The Oracle Paths

Not all the Players in the room reacted in the same way to this surprise collapse. The hologram representatives were obviously helpless from wherever they were and calmly accepted their dismissal.

A few flesh-and-blood members made up the bulk of the screams, but most of them were really just the subordinates and other bodyguards providing security for their superiors. The brutal truth was that the Players sitting on those stone thrones didn't need their help at all.

Ignoring the panicked cries and grunts of pain from their pawns, Nucnar and Belakor snorted loudly without moving from their seats. A single sneeze from the rock giant restructured the stone table in front of him and stopped the falling rubble dead in its tracks. When he lifted a finger from his armrest, the debris turned around, the destroyed ceiling rebuilding itself as if one were turning back time.

The devil Belakor didn't have as much magical control over the rock as his rival, but he didn't need these magic tricks to prove he was in no danger. At ease, one of his huge membranous wings covered the top of his head like an umbrella and he let the projectiles pour down on him with utter indifference.

Some of the boulders weighed several tons, but the muscles holding his wing in place did not quiver a bit. One could have placed a full glass of water on his wing without any fear of the liquid spilling over.

Azeus slalomed casually between the rocks raining down on him, his body turned into a trail of lightning. Shamash didn't move either, a kind of spectral monster as huge as Belakor rising from his shadow to protect him and take the damage for him.

Vhoskaud was instantly crushed by a solid boulder five times his size, but his lack of reactivity proved that he hadn't really tried to defend himself. He just wanted a good excuse to extricate himself from this mess.

Then, the beauty who had been holding her breath for a while trotted elegantly under the wing of the demon Belakor, pinching her nose, determined to use it as a shield. Despite her reluctance, she showed no signs of worry or nervousness.

"Thank you big boy." She winked at him, a blush appearing on the demon's flushed cheeks. If the other Players weren't too busy dodging the falling debris, they would have been deeply shocked.

Well, the Spartan warrior who seemed to command them was the one who had the most banal, but also by far the most impressive response: He did not move at all.

Stoic, he let the debris hit him without flinching, continuing to stare intently at the crater in the dead center of the table. When a rock weighing several dozen tons fell on him, it ricocheted off his helmet with a chime. The rock broke in two on impact, each half sliding down his shoulders before falling away from his throne intact.

In this brief altercation, the threat level of each Player had been made clear. Jake frowned as he discovered the meager returns from his grand entrance. He had obviously spotted these exceptional Players, and recognized Azeus and Shamash whose names he still did not know.

As the survivors recovered from the cave-in, coughing up dust, Jake suddenly heard someone speak to him,

"I presume you are this Jake Wilderth that Vhoskaud has told us so much about." The Spartan declared apathetically as he gauged his appearance.

Seeing the network of lava veins running through his body there was only genuine curiosity. But not the pleasing curiosity of a child eager to learn, but rather the condescending wonder when an elephant met an ant that was a little bit plumper than the others.

"And you are... ?" Jake inquired coldly. Since the man he was dealing with did not hide his contempt, he had all the reasons to do likewise.

Underneath his impassive façade, an alarmed bell had just rung in his head. Vhoskaud? This name was not unknown to him. It was that of the Lich sitting on the Council of Laudarkvik. One of the two Undead leaders!

Scanning the huge room with his mind he had already found the remains of the Lich android, who had just been destroyed for the third time since the beginning of this Ordeal. Separately, these two pieces of information were nothing to worry about, but together they became an earthshaking revelation.

Because Vhoskaud was a Lich who had been ruling the Undeads of Quanoth for almost a thousand years. Since his arrival, Jake had done his homework and knew everything there was to know about the influential people of Laudarkvik and the Ret'Asi Empire in general.

The problem was that Vhoskaud was definitely a Player, just like them. There was no way he could have been on Quanoth that long or it would be completely unfair.

The Spartan sitting on his throne didn't show anything, but he was uncannily attentive. Just from his mental fluctuations, and his cursory glance at Vhoskaud's body, he grasped his enemy's dismay. In the face of such cluelessness, he could not help but chuckle sympathetically,

"Because you are ignorant of those you are antagonizing, I am willing to turn a blind eye to what has just happened if you swear not to interfere with our affairs again. Leave Laudarkvik today. With your talent, you can certainly finish this Ordeal with flying colors. Why risk everything in the name of a vain friendship?"

Wrong move. Reminding Jake why he was there only solidified his resolve. It didn't matter whether or not Vhoskaud was a Player or a native of Quanoth. That hadn't stopped him from getting smashed every time they met. If he could beat him thrice, he could beat him a fourth time, then a fifth.

In the meantime, if he wanted to save Carmin, Elduin and the others, he had to fight these Players. Giving up negotiating, he snarled spitefully,

"Where are Carmin and the others?"

"Carmin?" The giant Spartan raised a confused eyebrow. "Belakor?"

"Hmmm, we did capture one Aisling, but Carmin... She must be one of the Mutants we captured along with her." The hideous demon hesitated briefly before bursting into laughter as it spewed acid in all directions.

A vein swelled on Jake's forehead as he felt the alien's mirth. He had decided he would start with this jerk. The Spartan didn't miss the Myrtharian's impatience and quietly coughed into his fist to pull the demon back into the conversation,

"Belakor, are they alive?"

"Hmmm, let me check."

As arrogant and brash as he was, Belakor was a model of obedience brimming with obsequiousness in front of this Spartan yet almost four times smaller than him. After tapping several buttons embedded in the stone table, recently rebuilt by Nucnar, several hundred real-time video camera recordings appeared before them.

There were many prisoners, but Jake recognized Carmin and his other companions at a glance. When he saw what state they were in, he immediately erupted in rage.

"So... who is this Car-" Belakor sneered scornfully before his eyes became round as saucers as he saw a huge ball of plasma approaching his face.

"DIE!"

There was no changing a technique that worked. Grabbing his Aether Sun Core with both hands, Jake teleported in front of him and whacked him in the face with it. As big and tall as he was, the demon howled in pain as the fireball melted his skull, his bones and rotting flesh liquefying in an instant.

"YOU DARE!"

This vicious surprise attack aroused the wrath of the Players present. All but the Spartan and a few rare exceptions went on the attack, swarming over him like a cloud of locusts. Nucnar was at the forefront of the assailants.

As Jake was furiously roasting Belakor's head, he felt a sharp gust of wind warm the back of his neck. His hair instinctively stood on end at the impending danger and he teleported behind Belakor, leaving the Aether Sun Core in the same spot - that of a fishbowl with the demon's charred head inside.

As he retrieved the Aether Sun Core with his other hand, the huge steel club that caused the gust of wind struck the very spot where Jake had been standing a split second earlier. With no target to take the blow, the weapon continued on its trajectory, slamming violently into his comrade Belakor's charred jaw.

BAM!

The table and the rebuilt ceiling collapsed again. Jake, who had teleported behind Belakor, was also blown away by the blast before crashing into the opposite wall a few dozen meters away. While Jake, who weighed several tons, was blown away like a twig in the face of a hurricane, the other Players present were catapulted into the afterlife, their bones shattering all at once.

Just by the shockwave, one could imagine the sheer violence of such a collision. Nucnar was a rock giant of more than thirty meters, weighing several hundred tons. This explained some of its destructiveness, but not all. The giant's speed had shocked Jake.

Its speed wasn't even a tenth of Jake's, but when put into perspective with its mass, it took incredible strength. Even after his power-up, Jake was acutely aware that this giant was by far the Player with the greatest brute strength he had ever encountered in an Ordeal. It was an eye-opener.

Extracting himself unharmed from his wall crater, Jake squinted his eyes as he stared at the rock giant. At that moment, he felt a tickle on his ankle, as if a koala had curled up on it. Looking down, his eyes met the most beautiful woman he had ever met. At his confused look, the woman suddenly took a big, loud breath.

"Finally some fresh air!" She exhaled as she closed her eyes, oblivious to the fact that she had just escaped death. She then sniffed Jake's legplate and gave him a thumb up, "You smell good."

" ... "