Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 895

Chapter 895 Shadow

Honestly, Atticus wanted to get involved with them. He had no idea how many nights he would spend in this trial, so to him, the best strategy was to figure them out on the first night and avoid them in the rest.

The silver glow of the moon bathed the hill, highlighting Atticus as he stared down at the mist.

His gaze narrowed as the rumbling of the ground intensified, his guard raised to the absolute peak.

'They're coming.'

He could feel their presence drawing closer, the atmosphere thickening with an oppressive weight.

'They're strong,' Atticus noted. Yet something felt off, it was difficult to get an accurate assessment of their power, as though the mist itself acted like a cloak.

The rumbling abruptly stopped. The mist parted in multiple spots at the base of the hill.

Atticus's gaze sharpened, his battle intent peaking.

He waited, ready to confront whatever had been chasing him. But nothing appeared in his vision.

Instead, a wave of bloodlust hit him like a tidal wave. And then…

Step. Step.

'What?' Atticus's eyes widened.

The sound was faint, very faint, but he could hear it. The unmistakable sound of multiple footsteps approaching. Yet, that wasn't what shocked him.

He could see the marks they left in the sand as they walked. He could hear the echo of their movements. But that was all.

The steps were numerous, overwhelming, but…

'They're invisible.'

The realization sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't see them. No eyes. No forms. Nothing.

The steps stopped.

An eerie silence fell, oppressive and suffocating, broken only by the faint whistle of the wind.

Then came the howls.

A cacophony of feral, sharp cries tore through the desert, vibrating through the very air. The footsteps pressed harder into the sand, the ground cracking under their weight.

And then, they lunged.

'They're fast!'

Atticus's mana surged violently, his instincts screaming at him to act. He reached out to form a weapon with his mana, but then he felt it.

Something was wrong.

The mana refused to respond.

"What…" he whispered, his cold gaze narrowing as another wave of footprints appeared in the sand, closer this time.

The invisible forms were more than halfway up the hill now, closing in at an alarming speed.

He had no elements. No spiritual energy. No weapons.

Yet Atticus's gaze only grew colder.

He entered a stance, his breathing slowing as he achieved a state of utter and complete focus.

His muscles coiled, mana surging through every fiber of his body, amplifying his strength and speed. His vision sharpened, the world around him slowing as his senses heightened to an extreme.

He could hear it, the faint rustle of sand disturbed by invisible paws. The subtle whistle of wind as their forms cut through the air. The primal energy radiating from them.

And then he saw it.

The air rippled faintly, parting slightly as the beasts moved. Though they were invisible, they still had form. Their presence disturbed the air around them, creating faint distortions that Atticus locked onto.

From the nature of the footprints, Atticus formed an accurate picture in his mind. Four footprints per beast. Wolf-like creatures.

A third set of footprints appeared in the sand, just meters away.