The Oracle Paths

Haynt let out an amused chuckle from his seat.

"You're right, you need no plan if you're strong enough." The Astral replied after a while, standing up as well, when Jake had already left.

"Where are you going?" Aisling asked Haynt anxiously as she saw the two cornerstones of her confidence walk away.

There was a reason why the female Dhampir Demon had not immediately stormed off after Jake. Although she was immensely grateful to him for being part of her rescue, her last impression of him dated back to three months earlier.

The only noticeable improvement she could perceive from before was that his spiritual aura was substantially brighter, but for a native like her above level 80, going from level 28 to 37 didn't mean much. That's why from her viewpoint staying close to Haynt, who was above level 90, was a thousand times more sensible.

She couldn't understand where he got all that confidence.

On this point, at least it could be seen that Aisling was not malicious or manipulative. She was taking a huge risk by offering him the leadership of what was left of the Mutant faction. If it wasn't for his Guilty status, that he had saved her twice, and that she had just joined the Myrtharian Nerds and gained some much needed perspective, she would never have consented to such an act.

The other, less overt reason was that Aisling had lost her motivation and drive after learning that she couldn't save everyone. She just wanted to protect her sister and survive to the end.

To her, Jake's confidence was nothing but arrogance and she feared he would soon pay for it with his life. Inwardly, she began to wonder if she had made the right choice in swearing allegiance to him and her angst only grew.

"Relax." Haynt smiled reassuringly as he ruffled her hair.

Only Haynt could treat her this way as if she were still a kid. Even her biological parents had never been given that privilege.

"You underestimate his abilities. Just follow him and watch. It promises to be entertaining."

"Che!" Aisling sucked her teeth adorably after the Astral left the palace, but she decided to trust his judgment and ran after him to catch up.

Rifalen, who had been overlooked inside, suddenly realized he wasn't in his own home and his curiosity overcame his cowardice. In his heart, he also hoped that Jake's strength could match his cockiness.

When Haynt departed his palace, all the Astral and Mutant refugees who were still loyal to him started to move out after them. The Astral had decided to abandon his territory.

As soon as he and his retinue left the district, those who spied on him in the shadows relayed the news to their superiors, and a flood of Demons, Specters, Were-beings, and Vampires swept through his relinquished territory, reclaiming the lands fearlessly.

From the northeastern district of the city, they made their way back through Laudarkvik, this time heading east. Good thing it was the district right next to them.

As they left the deserted and gloomy Astral district, the group felt an obvious relief and even Haynt sighed when he saw what his territory had become. Except for a few hundred Astrals who were still loyal and a handful of useless ghosts, all the specters and most of his subordinates had betrayed him to join the Demon King Astraroth of the Thozuch clan.

The latter was an expert in spirit and soul matters and controlling a bunch of moronic and starving spirits was a cinch for him. His expertise also made him one of the most dangerous Quanoth natives.

No Fourth Ordeal Player stood a chance against Astaroth. Not Deimos, not Jake, not anyone else except maybe Sigmar and a few other anomalies whose cultivation was based on their soul force.

Each additional Spirit Body level strengthened and added yet another increment of Spirit energy both qualitatively and quantitatively greater than the preceding level. At level 90, Haynt's Spirit Body, even with his Myrtharian Spirit bonuses, contained 40,000 times more energy than Jake's.

If natives at this level were not digitized and could dissociate their souls from their bodies like some Players, then not only Haynt, but even Elduin and Bhammod could have had a shot at annihilating Jake's spirit in their first clash.

That was the extent of the gap between Quanoth natives and Players. Alas, the cruel irony of fate had decided otherwise. Without a specific Soul Class, the boundless power of their minds would be forever denied to them, limiting them to projecting a tiny sliver of their aura according to the limitations of their respective Soul Classes.

But Astraroth was an exception to this rule. This Demon King was a Grandmaster Soul Destroyer and the name itself spoke volumes about his abilities. No Player was to ever come near him under any conditions. Facing him would undoubtedly result in death... forever.

Even the Oracle could not ensure the survival of their souls under these conditions. Haynt, who understood the threat posed by the natives much better than Jake, was well aware of this discrepancy. On the way, he taught him everything he knew about the enemy coalition leaders, with particular emphasis on those he was expressly forbidden to engage.

In addition to Astraroth, Jake also had to beware of Xaverie, who relied on her charm to bewitch the souls of her preys, especially the men, but also of Xellmezon, the Undead seat that had vanished for several weeks. As a Wight, he could awaken and command the dead, but also corrupt the living if necessary to expand his forces. All of these abilities relied heavily on his Spirit Body's superior strength and control.

Jake began to develop a headache after Haynt's lecture. In addition to these three dangerous leaders, he also had to be on the lookout for any Spirit Mages or other Soul Specialists who might be lurking in the city. If he carelessly got too close to one of them, even a level 55 could turn him into a vegetable.

'It's going to be troublesome... When I get back, I'll have to find a solution to this problem as well. I can't count on others for such a big handicap.' He reminded himself, his forehead creased with worry.

"In that case, can I count on you to handle them?" Jake asked smoothly. If Haynt agreed, the problem would be half solved.

The old Astral laughed happily.

"I was waiting for you to ask." He replied with a glint in his eye. "If you have a solid plan, you can count on me. But it'll depend on your performance."

Jake caught his hint. If he was too weak, or his plan too flawed, Haynt could even join the enemy if it increased his chances of survival. The Astral owed him a favor, but that didn't automatically entail loyalty. The mind of a nearly 1,000-year-old Astral was not so easy to fathom, and it was a safe bet that he could be insanely devious and calculating when the circumstances called for it.

"Deal." Jake nodded in a low voice.

It was good timing, they had just reached their destination. Sire Gole had taken up residence with Prince Edric in the Human district. Leaving aside the fact that Laudarkvik was plunged into almost perpetual night, this Human district established on the fourth plateau resembled the wealthy residential areas of the capital.

It must have been a good place to live not so long ago, but because of Abbikesh's betrayal, the situation had changed for the worse. The latter still occupied their central office as well as two thirds of the district, which said a lot about who had the upper hand. As for the rogue dwarf Gimdli, who had earned his fortune through slavery and smuggling, he had joined Abbikesh with little hesitation.

The arrival of Jake, Haynt and Aisling did not attract much attention at first, thanks to Jake's stealth spells, but that changed as soon as they revealed their presence outside the inconspicuous villa where Prince Edric had moved in.

Perhaps because he was aware of his inadequacy and the danger he was in, the prince was overly cautious, and their group had to pass through several pat-downs before they were allowed to enter. At the very least, there were several hundred fallen knights stalwartly defending the villa.

"Welcome back Haynt! It's always a pleasure to see you!" An elegant young man enthusiastically shook the Astral's hand, a glimmer of awe and reverence in his eyes. "I'm surprised you were able to slip out of your palace."

With a noble, clean-shaven face, slightly tanned skin, a pert little nose, full lips, and long, sandy blond hair, this prince could have been mistaken for a princess if he wasn't wearing his gleaming armor. His voice was also ridiculously deep, ruling out any risk of misunderstanding.

At that moment, the prince noticed the people accompanying Haynt and he finally noticed that another man was walking at the same level as him, and even slightly ahead.

"And you are?" He felt some danger meeting Jake for the first time, but with Haynt and Sire Gole nearby there was nothing to worry about.

"Jake."

"Aisling."

"Rifalen."

Prince Edric nearly fell over when he heard their names. Jake's name had become famous after saving Aisling and Haynt from certain death, and he was one of the current Mutant Vice Leaders. Rifalen's fame was not small either, while Aisling's was self-explanatory.

What was most shocking was Aisling's return. The prince was only a tiny pawn on the Laudarkvik chessboard, but he was well aware of what Sire Gole and the other leaders of the coalition had done. Thinking back on their disgraceful actions, he suddenly feared the worst.

And when he met Jake's galactic eyes and was shocked to the core by an overwhelming killing intent, he knew they were doomed.

The coalition's leadership was about to change hands.