The Oracle Paths

Chapter 1221: Glorious Stupidity, Grim Consequences

”No shit, can someone explain what the fuck Jake’s doing here?”Cho Min Ho scowled, cursing Mani for swearing that the Jake in the middle of the central battlefield was the real deal.

And yet—there he was. As insane as it seemed, the guy lounging across from the supposedly invincible Celestial was a dead ringer for the leader of the Myrtharian Nerds.

The Celestial itself hovered a foot off the cracked flagstones: a tall, broad‑shouldered titan with sun‑browned skin stretched over granite muscle, slate‑gray eyes that looked carved from storm clouds, and a meticulously groomed beard dusted with premature silver. He wore no regal armor—just a sleeveless, earthen‑tone mantle belted at the waist—but ripples of elemental power rolled off him like heatwaves over desert stone, fine motes of grit orbiting his forearms with every measured breath.

The crushing aura rolling off Jake was just as undeniable; no knockoff could fake pressure that heavy.

A midnight‑blue cosmic Lumyst bled from him, flooding half the burning capital with flickering sapphire highlights. Any flames that brushed that energy were yanked inward and snuffed out, while spawn wielding black Lumyst were devoured on contact, their exoskeleton imploding like vacuum‑sealed bags popped from the inside. The stench—burnt cinnamon and ozone—hit Cho Min Ho’s sinuses like a punch.

”Does he have a shapeshifter in his crew, too?” the head of King’s Idol Alliance muttered. They’d done their homework on the dangerous Nerds and remembered the faction boasting a few morphers.

None of them, though, came anywhere close to this ”Jake”...or to him. Mani could mimic his face, sure, but forging an aura this dense was a different league. If Mani tried a stunt like that, his cells would have been wrung dry of every drop of Aether in less than a heartbeat.

Unless it’s an artefact? Cho Min Ho toyed with the idea, then binned it. Too reckless a bluff.

Mimicking aura didn’t mean matching combat stats. Against a Celestial, one slip meant a body bag. Cho’s jaw ticked—old idol‑school tell—while a thousand branching contingencies bloomed behind his eyes only to be pruned in the next heartbeat.

Maybe a faction skill? The options were running him ragged.

Their original play had been the classic mantis‑and‑oriole strat—the Myrtharian Nerds as the hungry mantis, his alliance the unseen oriole swooping in to snatch the prize.

They’d mapped out every likely scenario, including Jake showing up, but none where he beat them to the site without tripping a single spy.

Did he teleport?

The Korean’s gut screamed yes, then balked: that was a long haul.
Despite the hype, long‑range teleporting was anything but subtle. The farther the jump, the louder the spatial recoil—the kind of ripple his intel net never missed.

Worse, the price tag was obscene. Firing up Space‑Link earlier had nearly bankrupted Mani, and the guy was one of King’s Idol Alliance’s deepest pockets.

But if it’s Jake, he can eat that cost... The thought darkened his face. Which leaves the real question—who’s legit? This guy in front of us, or—

Resolute, and ignoring the black‑Lumyst mutants creeping nearer, Cho Min Ho was about to ping the shapeshifter directly when Harrkesh opened a comm channel.

”Harrkesh, you’re calling early. Everything’s on sche—What?! Dusken’s under attack too?!”

Seconds later the call cut, and the idol’s flawless expression cracked with pitch‑black stress lines.

”This feels bad. Real bad...”

He’d just needed a little more time to spin the perfect web and bring the continent under his banner, but the end‑boss of this Ordeal clearly had enough brains—and moles on the ground—to smash that dream to pieces.

”Boss, who’re we hitting then? Jake, Lustris, or these...things?” one Player growled, stroking his halberd. Most of them didn’t care who bled, as long as someone did.

Cho Min Ho stayed silent, tuning out the distant screams echoing from the slaughter a few klicks away. Then, jaw set, he reopened the line to Mani.

*****

The first of the three Corebearer duels was about to launch when Cho Min Ho’s look‑alike suddenly went rigid, face scrunching up like he was trying to pass a brick. Jake’s eyebrow—along with everyone else’s—shot north.

”B‑Boss, what d‑do you need?” Mani stammered in his headspace, sweat beading on the impostor’s brow. If the boss asked him to bankroll another Space‑Link jump, he might literally get erased.

”I‑I swear I’ll do my b—”

”New plan.” Cho cut him off, then dumped everything Harrkesh had just reported.

Now it was the shapeshifter’s turn to lose his fragile cool.”W‑WHAT?!”

That strangled shriek finally drew Jake’s genuine attention—but before anyone could grill the fake Min Ho, an avalanche of system pings lit up their bracelets.

Will flicked through the alerts, expression unreadable.”Dusken and Lustris just got hit—and not just them. Every fortress and major city on the map is swarming with those black‑Lumyst freaks.”

He sounded weirdly calm, like he’d already gamed out this exact disaster.

Jake exhaled, shoulders rolling, a low predatory hiss escaping his throat while neon‑bright threat nodes unfolded behind his eyes like a kill‑list HUD.

’Gerulf and the other Kintharians in position?’ He inquired telepathically.

’Already moving. Rogen’s Throsgenians are at their post, too.’ Asfrid confirmed with a heavy nod.

Even with all their prep, the number of monsters breaching the surface was nuts.

Jake cracked his knuckles. ”Then let’s wish ’em luck. They struck first—no reason for us to keep the kid gloves on.”

*****

Hundreds of kilometers beneath Twyluxia, spread clear across the continent, more than five hundred bronze‑skinned hulks with intimidating silver manes knelt motionless, eyes shut as if hibernating. The biggest—and by far the most feared— suddenly snapped his eyes open.

They instantly flared like twin furnace doors.

”Right on schedule. Kill ’em all,” Gerulf rumbled.

The faint tremors pulsing through the bedrock exploded into full‑blown quakes. Bestial clicks and metal‑on‑bone shrieks multiplied, closing fast. The moment every Kintharian’s ears picked them up, they moved.

Ghost‑fast, each titan phased straight into solid stone, slipping through like it was mist. Down here, nothing outran a Kintharian—perfect subterranean apex predators.

The next second, they hit the oncoming spawn like meteor strikes. Shockwaves turned quartz seams to glowing dust and sculpted hollows of glass that collapsed into hissing steam.

BOOOOM!

Black Lumyst met blazing orange, unleashing seismic shockwaves that shredded the crust in a heartbeat. Twyluxia’s abyss morphed into an endless lava sea.

Anything caught in that molten flood flash‑vaporized. The few monsters that punched through crawled out half‑melted and easy pickings.

Within minutes the once‑endless tide pouring into both capitals—and every other stronghold—thinned to a trickle, letting the defenders upstairs finally breathe.

On the surface, every squad felt the shift. At Dusken, Kaelum’s and Harrkesh’s forces, who’d been on the verge of diving in, pumped the brakes again.

”Let’s watch a bit longer...”

Of course, it was only a deceptive lull. The stream of monsters reaching the surface had thinned, but it was still overwhelming—more than enough to drown the continent’s inhabitants through sheer volume alone.

The battle for the continent’s survival was far from over. It had only just begun.

*****

Assigned to a secondary mission, Rogen and the other Throsgenians camped deep beneath Lustris found themselves in a far less comfortable position.

The mountain of a man grumbled, crystalline breath flash‑freezing the rock so hard it rang like tempered steel.

”Hmmff! Gerulf is useless. Me better.”

Their job: reinforce the bedrock under every fortress, seal ambush tunnels, and mop up whatever slipped past Gerulf and the other Kintharians. Easy, on paper.

Unfortunately, that logic held true everywhere—except in Lustris, where Rogen and his best men had been stationed.

Anthace’s sprawling root network was a nightmare. They’d dug stupidly deep to dodge its influence and still hadn’t hit bottom. At this pace they’d smack that ”membrane” Nyx and Eris warned about.

Roots branched everywhere, making stealth travel a joke and wide‑area freeze spells almost impossible.

One not‑so‑bright Throsgenian tried to lighten the mood.”Look on the bright side—no monsters in sight, no sweat.”

Rogen’s squad brightened immediately. Mission accomplished with minimal effort? Perfect for a people who considered napping a sacred art.

If only they’d bothered to tunnel a few hundred kilometers deeper, sever a root, or, hell, just pop back up topside—they’d notice the monsters they were supposed to stop had already slipped through.

Irony, however, is a cruel mistress. Their laziness was about to shove Cho Min Ho’s ambush force onto the field way ahead of schedule, detonating his whole strategy.

Praise be to their glorious stupidity.