The Oracle Paths

1212  A Pitiful Centipede

The turkeyʼs scorn-drenched proclamation thundered through the stands, then rippled across the opposing army, leaving its countless soldiers speechless. The bird had clearly raised its voice on purpose.

Sadly, the first to feel the sting of that arrogance was the ”pathetic” centipede curled up in the center of the arena. Ever since its foe had transformed, ballooning to a humiliating size in comparison, the serpentine insect had been showing obvious signs of distress: Mandibles clacking in frantic spurts, a hunched posture, and shrill hissing intended to intimidate—though it came off more like quivering squeaks of fear.

The creature even attempted to rear up like a cobra trying to appear taller, but when it realized it still only reached the monstrous felineʼs knee, it shrank back defensively once more.

”This is… mortifying,” Lord Calyx spat, his face red with fury. From the moment these duels began, their performance had been a resounding fiasco for the Radiant Conclaveʼs reputation.

The other members kept quiet a moment longer, well aware of his temperament and unwilling to provoke him further. Yet each one was wrestling with their own thoughts, all of them shaken in different ways.

Lady Lyria was lost in contemplation, seeing the emergence of this unknown Titan centipede and colossal cat as a historic moment worthy of her archives.

Lady Faye, whose expertise lay in bioengineering and beast-taming, was more concerned about what strange chain of events might have led to the birth of such abominations. The cat—being one of those foreigners—was somewhat explainable, but this Titan centipede had materialized from nowhere. An insect that enormous would require a substantial habitat and an abundance of prey for it and its offspring. Such a creature shouldnʼt have been able to hide for so long.

”Unless…” The femme fatale cast a thoughtful glance at the gleaming white wooden armor she wore. Only that ancient, sentient tree—its true age unknown—couldʼve sustained such a massive burden without tipping any of them off.

”Eld, did you know about this?” she asked gravely, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Master Eldrion, who had been absorbed in a completely different line of thought, snapped back to reality and replied calmly,

”I did, but not for very long. I only found out a few months ago that Anthace harbored these creatures beneath its roots. Once open warfare officially broke out, I was informed about these ʼreserve forces.ʼ The Celestial should know about them as well…”

”Should?” a general echoed, raising an eyebrow, but nobody bothered acknowledging him.

The two Radiant Conclave women could sense something was off, but they also knew pressing the old man further would likely get them nowhere. They fell silent, turning their attention back to the duel that still hadnʼt truly begun.

As for Lord Calyx, he had already calmed down, his anger little more than a distant memory. So… the old man and I are on the same side… Or maybe heʼs just a pawn to be used and discarded once his purpose is served…

He was inclined to believe the second option, as the warrior-sage was universally recognized for his moral integrity and unshakable righteousness. No matter… The truth will come out soon enough.

”Is this duel even worth continuing?” Lady Faye changed the subject, seeing little chance of the centipedeʼs victory.

Maintaining a neutral expression, Master Eldrion reassured her, ”Victory or defeat isnʼt dictated by size alone. You should know that by now, shouldnʼt you?”

His barb drew an irritated growl from the auburn-haired beauty.

”Then, I guess Iʼll just have to stick around and watch how that centipede handles itself.”

Jake was an enigma, and by extension, so was his pet. That line of thought might sound simplistic, but for Faye, analyzing events from that angle was brilliantly efficient.

Just as the old man was about to show off his wit again, a shriek even sharper than the centipedeʼs prior attempts cut through the arena. The battle had finally started—and the first one to move was the centipede.

”It looks terrified…” Lady Faye muttered with a cynical edge, fully aware the old man could hear every word.

Master Eldrion pressed his lips together but kept his gaze pinned on the match, pupils dilated with concentration. Deep down, he was far more uneasy than he cared to admit.

Defying all expectations, the Titan centipede lashed out with lightning speed in spite of its massive size—its coiled body snapping forward like a powerful spring unleashing a colossal amount of pent-up energy. The kinetic force catapulted it from zero to several times the speed of sound in the blink of an eye.

Crunch—whether because he was too slow in this form or simply couldnʼt be bothered—remained utterly still. The centipedeʼs mandibles clamped down violently on one of his front paws, with the thick layer of fur serving as a natural shield.

SNAP!

To everyoneʼs surprise, the insectʼs mandibles were the first to crack, the compressed fur forming an impenetrable barrier between those razor-sharp appendages and the giant catʼs skin. The flood of yellow-green, hyper-acidic venom was useless, barely managing to make the fur smolder a little.

That said, seeing his sleek, jet-black fur lose even a fraction of its luster provoked one of the many personalities sharing control of Crunchʼs body. His slit pupils tightened further—if that was even possible—and the amber hue of his eyes took on a chilling gleam.

In the next heartbeat, the compressed fur on that paw bristled violently, each hair turning into a virtually indestructible steel spear able to punch straight through the toughest armor. The centipedeʼs mandibles, already weakened by the initial impact, were riddled with holes in a matter of seconds.

But Crunchʼs fury didnʼt end there. Having pierced the mandibles, the spiked fur kept growing exponentially, outstripping even the speed at which the centipede had struck moments earlier.

Whooosh!

One second later, the centipede—hundreds of meters long—was impaled from head to tail, skewered by countless hair-spears as thick as support beams. Its once-impressive obsidian-black exoskeleton might as well have been a hollow eggshell dashed against a rock.

Amazingly, the centipede didnʼt die instantly, even after its skull had been perforated. Insects were known for their resilience, and a Titan with a Life Core on par with a Saint from the Lustra Plains was on another level entirely—toughness beyond reason.

Mortally wounded, the monstrous arthropod abandoned any plan of escape and counterattacked with everything it had. A colossal discharge of electricity crackled through the arena, but that wasnʼt all: the gaps between its exoskeletal plates began spewing a toxic cloud of gas with reckless abandon.

The poisonous fog engulfed the mammoth cat in the blink of an eye—and much of the arena for good measure. Grimacing, Jake flicked his hand to keep the poison from reaching his troops, but the other side wasnʼt so fortunate.

”That… fucking worm!” Lord Calyx swore loudly as he beat a hasty retreat, leaving his vulnerable soldiers behind without a second thought.

Those at the front lines were already swallowed by the gas, and the initial rush of panic had devolved into screams of agony and sheer terror. Anyone unlucky enough to inhale even the tiniest amount—or who brushed against the gas—was already dissolving, their bodies turning into pools of blood, boiled flesh, and bone where the poison touched them.

”What a vile poison…” Lady Lyria exclaimed in disgust. A substance so vile ought not to exist. Even that terrifying cat shouldnʼt be able to withstand it.

Lady Faye seemed to agree—whatever mocking remark sheʼd been about to aim at the old man died in her throat. She, too, doubted the wretched feline could survive something that lethal.

Master Eldrionʼs grim expression finally relaxed, but the gut-wrenching screams of his men forced him to postpone any celebration. He brought his staff down on the ground once again, summoning a forest of roots that erupted from the earth, devouring the toxic fumes like a black hole. In a single heartbeat, the air was purified.

The soldiers who made it scrambled to their knees, praising their narrow escape. But some cast furious glares at the Radiant Conclave seating area—if he could cleanse the air so easily, why wait so long?

As if that werenʼt enough salt in the wound, when they thought theyʼd at least secured victory in this duel—albeit at the cost of some collateral damage—the toxic cloud inside the arena finally dispersed, revealing the scene within.

The enormous centipedeʼs mangled corpse lay motionless, ravaged beyond recognition, its once-piercing shrieks gone silent for good. The sight took the spectatorsʼ breath away, squeezing their chests with a sense of dread.

Then, the mountain-like figure of the colossal feline came into focus, emerging from the noxious haze... entirely unscathed.

Crunch had clinched the duel. And heʼd done it with ease—handily winning with a single swipe of his massive paw.