, the ones who shared in his victories. The ones he trusted with his life.

He had always been more relaxed around them, letting his guard down because they were practically family.

Or so he believed.

The betrayal came swift and brutal.

It inflicted a wound that would never heal—not in this life, nor the next.

Draktharion remembered that moment. He had been laughing at the top of his lungs in the throne room, only for his joy to be suddenly cut short.

An intense explosion rocked the entire castle, the whole building trembling. His most trusted general—a man he called brother—appeared before him, wielding a blade glowing with immense power.

"Why?" Draktharion had whispered, an intense wave of sadness bubbling in his chest.

But there was no answer.