The Oracle Paths

"AARRRRGGH! Laudarkvik will never submit to the tyranny of a repulsive Mutant!" Seskel spat in Jake's face, who was glowering at him in disgust as if the Vampire was already dead.

While conquering the Thrajah clan stronghold, what Jake had discovered inside had turned his stomach. Next to it, the Dracul dungeons were like an amusement park for children.

In these catacombs, there were no Vampires or criminals imprisoned, but only tens of thousands of young humans crammed into vast cells, locked up like cattle raised in batteries.

The hygienic conditions were abysmal and depending on the look and age of the prisoners their living conditions differed greatly. The most worn out and elderly had less than a square meter of living space. They had no clothes, no toilet or latrine, not even a chamber pot to relieve themselves. The smell in these cells was beyond stenchy, enough to make an Undead retch.

These poor humans provided food for the Vampires and Thralls at the very bottom of the social ladder, but also served to supply pasteurized blood bags on an industrial scale. To the Thrajah clan, these humans were effectively nothing more than cattle and had virtually no rights.

In between, there were the freshly captured teenagers and young adults. They were provided with toiletries and enough food to keep them healthy, but they still shared their cells with 7 or 8 roomates, the worst prisons on earth being a better place to live.

Finally at the top of the human cattle social ladder were the slaves, or delicacies as the Thrajah clan liked to call them. These young men and women were generally of extreme beauty, almost comparable to that of the Vampires. Their living conditions were quite decent and they were even allowed to leave their cells.

However, one should not be fooled. These humans were cattle like any other. Although their blood was reserved for the vampire nobility, if one of them called dibs on them, no one would protect them.

They were really just a source of entertainment for the elite of the clan and these Vampires could do absolutely as they pleased with them. No one would complain if they were to disappear.

It was the only kind of life humans could hope for from an abusive vampire clan that considered any other species as food. Alas, this morning they had kicked a hornet's nest...

At this very moment, the leaders of the enemy coalition were kneeling and bound in the center of the High Council chamber at the very top of Laudarkvik. The plush seats once occupied by the nine faction leaders were now occupied exclusively by Jake's companions.

Aisling had reclaimed her seat as the Mutant Leader, and a tiny, finger-sized Haynt stood on his far too large crystal seat. Jen, the Mimic, was still impersonating Remus Dracul and had been allowed to keep his throne.

To taunt Seskel, Jake had taken his seat and for good measure Lucia was lounging on the old seat formerly belonging to Casimir Nosferati, who had unfortunately passed away. His son Louis was gritting his teeth in anger, but there was nothing he could do. He was just too weak.

Enya and Esya had stolen the seats of the two Shifter leaders, while Gerulf and Rogen had destroyed the thrones belonging to the Demons Astraroth and Aggenur in their attempt to sit on them.

All of Laudarkvik's living leaders were present in this room, but the roles had changed dramatically. Most of the seats had been replaced by new faces, mainly Myrtharian Nerds, while the old leaders awaited their judgment with mixed attitudes.

Seskel's was self-explanatory, but Xaverie, on the other hand, retained her regal bearing despite the fact that she was kneeling and tied up. Her slight smile led one to believe that she was not at all worried and seemed on the contrary to be enjoying all these twists and turns. Syn and Melion on the other hand were extremely nervous.

Life was full of irony. They had joined the enemy coalition to conspire in the shadows against the Dracul clan and Nosferati, but in the end they had been arrested before they could accomplish anything. Even their mole, Jen, had become a traitor to the enemy. They had been completely fooled...

Syn was like Jen a Mimic, but level 87. Like Jen, when he was terrified he tended to revert to his birth form which he found more reassuring. That's why Jake and the others currently had their field of vision obstructed by a huge diamond chest as big as a jeep.

For obvious reasons, the Mimic couldn't be tied down, but it was completely immobilized by the Kintharians' Earth Control, the diamond in it becoming its greatest weakness.

Melion was a level 85 Alpha Shapeshifter specializing in Doppelgangers. Like Cypher from Lost Divinities he could copy any appearance down to their bloodlines and memories. On the surface their abilities seemed identical, but Melion could even copy a Grade 11 Bloodline. On Quanoth, the number of living beings he couldn't imitate could be counted on one hand.

The reason Melion was extremely nervous was precisely because there were several individuals among his captors who were nearing the limits of his mimicry abilities. Just because he could copy a Grade 11 Bloodline didn't mean it was easy. It took a considerable amount of time and maintaining the transformation over a long period of time was grueling.

"Shut up, Seskel." Jake finally replied as he bombarded the Vampire with ultraviolet rays causing him to curl up on the floor and shriek.

Ignoring the charred Vampire squirming feebly on the ground, he turned to the other prisoners.

"I offer you two choices. Either submit to my rule, or perish. Jake declared dispassionately.

"I-I promise to leave Laudarkvik and never interfere with your plans again? Isn't that enough?" Syn pleaded desperately, the diamond chest shaking like a leaf.

Gerulf and Rogen snickered.

"No." Jake smiled. "If the world wasn't about to end I might have agreed, but the Celestial City is already here. As long as you have the will to live we are bound to fight if we meet again."

"What happens if we surrender?" Xaverie asked as she leaned forward slightly to give him a straight view of her busty cleavage.

The young woman was even more plump than her daughter. She wore a shoulderless gothic dress of black and scarlet velvet, with a low cut corset that was tight around the waist and highlighted her milky breasts, as well as a flared dress beneath that concealed her long legs almost entirely. In front, the dress opened like the curtains of a theater revealing her porcelain legs and her high stilettos. Her dainty arms were hidden under long tight gloves covering her skin up to her biceps, which together with her mascara and her red lips gave her a femme fatale aura. To complete the picture, Xaverie had a youthful face that resembled that of her daughter Aisling and they had exactly the same crimson red hair and almost the same height.

The only difference with Aisling was that Xaverie had two black horns instead of one and two beautiful black feathered wings reminiscent of fallen angels. Everyone knew that if the demoness wanted to break her bonds no one would be able to stop her.

Jake felt a Charm dozens of times more frightening than Aisling's assaulting his consciousness, but Asfrid and the other Eltarians immediately merged their spirit energy to neutralize this foreign influence.

Seeing that her attempt at seduction was a failure, Xaverie stopped smiling and became much more sensible. Satisfied with her change of attitude, Jake smiled and answered honestly,

"You will have to join my faction and obey my orders until the end of my mission here. To do this you will have to sign a special contract that will make it impossible to disobey until I leave. I will never ask you to do anything humiliating and I will not send you to die in a suicide mission. However, if I order it, you must fight for me. In exchange, you keep your freedom, control over your properties and clans, but your possessions will surely be requisitioned for the war effort. If we don't survive this end of the world, your wealth won't do you much good, will it?

"So what do you choose?"