The Oracle Paths Chapter 1227: A Piece I Can Trust

Amid the arena's apocalyptic chaos, a young woman with disheveled pink hair trembled while gasping for air, drenched in sweat, her gaze distant and vacant. Technically, she'd emerged victorious by unleashing devastating magic... yet her state was scarcely improved over that of her defeated foe.

Indeed, unlike her rival, she retained her curvaceous form and a hint of allure—but she appeared perilously close to collapse. Had she merely been covered in blood, it might not have caused such alarm. However, ignoring the brain tissue visibly leaking from her ears—and whatever else might be seeping from her body elsewhere—was impossible.

The horrific display prompted several battle-hardened troops to retch immediately. The more squeamish dashed to the closest ditch to heave, accidentally 'christening' a barrier designed to block foe arrows—now soiled by their comrades instead. The metallic tang of burned skin and tainted blood blended with the dusty residue from the explosion area, searing into the senses of all close by like an inescapable hex.

Esya, utterly indifferent to the puking nearby, managed to stay upright—her jaw locked with such force it was astonishing her teeth remained intact. Even more remarkably: she teetered on the edge of awareness. Her form wavered in the shimmering heat like a flickering candle on the verge of extinguishing from the merest breeze.

The magnificent blaze that felled her adversary had faded away, leaving only a subtle ring of pale flames flickering with hints of green and gold—the Aethers of Constitution and Vitality straining to sustain her life. Truly, it was wondrous that she'd retained enough clarity for even the simplest recovery efforts. Her knees gave way a bit as she lurched ahead, each movement a bold challenge to natural limits.

The toll of her ultimate strike exceeded what any onlooker could fathom.

Nevertheless, it fell short. Absent their Faction Passive, she'd already perish. If they took no action, she'd succumb within the following minute or so. Every inhale came faint and strained, her lungs hissing like an exhausted bellows.

Jake nearly intervened when he spotted her extracting a tiny flask of silvery liquid. He identified it at once—Digestor Blood.

It wasn't long ago that he'd clashed with Sinewshades and Voidshifters inside the BX9684 Magnetic Resonator. That substance was unmistakable—dense with vitality and malice. It appeared to throb inside its vessel, as if possessing its own intent.

Will and his team had endured four years battling endless hordes of Space Digestors. The count of extraterrestrial vermin they'd slain likely reached hundreds of millions—perhaps billions. The volume of blood they'd gathered defied measurement. And each portion represented a gamble between redemption and ruin.

Jake now fully grasped the perils of Corruption and wouldn't risk consuming it without dire need. Yet, the surge it provided for recovery—particularly from an elite Digestor—was indisputable. And the blood in Esya's flask was evidently powerful.

But the moment she removed the stopper and lifted it to her mouth, his judgment shifted.

In contrast to the usual poisonous hostility emanating from raw Digestor Blood, this sample was remarkably clean. Evidently, the blood had undergone refinement—purified and enhanced with scarce materials to amplify benefits while sharply curbing drawbacks. Its aroma differed as well—not merely metallic and poisonous, but of hallowed soil, reminiscent of a sacred ceremony's aftermath.

It wasn't perfect, but the existence of such a technique showed that this planet's experts and Aetherists weren't entirely powerless against Corruption. Jake carefully probed the gleaming liquid with his mind... and found himself exhaling softly.

he mused, shaking his head in regret. Regardless of how advanced the arcane and alchemical treatments, the stain of Corruption persisted—like pests in a rundown dwelling. You might cleanse the area, but they inevitably returned.

Ultimately, Corruption couldn't be eradicated. Merely delayed. The troops at the vanguard ingested countless elixirs from this so-called 'purified' Digestor Blood, ensuring they'd eventually turn. It was merely a question of when.

After her injuries steadied, Esya stumbled zigzag toward the viewing area, then crumpled to the floor before Jake and the group, hidden from the audience's eyes.

Filled with shame, she raised her sight, seeking Jake's eyes—only to halt upon meeting them.

His sorrow or concern might have soothed her. But the regret carved into his features—and that expression of —wounded more profoundly than any weapon.

she reflected sourly, her complexion draining further.

Jake assisted her to her feet with impeccable courtesy, even infusing his own Aether to mend her remaining damage. But his gentleness, his worry—only intensified the inner torment.

At that instant, she failed to notice him clasping her hand... or the rapid mending of her injuries, even her spirit. His Aether resembled pure existence—potent enough to revive one from death's edge.

Yet not her broken ego.

'All set,' Jake announced, letting go of her hand with a neutral face. Xi, linked directly to his mind, felt her essence plummet. She couldn't conceal his feelings—and what she detected froze her.

The two females harbored parallel notions... though Xi's were far more dire.

[Avoid discarding our entire talk due to this outcome.] she cautioned gently, yet his reply crushed her.

[No commander thrives without mastering the smart use of their allies. And your comrades won't advance if you confine them in luxury. Haven't they endured well on their own? Have faith in them!]

For an instant, Jake's face contorted in fury—shattering the frosty facade at last.

'Past is past. Present is present,' he stated icily, causing his friends to recoil—Esya especially.

They quickly realized he addressed not them, but his Oracle AI. Still, all sensed the gravity of his statement. A chill coursed through them, innately fearing the choice he'd rendered.

'Henceforth, I'll dictate the rhythm.' Jake proclaimed, eyeing his companions individually before locking his starry, detached stare on Esya and her sibling. 'I understand. You sought to demonstrate your worth, and you've progressed greatly. I acknowledge that. You're no liability. I am. I'm a lousy leader. I'm unfit for command or directives. I attempted the tactical approach... and yes, I could prevail, provided I view you as expendable tokens on a game board.'

'A portion of me believed victory possible without losses. But this battle revealed the truth—I've deceived myself. There's just one token I rely on utterly. The sole one I'd offer up to complete the task. And that's myself.'

'…Are you claiming we're worthless?' Asfrid queried, tone laced with anxiety.

Jake pierced her with a piercing glance—but as he parted his lips to answer, Mani's uneasy clearing of throat disrupted the mood.

All heads swiveled to the K-pop resemblance figure, thrusting him into focus.

'What's the matter?' Will inquired with feigned friendliness, inwardly grateful for the timely interruption. This dialogue shouldn't escalate.

Regrettably, destiny intervened otherwise.

'Apologies, but following the previous bout…' Mani faltered, clearly conflicted.

'…Out with it.'

Urged by the other Myrtharian Nerds, Mani yielded and revealed:

'Post Esya's contest… my team refuses to battle.'

Will scowled. 'Not even Zelorian Quen or Kang Jun?'

'They fear exposing too much before the assembly,' Mani conceded, tousling his locks with an embarrassed chuckle. His gestures echoed Cho Min Ho's flawlessly.

'How absurd,' Enya scoffed, shooting lethal stares at the pair of Players. She and her sister had honed that glare—the sort that urged hiding away.

In reality, even those smug fools lacked assurance of triumph after witnessing her sibling's crushing defeat. Overconfident? Absolutely. Reckless? Not quite.

Will, Enya, and Asfrid seemed poised to berate Mani harshly, when Jake abruptly remarked:

'Ideal moment. With no one willing to compete, we can conclude this absurd event.'

'But—'

Before intervention, Jake disappeared. A mere notion sufficed—he materialized at the arena's heart.

The Lustra Plains' encampment, still shaken from their prior defeat, debated heatedly when they spied the solitary silhouette at the core.

Then quiet descended—sudden and total. A terrifying frost seized every being there.

A single man occupied the arena, yet the grave, overpowering presence he exuded evoked mortality personified. The Radiant Conclave's chiefs felt it likewise. And they dreaded the impending development even beyond their followers.

As anticipated, the declaration fell like an executioner's blade:

'From this point… I'm your foe. Every one of you. Advance.'