The Oracle Paths

Chapter 1227: A Piece I Can Trust

In the middle of the arena—now a scene straight out of the apocalypse—a young woman with tangled pink hair stood trembling and gasping for breath, soaked in sweat, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She had technically won, unleashing overwhelming magic to claim victory... but her condition was barely any better than the one she had just annihilated.

Sure, unlike her opponent, she still had her voluptuous body and some semblance of charm left—but she looked one step from death’s door. If she’d just been drenched in blood, maybe it wouldn’t have raised too many alarms. But it was hard to overlook the fact that she was quite literally leaking brain matter from her ears—God knows what else was oozing from the rest of her.

It was a grotesque enough sight to make several hardened soldiers gag on the spot. The more sensitive among them sprinted to the nearest trench to vomit, unintentionally "baptizing" a defensive line meant to fend off enemy archers—only to be used first by their own allies. The coppery stench of scorched flesh and corrupted blood mixed with the powdery ash from the blast zone, baking into the nostrils of everyone nearby like a curse that wouldn’t wash off.

Esya, completely unfazed by the retching around her, was still somehow standing—her jaw clenched so hard it was a miracle her teeth hadn’t shattered. Even more astonishing: she was barely conscious. Her body swayed in the heat-haze like a candle flame ready to go out at the slightest gust.

The awe-inspiring flames that had taken down her enemy were now long gone, reduced to a faint halo of white fire shimmering with green and gold undertones—the Aethers of Constitution and Vitality working overtime just to keep her alive. Honestly, it was a miracle she’d had enough wits left to perform even the most basic healing procedures. Her legs buckled slightly as she staggered forward, every step echoing with defiance against the laws of biology.

The cost of her final attack was higher than any spectator could have possibly imagined.

Still, it wasn’t enough. Without their Faction Passive, she’d already be dead. If they did nothing, she’d drop dead in the next minute or two. Each breath was shallow and labored, her lungs whistling like a winded forge.

Jake was just about to step in when he saw her pull out a small vial of silver liquid. He recognized it instantly—Digestor Blood.

It hadn’t been that long since he’d battled Sinewshades and Voidshifters in the BX9684 Magnetic Resonator. There was no mistaking that fluid—thick with lifeforce and malevolence. It seemed to pulse within its container, like it had a will of its own.

Will and the others had spent four years fending off wave after wave of Space Digestors. The number of alien pests they’d butchered was probably somewhere in the hundreds of millions—maybe even billions. The amount of blood they’d collected was beyond reckoning. And every drop of it was a coin flip between salvation and damnation.

Jake was painfully aware of the risks of Corruption now and would never have dared drink the stuff unless he had no other choice. Still, the boost it gave to regeneration—especially from such a high-ranking Digestor—was undeniable. And the blood in Esya’s vial was clearly potent.

But as soon as she uncorked it and raised it to her lips, his assessment changed.

Unlike the typical toxic malevolence that radiated from unrefined Digestor Blood, this batch was strikingly pure. Somehow, the blood had been processed—cleansed and fortified with other rare substances to magnify its effects while dramatically reducing the side effects. It smelled different, too—not just of iron and venom, but of sanctified earth, like the remnants of a holy ritual.

It wasn’t flawless, but the fact that such a method even existed proved that this world’s scientists and Aetherists weren’t completely helpless against Corruption. Jake ran a mental scan over the silvery fluid with meticulous care... and couldn’t help but sigh quietly.

"What a shame..." he thought, shaking his head in disappointment. No matter how sophisticated the magical and chemical processing, the taint of Corruption lingered—like cockroaches in a slum apartment. You could fumigate the place, but they always came back.

In the end, Corruption wasn’t something you could truly stop. Only slow down. The soldiers on the frontlines drank so many potions made from this so-called "refined" Digestor Blood, they were bound to flip sides eventually. It was just a matter of time.

Once her wounds were stabilized, Esya wobbled her way toward the spectator stands in a ragged flight path, then collapsed to the ground before Jake and the others, safely out of sight from the crowd.

Ashamed, she lifted her eyes, searching for Jake’s gaze—only to freeze the instant their eyes met.

He’s... sad.

The fact that he was sad or worried should’ve comforted her. But the disappointment etched on his face—and that look of "figures"—cut deeper than any blade.

It’s over... she thought bitterly, her face somehow growing even paler.

Jake helped her up like a perfect gentleman, even channeling his own Aether into her to heal the last of her wounds. But his kindness, his concern—only made the emotional pain worse.

In that moment, she couldn’t even register the fact that he was holding her hand... or how fast her wounds, even her soul, were regenerating. His Aether felt like life itself—capable of bringing someone back from the brink of death.

Just not her shattered pride.

"All done," Jake said, releasing her hand with an unreadable expression. Xi, who had direct access to his thoughts, felt her core sink like a stone. His emotions weren’t hidden from her—and what she sensed chilled her.

It’s over... Convincing him to rely on others after this mess will be next to impossible.

Both women shared similar thoughts... but Xi’s were far graver.

[Don’t throw away everything we discussed just because of this result.] she warned softly, but his response shattered her heart.

’Im not throwing it away. I just don’t want to risk the people I care about when I can do the dirty work myself.’

[No leader can succeed without learning to use their people wisely. And your friends will never grow if you keep them locked in a golden cage. Haven’t they survived just fine without you? Trust them!]

For a brief second, Jake’s expression twisted with anger—finally breaking the icy mask he’d been wearing.

"Before was before. Now is now," he said coldly, making his companions flinch—Esya most of all.

They immediately understood he wasn’t talking to them, but to his Oracle AI. And yet, everyone somehow grasped the weight of his words. A shiver ran down their spines, instinctively dreading the decision he had just made.

"From now on, I’m setting the pace." Jake declared, scanning his friends one by one before fixing his cosmic, emotionless gaze on Esya and her sister. "I get it. You wanted to prove yourselves, and you’ve come a long way. I see that. You’re not a burden. I am. I’m a shitty boss. I’m not meant to lead or give orders. I tried playing the strategy game... and sure, I could win it, as long as I treat you all like disposable pieces on a board."

"Some part of me thought I could win without sacrificing anyone. But this fight made it crystal clear—I’ve been lying to myself. There’s only one piece I fully trust. Only one I’m willing to sacrifice to get the job done. And that’s me."

"...Are you saying we’re useless?" Asfrid asked, voice tight with unease.

Jake shot her a razor-sharp look—but just as he opened his mouth to reply, Mani’s awkward cough broke the tension.

Everyone turned toward the K-pop idol lookalike, suddenly placing him center stage.

"What’s up?" Will asked with forced warmth, silently thanking him for the perfect timing. This conversation didn’t need to go any further.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

"Sorry, but after the last match..." Mani hesitated, visibly torn.

"...Spit it out."

Pressed by the rest of the Myrtharian Nerds, Mani slumped in defeat and confessed:

"After Esya’s duel... none of my men want to fight."

Will frowned. "Not even Zelorian Quen or Kang Jun?"

"They’re afraid of revealing too much in front of everyone," Mani admitted, running a hand through his hair with a sheepish laugh. His mannerisms mimicked Cho Min Ho’s to perfection.

"What a joke," Enya sneered, glaring daggers at the two Players. She and her sister had perfected that look—the kind that made you want to crawl into a hole.

Truth was, even those two cocky bastards weren’t confident they could win after watching her sister get steamrolled. Arrogant? Sure. Stupid? Not that much.

Will, Enya, and Asfrid looked about ready to roast Mani alive, when Jake suddenly said:

"Perfect timing. If no one wants to fight, it’s time to end this ridiculous tournament."

"But—"

Before anyone could stop him, Jake vanished. A thought was all it took—he teleported into the center of the arena.

The Lustra Plains’ camp, still reeling from their earlier loss, was busy arguing among themselves when they noticed the lone figure standing at the center.

Then silence fell—abrupt and absolute. A dreadful chill gripped every soul present.

There was only one man in the arena, but the solemn, overwhelming aura that radiated from him felt like death incarnate. The leaders of the Radiant Conclave sensed it too. And they feared what came next even more than their subordinates.

As expected, the sentence dropped like a guillotine:

"From now on... I’m your opponent. All of you. Come."