The Oracle Paths

1213  When Confidence Falters

A deafening gasp spread through both armies at the sight of the gruesome aftermath.

There was no doubt that the centipede had been a fearsome monster with unthinkable strength. Its venom, its electrical discharges, and that glossy obsidian carapace—everything about the creature made it seem invulnerable. Even a Saint would question their chances of victory, let alone achieving it in such a short span. Protecting their own lives was already the best they could hope for.

And yet, this abomination had still been defeated. No, more than that—it had been pulverized, wiped out, reduced to a shredded, dripping pulp in under two minutes. The acrid, acidic scent of its fluids still hung in the air, stinging nostrils and burning eyes.

”Absolute monster…” one soldier murmured in a trembling voice, summing up what everyone else was thinking.

That raw response shattered the oppressive silence choking both sides. Shocked exclamations and awestruck cries now thundered from the soldiers in an unending barrage. The psychological impact was simply too overwhelming. This clash of titans had been too intoxicating for most of these ordinary recruits.

The Lustra Plains faction felt it even worse, having suffered real casualties during the battle because of Master Eldrionʼs delayed response. The old man was still silently wrestling with his guilt.

”Ahem… You shouldnʼt blame yourself… Nobody could have predicted things would turn out like this.” Lady Faye cleared her throat awkwardly, so moved by the old manʼs remorse that she couldnʼt help trying to console him.

She had mentally prepared herself for Jakeʼs cat to be an anomaly, but even she had doubted that notion while witnessing the centipedeʼs lethal abilities firsthand. If those colossal mandibles had closed around her before she could dodge, she wouldʼve been sliced in two in the blink of an eye. After all, front-line combat wasnʼt exactly her specialty.

When the arthropod unleashed its toxic cloud and crackling electricity, sheʼd been sure the feline was doomed—huge and intimidating as it was.

In the end, sheʼd completely underestimated it. Not only was the cat unharmed, but that towering centipede had been wiped off the map like a lowly pest.

Which meant Eldrionʼs confidence hadnʼt been misplaced. Thatʼs why she couldnʼt bring herself to twist the knife on the old Saint, despite her infamous habit of tormenting weakened foes like a hyena toying with a crippled antelope still bleeding out.

Fortunately, it turned out sheʼd underestimated the elderʼs resilience, too. Master Eldrion hadnʼt earned his position for nothing. His mindset had long since evolved to see obstacles, unexpected setbacks, and failures as mere results—opportunities to learn. Toss him in the desert, and heʼd see an oasis.

”Donʼt worry. This is just our second defeat. Technically, weʼre still tied,” he declared eventually, regaining his usual poise.

His steely composure stabilized the generals around him, though it didnʼt dispel their doubts entirely. These battle-hardened warriors understood all too well what they had just witnessed; no amount of posing would fool them.

Aware of that, Master Eldrion continued, ”A demonstration is worth a thousand words. Another fiasco like this wonʼt happen again.” Inwardly, he brooded, And I refuse to believe they have many more cats like that—otherwise, weʼd already have lost this war.

With an authoritative sweep of his hand, he bellowed loud enough for both camps to hear, ”Weʼre moving straight on to the second match!”

Meanwhile, in the bleachers where Jake and his group were gathered, the mood was the polar opposite of the Radiant Conclaveʼs. Even those who knew Crunch well couldnʼt help being pleasantly surprised.

”That catʼs been hiding one hell of a trump card…” Asfrid remarked in a level tone, though her stormy gray-blue eyes betrayed a flicker of disbelief. She prided herself on gauging her companionsʼ abilities, yet sheʼd completely missed this.

That could only mean one thing: the catʼs spiritual power was at least on par with hers, or it had an item—or a special technique—to cloak its energy. She leaned toward one of those last two possibilities.

”Jake, did you see this coming?” Will asked, eyeing the catʼs ”owner” suspiciously.

Put on the spot, Jake wore a cool, easygoing smile, though beneath that calm façade he was just as floored as the others. Of course, he didnʼt let it show and replied with measured nonchalance,

”Sure did.”

Will didnʼt pick up on Jakeʼs discomfort and nodded, as if that was exactly how things should be. The other Myrtharian Nerds adopted the same knowing expression, all questions answered.

By contrast, Cho Min Hoʼs stand-in looked about ready to turn white as a sheet. It was his turn to send someone into the arena.

Initially, he didnʼt mind throwing some fights just to complicate Jakeʼs plans and buy time for their leader, as long as it wouldnʼt tank their Ordeal Rating too much. Purposefully losing could be seen as sabotaging their own side, but if it served a grander goal tied to the Global Main Mission, the Oracle System, with its all-seeing eye, would surely factor that in.

Besides, Cho Min Ho had never explicitly told them to forfeit fights—only to drag them out or force Jake to exhaust his resources. All he needed was a good enough distraction to finish his own objectives. If they could actually win a few matches, all the better.

But now, having already lost one fight, they risked losing more if the Radiant Conclave kept rolling out monstrous beasts like this. He wasnʼt naive enough to think the other side had opened with its best creature.

”What do we do, Mani?” Zelorian asked telepathically, looking grim. ”None of the beast-type Players here can compare to those Titans, not with the time weʼve had.”

That wasnʼt entirely accurate. There were indeed a few terrifying animals in the Kingʼs Idol Alliance, but they usually kept a low profile—just like Crunch had, looking tame one moment and turning into a nightmare spawn the next.

The trouble was, those beasts were with either Cho Min Hoʼs group or that albino Nosk, Harrkesh. Even if they contacted their leader to recall those animals now, itʼd take too long for them to arrive.

The one sliver of hope in this train wreck was that Jake probably didnʼt have a whole menagerie of pets as deadly as Crunch. At least he wasnʼt the only one who might lose. As long as the blame could be shared, he wouldnʼt shoulder all the fallout himself.

Sure, that big-mouthed orange turkey acting like a phoenix looked suspicious. But aside from that, there wasnʼt much else to worry about, right? If heʼd known the ”bodyguards” standing protectively around Will were actually dragons, he might have reconsidered.

At that moment, Master Eldrionʼs booming voice announcing the next duel reached their ears, turning the pressure back on. His heart sank, and he finally answered,

”Weʼve got no choice. I have to contact the boss. Whatever he decides, at least I wonʼt be the one taking the blame.”

Cho Min Ho, already deep in enemy territory, frowned as he received the call. In mere minutes, theyʼd reach Lustris, and he wouldnʼt have time for distractions. But since Mani wouldnʼt reach out without good reason, he answered with an indifferent growl,

”Mani, youʼd better have a damn good reason for calling me.”

Though he had his flaws, Mani didnʼt beat around the bush just to offload responsibility. He relayed exactly how things had played out and the predicament they now faced.

Cho Min Ho listened without betraying a hint of emotion, though the crease between his eyebrows grew more pronounced as the report went on. Suddenly, he halted in his tracks, forcing the troops following behind to stop short before crashing into him.

”Boss, whatʼs the deal?” demanded a lanky Player with zero courtesy. Once on death row before joining the Kingʼs Idol Alliance, he seemed incapable of fear or respect—an out-and-out psychopath, through and through.

”Nothing—just an unexpected development on the central battlefield,” the Korean answered coolly, refusing to dignify the criminalʼs insolence with more than a shrug. Heʼd long since gotten used to it. ”Weʼll have to send reinforcements.”

Ignoring the troublemakerʼs further questions, Cho Min Ho scanned the throng of Players marching with him on this clandestine expedition. Thanks to his sharpened senses and mental faculties, he picked them out almost immediately.

Their common trait? Each was a small creature—animal or reptile—that blended easily into the background. Most people dismissed them as mere mascots, but the higher-ups in the faction knew better. Behind those cute exteriors lurked terrifying killers. With no time to waste, Cho Min Ho barked an order for them to step forward, shattering their low-profile facade in an instant.