The Oracle Paths

Chapter 1244: A Hero’s Burden

Jake should have been pleased with himself for severely wounding the Titan Tree. The consequences of his actions were the exact opposite.

With the cold composure of a predator—or an assassin—poised to strike again, his expression had darkened considerably, his complexion turning deathly pale with fury and self-directed remorse.

He blamed himself for not anticipating the possibility that injuring Anthace’s avatar would trigger a howl of agony with such catastrophic repercussions.

“It’s my fault…” he muttered under his breath, his face twisted by a rare flicker of guilt.

[…I doubt you could have predicted something like that.] Xi tried to soften the blow with a gentle tone, though she herself wasn’t entirely convinced there had been nothing they could have done differently.

Jake’s mindset—his very personality—had evolved tremendously since his initiation into the Oracle System back on Earth. And not necessarily for the better. How could he fail to notice the dangerous slope his psyche had been slowly sliding down?

Not so long ago, the mere sight of an innocent dying before his eyes would have made him sick to his stomach. Now, he was almost indifferent when his indirect actions caused large numbers of collateral deaths and devastation across vast areas.

It was the tragic flip side of possessing such a powerful analytical mind. Jake could rationalize, contextualize, and justify every one of his actions without his psyche truly suffering from it—as long as he had a valid excuse, a legitimate reason.

Take the moment he retaliated against Valandar’s attack. The fate of the ordinary civilians within several kilometers had already been sealed. Could he have neutralized the shockwave from that first strike? Not impossible.

But the ones that followed? The attacks from the resurrected hordes that descended on him?

His brain could predict outcomes like that instantly.

To save them all, Jake would have needed the ability to selectively exterminate every single enemy simultaneously—regardless of their strength—while perfectly containing the destructive force required for each kill strictly to its intended target.

In his mind, that kind of power still belonged to fiction, reserved for gods and superheroes.

[Not really,] Xi corrected him in her usual professorial tone. [Your cognitive capabilities surpass those of a supercomputer. Controlling your strength with that level of precision is well within your abilities. You just did it a moment ago when you saved your cousins, Aisling, and the others.]

“The non-combat personnel were already dead.” Jake shook his head, continuing to fly forward without ever taking his eyes off Anthace’s crumpled avatar, which hadn’t moved since unleashing its world-shattering scream.

If he wanted to, he could teleport there in a single jump using his Aetherdream Traveler talent.

With his growing power—and Twyluxia weakening—he was gradually regaining access to his Aetherdream Inceptor abilities. He could still only reach its outer layers, but that was already enough to perform long-distance spatial jumps.

Before his eyes, overlapping reality itself, danced a myriad of infinitely complex Aether Runes and Symbols, their quantum entanglement becoming impossibly difficult to interpret due to the unpredictable enchanting effects of the ambient Lumyst.

The moment he tried, a violent migraine struck him—as if his brain were on the verge of crashing.

Returning to his exchange with Xi, Jake continued in a somber voice,

“Only a handful of elites were still fighting in that mountain range, natives included. Even attacking cautiously, the only people whose safety I could absolutely guarantee were our companions. You didn’t say it, but I know that after every large-scale purge following my path, quite a few unlucky souls still died because of my attacks.

“Whether they were too weak, too close to the enemy, or simply in the wrong place at the wrong time—it’s still my fault. Not that I believe the entire responsibility lies with me. The real blame falls on those who throw us into these genocidal Ordeals… and on the twisted scenarios and stakes they force us into. And of course, those verminous Digestors.

“In the end, everything traces back to those hateful aliens.”

Xi didn’t know what to say anymore.

Only the thunderous shockwaves produced by Jake’s insane flight speed broke the silence, the desperate battles raging on the ground far below too distant to affect them.

Still, whenever he could, Jake ended them. During his flight, he annihilated a pharaonic number of spawn and resurrected warriors.

While his relentless intervention slaughtered enemies and saved countless lives, his conversation with his Oracle AI had reached a dead end, an unspoken tension lingering between them that went far beyond this discussion.

What neither of them dared to mention was that it was entirely possible many Players would eventually blame Jake for triggering the apocalypse—his overwhelming actions and unchecked power having shattered the delicate balance of the Ordeal.

Without his presence, Anthace and the Blade Spirit’s schemes might have surfaced later.

Some might even come to see him as the true villain of this Ordeal.

How many comrades, how many friends would the survivors—if any remained—have lost, directly or indirectly, because of his decisions? Eventually, their resentment would need a target.

Jake made the perfect scapegoat.

Blaming someone else was always easier than confronting one’s own weakness.

And yet, in his eyes—and perhaps the future would prove him wrong—he had never truly had a choice. If he hadn’t forced events forward, the Players from his Mirror Universe would have ended up exterminated or trapped in an even worse situation.

Without an Oracle Hacker, if Jake hadn’t made waves, they would have had no chance.

Aside from him, Cho Min Ho was the only revealed Oracle Knight in their camp, and the man was more of a puppet master pulling strings from the shadows. Whatever repulsive strategy he had been orchestrating would have unfolded over a long period of time.

As for Anthace and the Blade Spirit, those two final bosses possessed insane power and intelligence, their influence and longevity stretching across thousands of years.

The more time individuals like that were given, the less control anyone had over the future.

And finally, there was the fate of Lucia, Ulfar, and the other corrupted Players.

The Oracles had literally sacrificed them to hold the monsters back beyond the membrane. In other words, letting the Ordeal unfold naturally meant leaving them there to fight until death.

For Jake, that was simply unacceptable.

Thinking about Lucia’s despair—facing her irreversible corruption and her string of defeats—a violent knot of anxiety twisted in Jake’s stomach. Through the message Ulfar had passed to Nyx and Eris, he knew they were still alive, but with all those monsters erupting from the depths since then, he had a bad feeling.

Please… I hope you’re all right… Jake murmured inwardly.

Xi’s already low morale sank a little further as she sensed the frustration and helplessness weighing on her host.

In the end, despite his guilt, Jake was more or less at peace with himself. If he had to make those choices again, he would act much the same way.

Every decision he made was meant to maximize the survival chances of the people who truly mattered to him.

And Xi knew that perfectly well.

Deep down, she only hoped he would show the same determination if she were the one trapped down there with those things.

Soon, Jake reached his destination, barely recognizing the exuberant auburn foliage of Melkree. Compared to his last memory of her, her tree form had grown immensely, second only to the Titan Tree itself.

The moment she spotted him, the dryad’s expression filled with a mixture of excitement and relief. With Jake by their side, they were safe.

Even with its skull pierced and its body unmoving, Anthace’s avatar still sent chills down her spine.

Azeus seemed to share that opinion. Ever since Jake’s devastating surprise attack, the thunder demi-god had relentlessly bombarded what remained of the avatar with massive pillars of black lightning—yet its physical shell had suffered no visible damage.

Creatures capable of enduring his ultimate lightning without flinching were exceedingly rare, and he hadn’t held back. The complete lack of damage had deeply alarmed him, and Jake’s arrival instantly lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders.

Better let our leader handle this, he justified to himself, halting his storm of lightning as Jake landed.

Touching down, Jake carefully inspected Anthace’s avatar, but the moment he scanned it with his mental sense, it dispersed into ashes, the magnificent green-and-gold root supporting it disintegrating as well.

“Tch. That wasn’t its real body.” Jake clicked his tongue in mild disappointment.

He should have known.

After all, Melkree’s true body wasn’t her dryad form—it was her tree. She could conjure an avatar at the cost of some vitality.

The damage inflicted upon Anthace’s Spirit Body and Soul, however, was very real. For the avatar to wield the same powers as the Titan Tree, it had to be possessed—or directly controlled—by the original consciousness.

So even though the Titan Tree had only lost a single root and its avatar, Jake was certain he had seriously wounded it.

Now the real question was how quickly it could recover from such a psychic injury.

“Is everyone alright?” Jake asked briefly, studying the trio one by one as he prepared to take off again and continue saving whatever remained of the continent.

However, when his eyes fell on Albert, the Saint Bernard lycan and former second-in-command of Melkree, his pupils narrowed slightly.

“Who are you?!” he demanded coldly, an overbearing killing intent pinning the canine to the ground.

Shocked, Melkree immediately tried to intervene.

“W-what are you doing? He’s one of my former subordinates—and a member of your own faction!” she exclaimed with innocent indignation.

“Step aside.”

Jake moved her out of his way with a telekinetic wave of his hand.

But the young dryad rushed back immediately.

“Why?! At least give me a reason.”

This time it was Jake who stared at her in disbelief. Was she actually serious right now?

“But… because Albert is dead. Have you already forgotten?”

And you readers, have you already forgotten?