The Oracle Paths Chapter 1226: Still the Same Girl

Esya, having barely escaped death by the slimmest margin, panted heavily, her breaths coming in short, irregular bursts. A sheer layer of sweat covered her features, and the garments under her armor stuck to her spine, drenched in sweat.

She had come perilously close... Only a mere instant of lapse in attention, and it would have been over for her.

The mere idea set off another flood from all her sweat pores, with beads cascading down relentlessly. Yet, what followed wasn't terror—it was humiliation. And rage. Her earlier brazen vow of assurance to Jake now seemed utterly ridiculous.

Her mouth twisted into a sour, mocking grin at herself, as a pang of hopelessness she believed vanquished long ago stabbed through her determination like a corroded blade.

Regrettably for her, her foe had zero plans to let her recover. Quite the opposite—spotting her momentary halt after evading, the stoic Light Warrior surged forward into yet another fierce barrage.

At their caliber, despite Twyluxia’s oppressive pull attempting to anchor them down, their actions appeared as instant shifts to ordinary eyes. Esya’s thoughts hadn’t even wrapped up sorting the embarrassment when the armored colossus was already at her rear, warhammer hoisted for yet another devastating blow to the cranium.

Remaining dazed, she automatically summoned a barrier of fire at her back and hurled herself clumsily sideways, steadying with one palm to deliver a frantic whirling kick aimed at the skull.

Or at least, that was the intention—had her adversary been of normal stature. As it was, her boot scarcely touched the middle of his arm.

However, right before collision, her limb blazed with scarlet fire, radiating with liquid-hot fervor. She channeled every bit of her strength into it—Force Aether, Agility Aether, Constitution Aether—everything.

BANG!

The thunderous detonation of blaze and concussion wave burst forth precisely as planned... but the gratifying snap of fractured bones failed to occur. At most, her foe’s limb shifted a bit from its path before the enormous warhammer slammed into the earth with earth-shaking might. That was the blast the audience caught—not her strike. Hers had sputtered out like a soaked sparkler.

"This fighter..." Jake murmured, shaking his head. "His fundamental attributes surpass Esya’s by far. I fear this bout won’t conclude favorably."

His tone was offhand—far too offhand. But solely Xi grasped the profound dread those words evoked in her. This confrontation... it was precisely what she least desired to witness turning out this way.

Nevertheless, Jake’s companions weren’t naive. The steadiness in his speech, the manner in which his gaze drifted as though discussing the climate... it unsettled them. Jake felt let down. More than that—he felt sorrowful.

"L-let’s hold off on surrendering hope," Will chimed in with contrived zeal. "The contest has only just kicked off, hasn’t it?"

"..." Enya, who ought to have been the initial voice defending her younger sibling, remained silent. Her balled-up hands and ashen complexion conveyed everything.

She understood perfectly the turmoil within Esya’s soul—particularly regarding Jake. This showdown represented her opportunity to demonstrate her transformation, to show she’d grown into a formidable figure, one Jake could depend upon.

And paradoxically... she had achieved that. She merely selected the most ill-suited rival to showcase it against.

Wishing for her sibling’s triumph—that was the sole action available to her at present.

Returning to the arena, the destruction persisted.

The Light Warrior’s hammer assaults poured down like celestial retribution, denying Esya any respite. The clash had scarcely commenced, yet the terrain already resembled a lunar wasteland, pocked and fractured.

Having evaded the initial pair of blows by a narrow margin, she at last regained her composure and mounted a decent resistance: fiery barriers, streams of flame employed for attack, shield, or thrust, concentrated thermal bursts, and even psychic strikes designed to disrupt his concentration.

All in vain.

The behemoth in ivory-bone timber plating stood like an unyielding bastion. He absorbed each onslaught without a wince. And whenever her blade or blaze managed to nick him, his Lumyst Core’s endless life force mended the injury immediately.

Even worse—this fellow battled like a true beast. Labeling him a seasoned campaigner was an understatement. He was a prodigious warrior, likely rivaling a top-tier martial expert even among Players.

Initially, Esya managed to evade. But that opportunity vanished swiftly. The hammer impacts, once mighty yet foreseeable, advanced—grew quicker, more erratic, more cunning.

To onlookers, it seemed phantom trails trailed each swing. Then, the atmosphere started to warp around his armament. Concussion waves clashed and fused in flight, then detonated belatedly... precisely where Esya had shifted to.

BOOM!

The hammer crashed into the soil fifteen meters to her right—she just about evaded once more—but prior to touching down, the ground under her exploded. Concussion forces zeroed in from all directions, ensnaring her in a mesh of inescapable doom.

Jolted by the raw horror, she bellowed in wrath.

"AAARRGH! I won’t damn well lose!"

The Lumyst Aura she’d been cultivating from the onset of this Ordeal at last erupted into being—and Jake and his group sensed it vividly:

Unlike his Fate Slayer Aura, this one focused not on retribution or fate. Esya battled not to reshape the world, but to affirm something personal. Each takedown, each success marked progress in validating her worth—that she wasn’t an imposter, that she fit here.

Jake estimated her Aura at level 2 or 3, matching his. But in raw potency? The divide was vast as seas. Their Soul Power, their Spirit Force—leagues apart.

Even so, though unsteady and fresh, it granted her a notable boost. Her disheveled pink locks rose as though gripped by an invisible gale. Then, thrusting her fists forward, she released a detonation of scarlet blaze from her center—more scorching, more savage than any prior outburst.

This round, she restrained nothing. If skill and precision couldn’t topple this scum, then raw might would suffice.

With Twyluxia’s restraints easing a touch, she could at last access her complete capabilities.

And it proved more than adequate.

Her pink pupils flared with scarlet fire. Spitting blood, Esya whispered to herself,

"...Not how I planned to triumph, but preferable to defeat. Apologies—but grant me this and perish already."

Whether he caught her words or not was irrelevant. She lifted her palms toward the titan still staggering from the prior blast, and sans any incantation or gesture, discharged it all: Aether, Mana, Lumyst.

By the third Ordeal, those possessing a Grade 6 Aether Core or superior could in theory unleash incantations rivaling minor atomic blasts. Deploying it outward was controlled, naturally—but originating from one’s frame? No limits applied.

As a fifth Ordeal Player with four years combating Digestors, Esya exceeded the requirements.

The inferno of Clan Velseyel featured two primary variants: red—raw conflagration; and white—a holy blaze for mending, safeguarding, and exorcising malice.

Yet a third existed. The pink variety—the hue of their lineage, their gazes and tresses—merged the pair. A blaze capable of mending or ravaging, that scorched not merely the corporeal, but the ethereal. The Oracle System named it:

Obviously, this was the aspect Esya selected for her initial Lumyst Cores.

Thus, when that searing pink inferno gushed from her palms amid two astonished forces—it was far too late.

From her slender grasp, a beam-like surge of pink blaze erupted, radiant and inconceivably luminous. In a flash, a glare seared the sight of all observers, temporarily blinding the vanguard.

As for the Light Warrior who’d ruled the skirmish—he was engulfed entirely. Form. Psyche. Essence. Obliterated.

The blaze persisted, barreling directly toward her faction’s sector.

Esya hadn’t targeted. Consumed by ire and mortification, she’d forfeited command. Her troops lay in the path.

Of course, the individual most prepared to neutralize her might was her elder sister.

Enya advanced resolutely, intercepting the beam directly.

Just as it seemed she’d suffer the same fiery demise, the pink blaze—relentless till then—abruptly twisted inward and got drawn into her grasp, absorbed back into her own Lumyst Core, matching Esya’s in nature.

The skirmish concluded.

Esya emerged victorious.

And for a brief instant, elation burst forth among the watchers.

Until they beheld her.

And comprehended that certain triumphs... taste profoundly like loss.