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Whether in the Duskwight Lands or the Lustra Plains, standout Players of the likes of Hephais, Caphriel, and Maeve made their entrance with thunderous flair in their own distinctive ways.
Some chose to keep a low profile, blending into the masses, while others chose to go big from the get-go. But whatever their approach, it was executed flawlessly, their true identities meticulously shielded for the time being.
Even an entrance as aggressive as Maeve's barely made ripples beyond her regiment. The tangible aura of fear and the chilling intent emanating from her lithe figure were more effective than any oath in silencing these barbarians who lived by might alone.
Yet, their emergence was accompanied by something else – another notification...
[ Rank 17 Players and Oracle Knights will join the war in 36 hours. These are the highest-ranking Players participating in this Ordeal. Rank 17 Colonels combined with the title of Oracle Knight hold the highest authority for this Ordeal. We recommend you use this time to solidify your position before your superiors arrive. ]
This alert was slightly different from the others, but for the Rank 14, 15, 16, and 17 lone Players, if any, it spelled disaster. Their sole relief was, thank the heavens, that it was the last. Had there been subsequent ones heralding the imminent arrival of Rank 18, then 19 and 20 Players, their self-worth would've been utterly shattered.
*****
Thirty-six hours later, inside a specific Red Cube...
Jake, bored to tears and wondering how much longer he'd have to wait to partake in the war on Twyluxia, finally felt a familiar force grasp his soul, rudely yanking him from the desolate dimension.
'At last! I thought this moment would never come.' Jake rejoiced, feeling his consciousness waver briefly before sensing solid ground beneath him and being met with a pungent sweat-scented gust, prompting him to discreetly rub his nose.
The crushing gravity that had ended the earliest Players and horribly oppressed those in subsequent waves didn't even warrant a mention in his presence. Yet, with his keen perception, he instantly took in all there was to see.
'The gravity here is insanely high compared to my previous Ordeals. This world must be staggeringly vast.' He marveled, cracking his neck.
He could also sense other, more concerning restrictions; one of which severely hampered his mental senses, making the use of his various powers nigh impossible. If he, a Player of his caliber, found it challenging, then odds were that the other Players had basically reverted to mere mortals since arriving here.
In fact, even the Aether, generated by his Energy Body and supposedly stored within his cells for easy access, seemed to vanish somewhere before he could harness it for his own use. This implied, much to his chagrin, that nearly all his Aether Spells had become moot.
However, he could still tap into the energy directly contained in his cells. But the restrictions on his mental senses considerably diminished its power to the extent that he might as well duke it out with his bare fists.
"Those behind these Ordeals are truly twisted," Jake quipped, realizing that both his Space Storage and his Inner Space Dimension were now out of reach—unless he exerted a monumental effort.
The most maddening part was that the armor he had poured so much love and effort into, which he had equipped to brace against any unwelcome surprises, had been torn from him without consent, replaced by rags and a short sword even more fragile than his nails.
Seeing the brawny brutes humming as they marched around him dressed in the same worn-out attire, he felt a smidge better. Keeping pace with the other barbarians in his cohort as if all was normal, he keenly listened to Xi's report.
[The gravity here is roughly 40,000 times that of Earth. The Aether is being redirected elsewhere, our mental sense is sealed, and the world's space has an impressive stability,] she relayed calmly after analyzing the Oracle Scan's data. [The average Fifth Ordeal Player's Real Strength is about 27,000 times that of an Earthling, which, by my calculations, should suffice for them to endure for a while without perishing.]
"Thing is, where there's an average Player, there's one below average," Jake interjected, feeling a fleeting pang of pity for those souls who had heedlessly thrown themselves into the jaws of danger chasing fleeting glory.
There had likely already been a massacre...
After a silent prayer for all those faceless Players lost in a war between two Mirror Universes that didn't even concern them, Jake's attention finally shifted to the "hikers" jovially marching beside him.
Men and a handful of women, ranging between 2 and 3 meters in height, marched clad in the same mismatched rags as him. Many were barefoot, armed with dubious iron short swords, spears, or pitchforks. Some of the cockier barbarians flaunted proper steel blades, bows, and sturdy leather sandals. About a fourth of them used a shield—a tiny wooden buckler no larger than Jake's hand—strapped to their forearms, leaving one to question its actual efficacy.
As for their looks, the Underworld Barbarians were naturally brawny, their thick bones and broad frames giving them a rough, rugged appearance. Their expressions vacillated between vacant and menacing. Their ashy, near sickly skin was reminiscent of the Throsgenians. But unlike the latter, their hair wasn't always white, nor did they look strictly human. Many bore features typical of other pseudo-humanoid alien species like the Drurs, Nosks, or Krishs.
But right now, what got under Jake's skin the most was...
"Damn it, this raunchy song is just awful," Jake muttered, barely resisting the urge to throttle the officer leading the procession, who belted out a chorus in his guttural language. "But first, I need to learn their tongue to perfect my disguise."
His skin already pale, Jake had no issues blending in with the Underworld Barbarians. Quite the opposite, his delicate features and lean, athletic build contrasted sharply with the bellowing, bulked-up semi-giants beside him. Standing a good head shorter than even the smallest recruit with his 1.9 meters stature, and wedged mid-cohort, all he saw was an expansive back.
"It's too late to alter my height or look now," Jake concluded, lips thinning as he halted the spontaneous shapeshifting of his body that was instinctively trying to match his surroundings.
If his false identity didn't at least account for that, it'd be utterly useless. He loathed the Oracle and its deceptions but begrudgingly admitted that it left no stone unturned.
While learning the local language was a tricky challenge for other Players, for Jake it was child's play. Even his techniques were a cut above the rest.
Struggling, he focused his mind to extend his mental senses beyond his body. However, immediately, an oppressive force as crushing as a mountain bore down on him, pushing back against his effort. His attempt was momentarily thwarted, and his mental projection ground to a halt.
Grinding his teeth in determination, Jake redoubled his concentration. Veins on his temples bulged and throbbed noticeably. His mental sense, initially stalled, began to spread out slowly, soon enveloping the entire regiment in an undetectable sphere.
'Their neural networks are easier to understand than I thought,' Jake mused with a touch of surprise.
In honing his Life Manipulation skills, Jake had also elevated his medical knowledge to a level unfathomable compared to his home planet before the advent of the Oracle System. Combined with his sharpened senses, analyzing an individual's brain activity in depth was about as simple as scrolling on the internet.
Also, he had grown accustomed to thinking and speaking in Oraclean, almost forgetting how primitive other languages felt in comparison. After all, Oraclean was touted as the ultimate language, encompassing every conceivable word.
Instead of painstakingly deciphering the language by ear, he delved directly into the structure and functioning of their brains to extract the information he needed. It might not match the Soulsearch abilities of the Duskwight Lands' Soulmancers — Jake was admittedly skittish about tampering with the soul — but in some ways, his method surpassed it. At least this way, he didn't harm anyone.
Moments later, the hidden gleam in Jake's eyes dimmed, and he pulled back his mental senses, his face etched with mild annoyance.
'This Ordeal is both simpler and more convoluted than I anticipated," he sighed, loudly joining the singing conscripts now that he grasped the song's meaning. Resignedly, he acknowledged to himself, 'In the grand scheme of things, there's no avoiding it. I'm going to have to engage in this war and climb the ranks the hard way.'
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