The Oracle Paths

Now halted in their tracks by an imposing army, the Underworld Barbarians could only watch helplessly as the Lustra Plains soldiers they had been pursuing slipped through their fingers.

It was the first opportunity for many to see what the infamous Light Warriors of the Lustra Plains looked like, and the stark reality shattered their already slim hopes for survival.

"H-h-huge," a frontline rookie stuttered anxiously, taking a timid step back.

"Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! By Lumyst, why does every one of these bastards have such insane lifeforce?" A bandage-covered veteran from another shattered regiment completely lost his cool upon sighting the formidable army.

Others who had barely survived their first skirmish wore similar expressions of outrage, as if they were the victims of a cosmic injustice. In a way, they were.

After coming down from the walls, Jake's unit had immediately reinforced the scattered remains of other beleaguered units. Among them were soldiers like the ones just mentioned, who had already tasted real battle but had been sent back to Havocspire Citadel due to severe injuries.

Though they initially had a significant numerical advantage, the Dusken Throne was losing four to ten times as many men for every inch of Havocspire they managed to reclaim.

This was not just because the Lustra Plains warriors were playing defense. The troops mobilized to assassinate the Soulmancer King and seize Havocspire Citadel were all hardened professionals.

Their exact numbers were unknown, but Jake estimated it to be around 500,000 from what he could see. Among them were a high proportion of elite troops conditioned for suicide missions, along with an array of genetically modified beasts, Radiant Mages, and Lifemancers calling the shots.

To make matters worse, if Jake had once thought the Underworld Barbarians looked tough, it was only because he hadn't yet seen what those from the Lustra Plains looked like.

Unlike the native Duskwights, Light Warriors didn't have to risk their lives in a perilous baptism to enhance their physiques. The abundant vital energy suffusing their half of the continent was more than sufficient.

In contrast, Underworld Barbarians, after millions of years of evolution, had only just adapted to the harmful spectral energy emitted by their river. Without readily available vital energy, there was a limit to what could be achieved by evolution and sheer grit alone. Not only did Underworld Barbarians have shorter lifespans, but they were also generally smaller and appeared more frail.

"And they're all well-trained and experienced, unlike our rookies," Jake observed, stifling a sigh. He felt like his new unit was about to get decimated for the second time.

"They've also survived their first initiation," Hephais added placidly, unsheathing a rusted sword that lacked a guard.

"Light Warriors who've undergone their first initiation and awakened their Light Lumyst Aura are called Shimmers," Sank-Uk announced loudly for all those who could hear. "Brace yourselves. This is going to be a hell of a fight."

Unfortunately, regrets were useless now. As soon as the last fleeing survivor from the Lustra Plains joined this out-of-nowhere army, their presumed commander gave the order to open fire without warning.

"LOOSE!"

Sank-Uk, who stood at the front, instantly yelled in response, "Take cover!"

He refrained from shouting "shields up," knowing that their pathetic wooden bucklers wouldn't do jack. Regardless, those who had one had already raised it to protect their faces, which didn't save them from an arrow to the knee.

Swoooosh!

It was an utter bloodbath. Over two hundred soldiers and rookies were pincushioned before they could even react.

This volley of arrows had two components: one horizontal and another arcing.

The second enemy line, shielded by their frontmen, consisted of experienced archers who meticulously picked their targets. Meanwhile, the rear line fired blindly into the sky, creating an imprecise but far-reaching barrage designed to hit the troops at the back or those trying to flee.

These archers were, without exception, half-giants at least ten feet tall, sporting bulging and chiseled muscles. Their bows were nearly as tall as they were, carved from dark wood teeming with vitality. Watching their muscles strain to the max each time they nocked an arrow, Jake had no doubt that the draw strength of these bows was akin to bending a steel rod.

A well-aimed arrow from these giants was equivalent to artillery fire. Against these green, already terrified recruits, it was complete overkill.

"Aaarrrgh, fuck! My thigh!"

"Holy shit! Right in the heel!"

"Aaaarrrrrrrrhhh! My eye!"

"Every man for himself!"

Seeing the recruits panic and turn their backs on the enemy, Sank-Uk gritted his teeth, cursing his luck for being saddled with such dead weight, then roared furiously,

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! If you want to live, charge at the enemy!"

Snapping back to reality, the terrified recruits who were getting picked off by enemy arrows turned on a dime and sprinted in the opposite direction, their courage suddenly reignited.

"Kill!"

"KILL THEM ALL!" Sank-Uk bellowed again, leading by example as he plunged like a missile into the enemy shield formation.

Jake and Hephais, standing motionless and stoic amid the chaos, exchanged a determined look. It was time for them to take their first steps in this war. Beyond the ramparts, General Torvi couldn't monitor them, but that didn't mean they could let loose without restraint.

"Let's take these guys out, but keep it low-key," Jake said before sprinting at the same speed as the other barbarians toward the enemy's shield formation.

"Sure." Hephais nodded.

They felt no guilt, for while the recruits were oblivious to what transpired above, he and Hephais could clearly see that Soulmancer Meribelle could have intervened to save them multiple times. Instead, she chose to twiddle her thumbs and monitor the various battlefields separated by kilometers of ruins and fog.

Sank-Uk was the first to clash with the enemy shield-bearers. These foot soldiers guys were walking tanks, towering over most of the barbarians. Seeing him approach, they confidently lowered their hefty rectangular shields, tightening their formation.

Big mistake! A mistake they immediately paid for dearly. With his right shoulder leading, the former commander crashed fearlessly into one of them with the force and speed of a runaway freight train.

BAM!

The soldier's wooden shield instantly caved in, folding before exploding into splinters. His body followed suit, getting flung back dozens of meters, taking out several of his comrades in the process.

Their formation shattered, Sank-Uk wasted no time lunging in, and with his heavy guandao, he instantly cleaved all nearby enemies in two with a swift, 360-degree horizontal slash. Shattered shields flew in all directions, accompanied by spurts of blood and guts.

Witnessing the spectacle, the Light Warriors gasped but quickly regained their composure, showcasing their extensive experience. With a tacit agreement, they backed away and took aim with their spears, forming a tight surrounding around him.

"SPEARS! THRUST!" Their commander bellowed with a voice that reverberated like an explosion.

The command was meant just as much for those who had encircled Sank-Uk as it was for the rest of the shield-bearers who were waiting, braced for the enemy recruits' charge.

Tragically, the outcomes were worlds apart.

While Sank-Uk effortlessly dodged the omnidirectional skewering with a leap into the air, what remained of his unit crashed miserably against the enemy wall of shields and spears.

Agonized gasps from the front line were punctuated by spurts of blood, like gruesome fireworks, as their glorious charge was brought to a screeching halt. Only those who were directly behind the former commander managed to slip through the crack he had momentarily created, only to find themselves mercilessly impaled soon after.

Witnessing this while still airborne, Sank-Uk, who had been nursing a sliver of hope that he could save at least a few, completely gave up.

"Dammit. It's hopeless."

Just as he envisioned the remaining wounded soldiers and recruits meeting the same gruesome fate—slaughtered like cattle—Jake and Hephais chose that moment to throw themselves into the fray.

As if casually strolling through their own backyard, the two men effortlessly reached the enemy shield-bearers, blending in seamlessly with the frenzied mob around them. Then, with an air of apathy that contradicted the gravity of the situation, they lifted their swords...

BANG!

It quickly became apparent that even when they tried to blend in as mere warriors, they couldn't help but radiate like the sun. From the moment they joined the battle, the entire course of the war, which had seemed set in stone, took an abrupt and game-changing turn.