The Oracle Paths Chapter 1232: Who Really Holds the Roots

A few minutes prior, a different Jake—clearly uninterested—was soaring across the heavens toward Lustris. The glowing top of Anthace’s treetop served as a guiding light, a gigantic beacon dominating the unchallenged heart of the Lustra Plains.

This marked just his second time in the White City, but its look—and the majestic, peaceful vibe that had once enveloped it—had transformed so profoundly in mere days that, for an instant, he questioned if he had arrived at the incorrect location.

Even with his perfect recall, he needed to examine his environment repeatedly before acknowledging, with a tangled mix of feelings, that this was truly the intended spot.

Nyx, Eris, and the rest had already alerted him about the subterranean beings enhanced by Black Lumyst that had emerged unexpectedly. Nevertheless, encountering them firsthand was a whole different experience. Their foul, hideous energies radiated an insatiable craving—a relentless desire to consume and obliterate all in their way. The feeling was eerily recognizable... yet distinctly unique.

For one thing, he could verify this immediately: the entities flooding his view were not Digestors. In the midst of this doomsday scenario, that fact alone brought a strange sense of comfort.

"Guess I made it," Jake whispered to himself, as if he had just endured an interminable journey.

In reality, those "hundreds of millions of kilometers" boiled down to just a few effortless jumps through space. He had only flown the final few kilometers—when the city came into range for him to observe its demise directly.

He hadn’t even reached the city’s outer edge when a sly, aware smirk pulled at his mouth.

Jake scanned the region with a look that scarcely hid his disdain.

How could he overlook the King’s Idol Alliance, perfectly lined up and concealed right beyond the city walls? How could he miss the aura of the three Oracle Knights, positioned high on a massive limb at the summit of the Titan Tree Anthace?

They were all under the delusion of mastery—believing they had the chaos firmly in hand with unyielding control and an overblown ego. However—from his elevated spot—their petty plot was glaringly obvious, almost offensively so.

They imagined their animosity was concealed beneath veils of meticulous planning and intricate strategies. But Jake sensed their stares locked on him—ravenous, strained—like famished predators at last sighting the juicy prey they had dreamed of through the cold season.

Unfortunately for them. The prey they believed they were stalking possessed fangs—and a hunger for flesh.

Jake never once thought of revealing their hiding spots to provoke them. At present, those fools posed minimal threat to his goal—regardless of whether they struck or stayed back.

At least... for the moment.

The second his form crossed into Lustris’s limits, a dazzling white energy crashed against him, laden with crushing force that struck like a bolt from the blue.

He responded instinctively.

Just a sliver of his own energy escaped, but the dark blue shades of his Cosmic Lumyst exploded outward with superior deadliness. The very fabric of space strained as two unseen forces smashed together without a sound.

This was the confrontation that Cho Min Ho and his soldiers had observed in terror.

A man in his middle years, with a rugged countenance, clad in a simple gray robe, materialized in front of him—floating down from above as though he commanded the pull of the earth.

Right then, Jake and the Celestial locked eyes for the first time.

And with zero delay, they identified each other.

"The Celestial..."

"The outsider who slaughtered many of my Lifemancers and soldiers," the man answered steadily, "almost destroying the Life Lumyst system I built—forcing my direct involvement."

Jake flashed a broad, nearly feral smile.

His meddling had truly resulted in countless casualties among the Lustra Plains’ forces—and he harbored no hint of regret. If guilt could still touch him after five Ordeals, he would have ended himself ages ago, overwhelmed by its load.

If the Ordeals had wrought one permanent alteration, it was the way they compelled survivors to muddy—then wipe out—their inner lines between moral good and evil.

Before Jake could reply, the Celestial’s face grew thoughtful. His gray gaze wandered briefly, and he muttered—mostly to his own thoughts than to Jake,

"No... You resemble the Jake I heard about precisely. Yet, the energy I detect from you is... recognizable. Excessively so."

His eyes tightened.

"And based on the most recent updates from my forces, you ought to be somewhere else. In the main conflict zone."

A strained quiet hung between the two.

"So... where does reality stand?"

Jake had zero plans to address such inquiries.

His grin held firm. He simply lifted his shoulders, the nonchalance edging toward pure insolence.

"Does it really matter?"

He cocked his head a bit, a cold gleam sparking in his eyes.

"Be it the genuine Jake... or an utter impostor—answer me: does the Lumyst radiating from me seem counterfeit?"

A weighty hush ensued.

"In the end, that’s all that counts."

The Celestial stayed silent for an extended period, his expression utterly inscrutable. His stare remained fixed on Jake, as though wrestling to merge clashing realities. Then, following a gradual breath—an subtle inner adjustment— a shift occurred. The bewilderment dissolved, giving way to a clear, accepting tranquility.

He addressed him in a balanced voice.

"No... I think I now grasp your true nature."

His eyes squinted a touch.

"In a way, you are Jake. Maybe you really are him—and the Jake battling elsewhere is what I wrongly linked to you. This recognizable energy you possess... I recognize it completely now."

The absolute head of the Radiant Conclave and the Lustra Plains halted, considering the weight of his statement. Should his theory hold, it sparked endless fresh dilemmas. Oddly, it also bolstered his determination for the choice ahead.

"The item source of that energy," he went on somberly, "is something I have pursued for ages. In numerous respects, this absurd all-out war stems from that pursuit. And, paradoxically... that it wound up in your hands is the finest update I’ve received in years."

Jake’s taunting smile at last froze. This exchange was straying well beyond his expectations. Truth be told, he had braced for a classic fight.

Naturally, it required no brilliance to deduce what—or who—the Celestial meant.

Claire. The Chalice of Nethershade, or more accurately the Artifact Spirit from the primal Lumyst Chalice.

As though to validate his hunch, the man pressed on, a faint glimmer of thrill—optimism?—igniting in his eyes.

"Considering the essence of that energy... your arrival here... and the exact harmony I perceive from you..."

Finally, assurance filled his look.

"Then it’s certain. You have gained her backing."

Jake opted for quiet, denying him even a gesture of agreement. The elder clearly bore a substantial load of secrets.

"On that note, you’re correct," the Celestial acknowledged, dipping his head marginally—showing neither aggression nor deference. "Your strength is authentic. If you are the actual Jake... or wholly another is beside the point."

His stare intensified.

"That blue-black Lumyst of yours—I’ve never seen its like. It’s... intriguing. At first glance, the energy you release currently scarcely matches mine. It seems like level two, perhaps three. Yet, its thickness and potency surpass what any local of this realm could generate."

He stopped briefly.

"Though it overwhelms, it remains basic. As a Participant, you should face suppression from Twyluxia’s rules. Yet... you don’t."

He went on, his tone hushed.

"Other locals might overlook the World Spirit’s presence—but at my cultivation stage, how could I ignore such a being? The earth under me, the daylight sun, the nighttime moon—I always sense their scattered but watchful focus, like constant surveillance."

His face grew shadowed.

"But lately... those ’gazes’ disappeared. That vanishing was merely the most recent in a series of oddities, intel, irregularities, and findings across recent decades—incidents that drove me to probe the facts in secret."

At that instant, the Celestial’s glowing, life-brimming energy—still encircling Jake like a searing restraint—intensified, solidified. Not for assault, but to ward off eavesdroppers... to guarantee the upcoming words stayed private.

With a gravity Jake couldn’t easily dismiss, the Radiant Conclave’s chief—the mightiest fighter on the land—released a breath akin to release, as if unburdening a crushing weight.

"The past Celestials, including me... the entire Radiant Conclave—we’re mere symbols. Marionettes."

"As you and various other outsiders have already guessed, the true sovereign of this land—who dictates every move defining its destiny—is the Titan Tree, Anthace."

Rather than the astonishment he appeared to anticipate, Jake nonchalantly scratched his ear with a finger and grumbled,

"That’s it?"

Had the land not been ablaze from hordes of buried horrors surfacing, it might have stirred him. Regrettably, a quick psychic sweep of the terrain sufficed for any skilled Participant to see the tree’s roots functioning as a rapid transit grid.

Whether the Celestial acted as a tool, blameless, or potential partner held no sway. Ultimately, he remained the one who had elected to follow Anthace.

Fortuitously, the man possessed sufficient insight to know that disclosure alone fell short of securing Jake’s confidence. He drew a quick inhale, then continued with fresh gravity.

"I can assist you in rebuilding the Chalice of Lumyst."