The Oracle Paths

Chapter 1216: When Monkeys Go Ape

”Well, congrats are clearly in order...” The shapeshifter greeted them with a slow, sarcastic clap, his smile rigid. ”Yet another effortless win for your faction.”

Jake didn’t miss the biting sarcasm coating Mani’s words. It was obvious the shapeshifter was still sore from his own embarrassing performance earlier, bitterness practically oozing from each syllable. Compared to that fiasco, envy was understandable. Of course, calling a victory ”effortless” after literally shitting an opponent to death might be pushing it. Seen in that light, the thinly-veiled mockery in Cho Min Ho’s doppelgänger’s voice took on a darker edge.

Suddenly, rapid wingbeats filled the air, and the group turned to see their ’champion’ already returning. As soon as the turkey landed, he puffed up his chest, proudly stretched his neck, and struck an expectant pose, clearly waiting for a storm of compliments... that never came.

Instead, he caught a fireball up the ass courtesy of Enya.

”You’ve got some nerve expecting praise after humiliating us like that!” Esya chimed in, blasting him with her own perfectly aimed flame spell. ”Did you really have to defeat him by shitting all over him in front of millions of soldiers?”

Lord Phenix shot back an offended glare, clearly unrepentant. In his bird-brain logic, defecating on enemies was the ultimate power move. How else could you prove total dominance? Honestly, why were humans always so uptight about these things?

”Enough. At least the job’s done,” Will interjected, visibly straining to resist the urge to torch the bird himself. Every passing second dealing with that turkey made his temper flare dangerously close to eruption, and Lord Phenix’s arrogance certainly wasn’t helping.

”It’s your turn again.” Jake changed the subject, leveling a skeptical look at Cho Min Ho’s double. ”Think you can handle it?”

Though his question might have seemed genuinely concerned to an outsider, Mani knew he’d just lost whatever shred of credibility he still had with the Myrtharian leader.

Truth be told... He glanced at the lizard and monkey beside him, their faces blank like death-row inmates, and words failed him. After a painfully long pause, he croaked, ”We’ll do our best.”

Karma really was a bitch. They’d intended to stall or fake a loss, but now survival itself seemed questionable. Mani briefly considered contacting Cho Min Ho again but knew full well he’d need every ounce of strength for the upcoming mission.

Ultimately, in the grand scheme, their defeats didn’t matter—every second gained was valuable. With grim resolve, Mani ordered the unenthusiastic lizard, ”You’re up.”

*****

Meanwhile, on the Radiant Conclave side, their champion had also been chosen. Master Eldrion wasn’t entirely sure about his decision to hold back his best beast in the last round, but the outcome validated his instincts.

In fact, Anthace had assured him there was no need to hold back—he still had plenty of creatures in reserve, even if their strengths varied. Eldrion could request, but ultimately the Titan Tree decided how to fulfill those requests.

Thanks to Lord Phenix’s absurdly swift victory, the Radiant Conclave hadn’t realized the terrifying truth: the centipede defeated in such humiliating fashion had been far more powerful than the gorilla-pitbull monstrosity they’d previously unleashed. Had they known, they might have completely reassessed their strategy. Had Lord Phenix known, he’d have boasted about it for weeks until his voice cracked.

Ignorance, however, was bliss for the Lustra Plains. If Eldrion had known the truth, his confidence would’ve surely been shaken.

As before, the old warrior communicated with Anthace’s roots through his staff, requesting a worthy contender for this fourth beastly duel.

”A lizard, huh? Then let’s see...” Eldrion muttered thoughtfully. He meticulously visualized the perfect predator, seeking the ideal balance of speed, agility, and deadly ferocity.

An increasingly familiar sight erupted again in the newly repaired arena. The barely patched hole exploded outward, unveiling another subterranean nightmare: a shrike.

On Earth, this tiny bird wouldn’t scare a toddler. But when it had the wingspan of a skyscraper and emitted the sinister Black Lumyst like a miniature dark sun, it was another story entirely. Here, birds reclaimed their ancient dinosaur legacy.

Critically, on Earth, shrikes loved eating small lizards. Judging by its ecstatic shrieks at the sight of the trembling green reptile, dietary habits hadn’t changed much across worlds.

As soon as the duel commenced, the shrike lunged at its seemingly petrified prey, who dodged with deceptive ease. Unlike the chihuahua, its cowardly appearance was merely camouflage for both friend and foe.

An intense, breathtaking battle unfolded in the sky and on the ground, drawing gasps and shouts from the captivated audience, with the sinister shrike relentlessly trying to skewer or shred its nimble target. Despite its massive size, the monstrous bird was absurdly quick—each stabbing peck striking the ground with nuclear force.

Every rake of its claws carved multi-meter furrows into the arena floor, and each leap paired with thunderous wingbeats generated shockwaves potent enough to knock recruits unconscious—particularly those Dusken Throne warriors focusing on Spirit Lumyst over physical attributes.

Several intense minutes passed. Jake even raised a protective barrier for the audience. Master Eldrion might have asked Anthace for help, but Jake had beaten him to it, leaving him silent and watchful.

”The lizard’s holding its own,” Jake acknowledged midway. But his keen eyes caught the subtle shifts in momentum, and he knew the fight couldn’t last much longer.

But before Mani could feel any relief, Jake continued grimly, ”But at this pace, it’s gonna lose.”

Indeed, although the fight seemed balanced, the scales slowly tipped in favor of the shrike. Watching intently, Great General Radahn, typically silent, noted,

”It’s the Black Lumyst. Every brush with that vile energy is taking a nasty toll.”

Invisible to casual observers, the little lizard’s scales had regenerated multiple times to fend off the dark energy—but its eyes and ears weren’t as fortunate. Without realizing it, its brain had already been compromised, along with its sight and hearing.

Whoosh!

After hundreds of exchanges, the shrike unleashed a burst of dark energy and dashed forward at blinding speed. Leaving afterimages in its wake, it skewered the helpless lizard with its elongated beak, then cruelly sliced it open as the reptile dangled helplessly.

At the brutal sight, something snapped within the previously timid monkey. His meek demeanor melted away, replaced by cold hatred.

”Idiot,” growled the monkey in a voice far older and deeper than his small stature suggested.

By some miracle, the lizard was still alive. He’d been sliced clean down the middle, lengthwise, but managed to twist just enough to spare his head. Still, even with his high stats, he was on death’s doorstep.

He couldn’t move a muscle as the shrike’s beak slowly approached his skull with the sick deliberation of a chef slowly lowering the knife over a still-twitching fish. The monkey’s rage intensified.

Veins bulged beneath his fur, his golden eyes bloodshot. A primal aura of brute strength began to surge from his tiny frame, threatening to tear the world apart. He wasn’t about to let his buddy get eaten.

Moved—or maybe just wanting to avoid a King Kong-level rampage in the stands—Jake calmly said, ”I’ll handle it.”

Just as the shrike’s beak was about to pierce the lizard’s half-dead eye, it froze in midair, paralyzed by an invisible force. At that same moment, Jake reappeared in his seat, the dying lizard cradled in his arms.

”Such vile energy...” Jake muttered, sensing the Cosmic Fairy Force he’d used for the telekinetic feat dissolve rapidly upon touching the shrike’s Black Lumyst. A power that should’ve been entirely intangible.

It was different from the Digestors’ Destruction Aether. It lacked the irreversible corruptive element—but it was still utterly sinister, devoid of anything remotely creative. This black Lumyst carried the unmistakable mark of the broken Blade Spirit—one that had once belonged to a World Eater.

”Why isn’t he healing?” the monkey asked, face dark, as he took his reptilian friend from Jake. The weight of his emotion was almost palpable. ”With his regen, he should’ve bounced back by now.”

A regular lizard could regrow its limbs. For a Player of this level, specialized in physical prowess and super regeneration, this should’ve been nothing.

”He needs to be purged of the Black Lumyst,” Jake said plainly, doing his best to mentally quarantine the hostile energy.

It wasn’t going well. If he struggled despite his incredibly rare Energy Manipulation lineage, then for anyone else, it’d be flat-out impossible.

”In that case,” he said, gaze narrowing, ”we’ll just have to destroy it by force.”