The Oracle Paths

Hephais and Meribelle's ears perked noticeably upon hearing his sinister declaration. The assassin was merely curious about what Jake was planning, but as for Meribelle, the female Soulmancer who had recently been on the receiving end of his power, she was already spooked about what would come next.

'Hopefully, this will give me a good idea of the full extent of this foreigner's abilities.' She thought to herself, sharing a fleeting glance with one of the seven recruits still alive.

Their respective expressions, while fitting their roles, inadvertently betrayed the fact that they were praying this self-proclaimed second Soulmancer King's power didn't exceed that of the original. As for Meribelle, she was indeed on the verge of taking her last breath. If a solution wasn't found soon, her chances of survival would only dim further.

Dying of old age at just 29—making her one of the youngest Master Soulmancers in the Duskwight Lands—what a cruel fate that would be…

That's why Hephais and Jake's intervention, though far from ideal, was welcome. If neither had stepped up, the true Soulmancer King would have had no choice but to kill everyone and flee with Meribelle, or blow his cover to the remaining recruits and foes.

For reasons only he knew, the actual Soulmancer King had no doubt that the Radiant Conclave had ways to quickly locate him if he even let slip a tiny sliver of his aura.

Then the moment of truth arrived in a manner as brutal as it was spectacular. Just as Meribelle wondered how Jake planned to dispatch the seemingly indestructible Vitalist and the even tougher Lifemancer who had drained her lifeforce, he abruptly lifted his arm and grabbed at something in the air.

At that instant, the gesture seemed almost comical and pointless to nearly everyone, except for the Lifemancer, who turned as pale as a sheet, his eyes bulging in amazement at what he'd just witnessed.

"I-Impossible!" He screamed in shock and horror before making a hasty about-face to try and flee.

But it was already too late. Jake's intervention was complete.

The roughly 1,500 Shimmers still alive, the Vitalist, and the Lifemancer all froze in place, whatever they were doing. Then, Jake casually clenched his fist, as if pulling on something.

The next instant, the reality of the nine witnesses spared by his mysterious action shattered. In less time than it takes for a photon to circle the Earth, the gazes of over 1,500 enemies went glassy, and their once-vibrant bodies rapidly fossilized on the brink of disintegration. A nanosecond later, their bones also disintegrated, turning back into dust.

The raging winds of the hurricane swept up these ashes soon after, scattering the last traces of their existence in all directions, when the torrential rain hadn't already mixed them with mud...

For six of the seven recruits, it was as if absolutely nothing had happened, making the scene even more traumatic and unbelievable. One moment they were fighting 1,500 Light Warriors, and the blink of an eye later, they were alone, standing in shock in the blood-soaked mire.

Without this indisputable evidence reminding them that a difficult battle had indeed occurred, they could've thought they'd imagined it all.

However... For those with more advanced perceptive abilities, their stunned bewilderment was even more paralyzing. What they had just seen had profoundly shaken them on multiple levels. Even Hephais, who had high expectations, couldn't help but shiver after what he had just seen.

"W-what did you do?" Meribelle stammered in a raspy voice. "Did you snatch their souls? But why did their bodies end up in this state?"

Pulling a soul out of a body against its will was one of the ace cards of the most formidable Soulmancers. Strong Commanders and Generals could also passively accomplish such a feat, thanks to their Lumyst Aura acting as a potent magnet for wandering souls.

However, "wandering" was the operative word. When a soul still resided in its body, forcing it out was exponentially more challenging. Only when the spiritual power gap between a Soulmancer and their target was abyssal could such an event have a chance of occurring.

For Meribelle, it was a non-starter. The same went for Hephais, although he could perform something similar by binding the souls of his prey to their shadows before snatching them away.

But what Jake had just accomplished went well beyond just snatching their souls. That was the part neither Meribelle nor Hephais could perceive, hence their puzzled expressions.

"Original Spell: Morphic Grasp, Third Form, Essence Snatch," Jake finally responded, his demeanor calm, addressing Meribelle, Hephais, and the probable Soulmancer King.

He had just improvised that last name.

Pretending to clench his fist as if holding something, his eyes glowed ominously in the twilight, and sporting an evil grin, he said, "Can't you see them? All these life threads."

Seeing his angelic face flash such a demonic smile while speaking so casually sent a chill down Meribelle's spine—even though she was already at death's door. The expressions on Hephais and one other recruit shifted too, turning deadly serious.

Reflecting on their discovery of the Vitality Link used by the enemy Vitalist, they could easily guess what Jake had just done. Too bad for them, or perhaps fortunate for their mental health, they vastly underestimated the scale of his action.

His counterattack was just beginning.

For he not only held over 1500 life threads and souls belonging to these Shimmers in his hand, but there were also two more from the deceased Vitalist and Lifemancer. The spell could have ended there, but it seemed the Lifemancer was also connected to other sources, their life threads fading into the distance…

That's why these Lifemancers were such a pain to kill. Typically, a Soulmancer would focus on either destroying or capturing their souls and Spirit Bodies to take them down. Commanders and Generals would rely on Soul Damage through their Lumyst Aura to achieve the same result.

Otherwise, they were notoriously unkillable, each one connected to another in a sprawling network of life threads that reached as far as the Celestial itself. How this differed or was similar to his own faction mattered little.

What mattered… was that they were all connected.

Adjusting his stance, grounding himself as if preparing to pull something with all his might, Jake's grin turned into a wicked smirk, and he chuckled to himself, "Hope they're ready for this little game of Tug Of War, hehe."

Then Jake pulled with all his might, both with his hands and his Essence Snatch ability powered by his most advanced True Will. For the other witnesses, watching him strain to pull nothing at all seemed absurd, but they didn't doubt for a second that he was doing something absolutely terrifying.

Because in the separate perceptual world of the Lifemancers, an apocalyptic calamity was about to strike.

*****

On another front to the north of Havocspire Citadel, another Lifemancer was locked in an aerial duel against an equally cunning and wicked elderly Soulmancer. He had regenerated countless times without landing the killing blow, but he felt that his moment of glory was finally on the brink of arriving.

Eyeing the old man, who was now practically skin and bones, he suddenly burst into cold, condescending laughter.

"I might die today, but you'll bite the dust first. Your life force is nothing more than a flickering candle in the dark, about to be completely snuffed out. Even if I do nothing, you only have days left to live. If you want to make the most of your remaining time, you'd better run while you still can."

Far from moved, the old Soulmancer shot him a sullen, icy glare.

"Spare me your spit. I may be on my deathbed, but I still have a sense of duty. If I flee, who will protect all these troops relying on me? If there's an afterlife, I don't want to spend it wallowing in guilt and shame. Now, please… do your worst."

The face of the Lifemancer, who had harbored a faint hope of settling things there, twisted in rage and frustration. Grinding his teeth, he spat venomously, "As you wish."

Raising his palms in an exaggerated manner, his Light Aura suddenly flared up, signaling a grand finale move of unprecedented scale. The face of the old Soulmancer hardened in response, bracing himself for whatever was to come.

But just as he mentally prepared for the worst, the fatal attack never came. Instead, the sacred light radiating from his adversary extinguished as if someone had just blown out a candle, followed by a blood-curdling scream that gave him goosebumps.

Narrowing his eyes to better view his opponent, they widened almost immediately to the brim as he saw the Lifemancer petrified with absolute panic, clutching his own throat with both hands as if he were choking.

Then, the Lifemancer's already ashen face turned an even paler shade of white, if that were possible. Abruptly releasing his throat, the man in the white robe tried to grasp and hold something in the air in front of his abdomen, as if his very life depended on it.

It did.

Half a second later, his ear-piercing scream abruptly ceased, and his body turned to dust, immediately scattered by the pouring rainstorm. It wasn't until a full minute had passed that the old Soulmancer lowered his eyes, discovering that the army of Light Warriors accompanying him had also been reduced to ashes in the same manner.

"By Lumyst, what kind of sorcery just took place? A failed spell?"

A logical assumption, but he couldn't have been further from the truth.

At that very moment, all across the various battlefields of Havocspire and well beyond, the same ridiculous scene was unfolding, setting off inconceivable chain reactions for the forces of the Lustra Plains.