The Oracle Paths Chapter 1223: When Legends Yield

The lingering quiet between the rival armies extended far beyond the enigmatic Light Warrior's exit from the arena, her footsteps dissolving like a phantom blending into the haze. Not surprisingly, the Dusken Throne's side suffered the greatest shock, yet even her fellow fighters remained rooted in place, too dazed to fully embrace their success, their triumphant shouts fading unspoken before they could escape.

In all seriousness, what in the world was that ridiculous might?! Both combatants had reached the pinnacle of Corebearer potential, but their true fighting abilities differed by realms—as though one commanded thunderbolts while the other swung a crude club.

Mani remained the most furious over the entire fiasco. He'd long reconciled with the notion of failing on this accursed day, but he never anticipated defeat in such a... manner.

That ancient Soulmancer possessed undeniable power. Even he had truly thought she had a genuine shot—at minimum, sufficient to endure should defeat come. Yet no, destiny hurled a monster of nature directly at them, akin to a rigged dice crashing into their faces.

"There's nothing for you to feel ashamed about. You didn't stand a chance," Jake uttered abruptly, his tone subdued and sharp, his gaze tightened into a somber glare. Even he hadn't foreseen a local unleashing such catastrophic might. "Nobody could've anticipated that."

Prior to the bout's commencement, the trio of sinister presences he'd detected had already unsettled him, dense and oppressive like unseen shackles. But the entities behind them... they surpassed anything he'd accounted for, even after inflating his estimates multiple times over.

Such power? It transcended mere impressiveness for locals—it was insane. Not the apex predators like Gerulf, Crunch, or Mufasa, but potent enough to instill terror in nearly everyone else beneath that tier.

Absent Twyluxia's looming threat, the majority of surviving Players in this Fifth Ordeal from Rank 11 and above could have contended evenly with that deceased old Soulmancer. Within the Myrtharian Nerds, that equated to the caliber of Kewanee or the departed goblin pair, Xort and Niss.

Yet even they didn't serve as flawless measures, given the Faction Passive infused Jake's allies with a portion of his bodily superiority. For rival groups? It would've turned into a utter rout, even against their vaunted Rank 12 talents.

The core problem lay not in her Lumyst Cultivation—it was her physique.

That gaunt-stared woman's form, her velocity resembling a murmur of doom, her resilience like timeless rock, her presence that smothered optimism, her indomitable will—every aspect elevated her beyond what native Corebearers ought to attain.

It nearly seemed as if... she were a Player. But such a thing couldn't be.

One fact stood firm: through Anthace's devious plots—and perhaps that Blade Spirit's interference—horrors like her had emerged. In essence, her lineage had severed ties with humankind, evolving into an alien entity.

"Who do we put forward next?" Will interrupted his musings, yanking Jake to the present like a sharp smack. The ex-merchant appeared less rattled than the Metamorph, though the heavy crease on his forehead revealed his displeasure.

The drawback of leading a group brimming with top talents? They struggled to adjust fluidly to abrupt, earth-shattering surprises.

From the latest tally, nearly every one of their Players had surpassed the Corebearer phase following last night's urgent training push. The handful of Myrmidian Corebearers involved in the prior group clash couldn't compete again, leaving him short on dependable choices.

Once Asfrid completed enhancing their Spirit Shells and reactivated communications, their efficient operation roared back to life. Those yet to immerse in the stream over recent evenings hurried to do so, and armed with Jake's guidance, elevating at least one Lumyst Core to Radiant Lord status proved effortless.

For indigenous folk, such advancement demanded exhaustive years, occasionally a full lifespan. For Players? It simply involved reallocating their existing power—and free from the constrained affinities locals faced.

Logically, it shouldn't have posed a problem. Ample skilled Corebearers lingered among the elite guards of the assorted Great Generals. Regrettably, with the Light Warrior's deadly capability now exposed, they had to overhaul their complete strategy.

Up to this point, Jake hadn't suffered a single loss in duels under his command. However, that flawless record now teetered on the brink.

"I'll take the next bout!" A youthful warrior abruptly advanced, resolve blazing in his words, capturing the focus of every Player and commander like a beacon in darkness.

Assessing him quickly, Jake identified him as Radahn's direct apprentice—a talented Vorzhul Rider, scarcely past adolescence. The Great General had refrained from openly aligning with Cho Min Ho or Jake, vowing allegiance solely to their nation and the rightful Soulmancer King. Thus, his proposal appeared neutral... and disastrously fatal.

The boy's courage deserved praise. But witnessing his chest swell with innocent assurance, most commanders winced with sympathy, averting their eyes uncomfortably as if unable to witness a disaster unfolding gradually. The fellow headed directly to his doom.

Certainly, several Corebearers on site shared his sentiment... but inwardly, they relished allowing this willing participant to shoulder the burden in their stead. No one wished to draw Jake's attention now and get conscripted into the fray.

His allies observed tensely, curious about Jake's judgment. Even Mani quietly prepared for whatever feat Jake would conjure from nothing this instance.

Yet without hesitation, Jake projected his voice and proclaimed,

"The Dusken Throne forfeits the next two duels."

His teammates flinched with sharp resentment at the decision, the acrimony carved into their clenched expressions... but they soon embraced it. That remained the Jake they recognized.

He'd amassed countless wonders, leading them to trust he could achieve the impossible—but instances like these delivered a stark, chilling jolt that he wasn't an all-powerful deity.

Not yet.

The remaining commanders held their silence, clenching their jaws, displeased at conceding, but vastly more grateful to avoid gambling with their existences.

Regarding Radahn, for the initial occasion, he regarded Jake with true curiosity, a spark of admiration piercing his stoic facade.

"I... I could've battled..." the young apprentice whispered, embarrassment heavy in his tone like thick molasses, sour and sluggish. Yet a stern cautionary look from his mentor silenced his objection.

Grasping the youth's emotions, Jake locked eyes with him and stated, tone unyielding as iron,

"I don't question that you'd have battled until the end. But a contest with a predetermined result serves no purpose. If you held even the remotest possibility of victory, I'd have permitted your attempt. But you don't."

The harsh ruling allowed no debate. The apprentice gave a rigid nod, choking down his ego. That explained why his mentor hadn't insisted—since he understood the truth.

Meanwhile, Cho Min Ho's duplicate seemed uneasy—albeit for other motives. His role centered on delaying Jake and his troops, anchoring them in place. Although Jake's concession averted further disgrace, it also accelerated events, complicating his objective.

Moving forward, aside from Jake's confrontation, only clashes between Radiant Lords and Saints persisted—eight bouts altogether. Owing to the three Corebearer concessions, the Radiant Conclave regained the upper hand: 6 victories to 5.

The victorious bellows echoing from the opposite side served as a savage nudge for any doubters. The atmosphere hummed with revitalized optimism—and threat.

*****

Within the Radiant Conclave's viewing area, quivering beneath their forces' booming acclamations, the vibe leaned more toward wariness than jubilation.

No one—not even Eldrion—had anticipated that woman Corebearer to wield such absurd dominance. It shattered their prior assumptions, undermining their convictions at the foundation.

Lady Faye and Lyria brimmed with inquiries, their forms rigid with irritation, but Eldrion and Calyx's impassive visages acted as barriers, blocking any explanations. It only intensified their mounting doubts.

Nevertheless, they had to acknowledge it—they'd reversed a dire scenario in an instant, seizing three vital triumphs. The tide had turned—and they recognized that momentum could clinch conflicts.

"Defying expectations, he conceded so firmly," Faye remarked, still dazed, a trace of annoyance eating at her.

Perhaps owing to her self-perceived shrewdness, she'd grown accustomed to Jake engineering wonders. Observing him falter provided a grounding dose of truth.

Yet they mustn't lower their defenses. The pivotal clashes loomed ahead.

Each Radiant Lord Jake deployed in the earlier team skirmish was a beast unto themselves. She wondered if Eldrion concealed even fiercer abominations—and that notion knotted her gut.

"He just committed his initial error," the elder suddenly laughed, theatrically raising his pale staff.

For the first time, his stoic demeanor fractured into something feral.

With a resonant crash, his staff's end struck the earth. The familiar spectacle recurred: three tendrils erupted from the surface, unfurling into blooms.

Moments afterward, two females and a male in gleaming white armor awoke—and the intense, choking aura emanating from them chilled the veins of anyone who dared lock eyes. It resembled gazing into the void—and discovering the void gazed in return.

In truth, Faye's implicit query received a response. Indeed—Master Eldrion could indeed call forth additional superhuman fighters.

And with that, the results of the impending duels no longer appeared inevitable. The forthcoming struggles would determine all.