The Oracle Paths

1202 When Armies Clash, Let Champions Fight

Meanwhile, the chaos and cries from the enemy camp had subsided. The Radiant Conclave's army was likewise poised for the final showdown. Those with the keenest senses—both natives and Players—could even catch the fiery rallying cry of one of their generals, attempting to boost the morale of their blindsided troops.

It was a woman's voice, unrecognizable to most but unmistakably familiar to Jake: Lady Faye, the Radiant Conclave's femme fatale and a formidable Saint—the equivalent of their Great Generals.

Even from miles away, he could feel the seductive energy woven into her honeyed voice, conditioning the previously anxious Light Warriors to fight to the death with a zeal bordering on fanaticism. For a smile, even just a glance, they'd sacrifice themselves without a second thought.

"Should I do the same?" Jake mused, frowning as he glanced over his own army—recruits and veterans alike—many wearing expressions trembling with fear, some even looking resigned as if they'd accepted their fate to die here.

In the end, he chose to do nothing. Everyone was free to decide for themselves how they wanted to face death, and he wasn't about to hypnotize or charm them into serving as cannon fodder. It was moments like these that reminded him the Corruption hadn't yet claimed him. The day his cruelty no longer gave him pause would be the day the old Jake was truly dead and buried.

Serenely, he cast his gaze one last time over the millions of men and women arrayed before him, silently committing each face to memory. He knew that after today, many of them wouldn't make it back home.

Jake's eyes then drifted to the rear lines, locking onto Cho Min Ho and the cluster of high-ranking officers beside him. A glint of mischief flickered in the idol's gray eyes, but Jake remained stone-faced in the face of the thinly veiled provocation. Deep down, he was itching to smash his face in and make him swallow his teeth with a teaspoon.

"It would've been so much simpler if all these schemers and the Radiant Conclave had chosen to face you head-on, fair and square. Think of how many needless casualties could've been avoided..." Will sighed, his face weary. If his leader could think that way, then he, who wasn't exactly eager to fight, felt it even more. "Instead, we're saddled with an army so vast and dense that even if we manage to save most of them, tens of millions at the very least will perish. What a tragedy..."

Jake could only nod in agreement. If it were just the Radiant Conclave and a few Players, an Horizon Nuke and it'd be over. But with all these innocents—more fragile than ants to him—he couldn't even use 1% of his strength without causing millions of collateral casualties.

"That's why you're here," Jake answered after a brief pause. "This time, we're fighting together. Let's end this pointless war swiftly. As for the twisted schemes they have in store, we'll dismantle them as they come."

In the stories he'd read back when he was idling around, armies of weaklings often had artifacts or magical formations that let them combine their powers to rival far stronger foes. No such luck here; if those artifacts did exist, they were way too rare, and as for formations, the army usually had to have practiced them in advance. With all these raw recruits, it was a lost cause.

Just as Jake was about to give the order to attack, Enya suddenly reacted,

"What if we propose a one-on-one duel to decide the outcome of the war? If that doesn't suit them, we can accept conditions in their favor. Depends on how confident you are. What do you think, Jake?"

He didn't respond immediately. He'd already considered this plan, but Claire had assured him it would never work. Throughout their history, no duel between high generals had ever settled the outcome of a conflict. They all valued their lives far too highly.

Nevertheless, Jake didn't want to squash her initiative, so he said to Meribelle hovering high in the sky, "Relay our offer to them."

"Right away, but I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you..."

"Just do it."

The Radiant Conclave's camp, still absorbing Lady Faye's uplifting speech, was suddenly interrupted by the descent of a Lifemancer from the sky. Lord Calyx, the first to receive the message, listened intently, then scoffed. He then relayed the proposal to the other Saints and generals.

"What do you all think?"

Lady Faye, not yet fully recovered from Jake's charm, gritted her teeth in humiliation. Lady Lyria grimaced bitterly, crossing her arms and shaking her head, strongly discouraging acceptance. Finally, Master Eldrion, the wisest and most respected of the four Saints, wore a thoughtful frown. After a moment, he said,

"If it were up to me, I'd gladly accept. The problem is that their spies, like our soldiers, believe the Celestial is here among us, ready to hold up the sky if it collapses. If one of us takes up the challenge in his place, they'll realize he's missing, and our morale will take a hit. On the other hand, if this Jake is even half as formidable as you've described, none of us stands a chance in a one-on-one."

Lord Calyx, who had assassinated Great General Winchu and orchestrated the ambush against the Soulmancer King—nearly succeeding—was immediately displeased by such an assessment.

"In a one-on-one, perhaps, but reread their offer," he burst out abruptly, not at all intimidated by this Player. "They give us the freedom to add conditions in our favor. They're desperate."

"Or absolutely confident," Lady Faye sneered. "Believe me, if it's Jake fighting, we're dead. And it's not like we can set a condition prohibiting him from fighting. That would be downright dishonest, and they'd never accept."

Master Eldrion's eyes glittered at these last words. "We can't stop Jake from fighting, and we don't want to die or disappoint the Celestial and our people. If no handicap or numerical advantage can guarantee success, then we have only one solution left: concede this match."

The other Saints and generals wore puzzled expressions, but Lady Lyria's face lit up as she grasped his suggestion. "Multiple matches?"

"Exactly. Ultimately, this duel concerns the fate of far too many people for the outcome of a single fight to decide. We'll propose multiple rounds—not necessarily one-on-one—so our trump cards can be fully played, and at different cultivation levels for fairness. After all, the majority of an army isn't made up of elites but of common soldiers. What do you think?"

A lively debate ensued for a few minutes, which Jake and his companions didn't miss a word of. Enya had her chin up and a proud look, as if she was certain it would work. Jake, by contrast, was calm on the surface, but deep inside he was speechless. I shouldn't have trusted Claire.

Finally, the last round would be between Jake and whoever the opposing camp had the decency to send if victory on points hadn't been decided by then. This fight would be worth five points, for a total of 30 points up for grabs, and it was the only real concession on which the Radiant Conclave had negotiated tooth and nail. Any more points, and they doubted they had any chance of winning in a close match.

08:29

In exchange, they had set another non-negotiable condition: the other replacement Soulmancer King and his men were also required to participate in these duels.

That said, they still had to win the duels, even if it wasn't limited to him anymore. The few hundred Myrtharian Nerds he had on hand were all overtrained and talented. Unsurprisingly, their Lumyst cultivation had skyrocketed in no time. Even the weakest was a Corebearer.

Soon, the Radiant Conclave's response was delivered. Jake, having overheard everything, pretended to listen, then shook his head. "That doesn't work for us."

Another round of negotiations followed where they tweaked the proposed conditions and added new ones. Meribelle sent their revised offer to the Radiant Conclave, who modified it in turn. After a few back-and-forth exchanges, the two camps eventually reached a laborious agreement.

The duels that would determine the outcome of the war and the fate of the two nations would be held over twenty rounds.

Three would be group battles, each worth three points. The first would involve a duel of squads limited to the Pulsar stage, the second a more elite clash involving two platoons limited to the Paladin stage, and a third between platoons also allowing the participation of Radiant Lords.

Five other duels would involve beasts, with no cultivation restrictions. This condition was largely to the advantage of the Radiant Conclave, which had at least one Titan hidden in its ranks. These rounds would be worth one point each.

Eleven of the twelve remaining duels would pit individuals of the same realm against each other: three at the Corebearer realm, three at the Radiant/Spirit Lord realm, and five at the Saint realm. Each of these fights would be worth one point, and both camps agreed to this to give the soldiers unable to participate the feeling that their leaders were, above all, simple warriors fighting for their nation just like them, and that their exploits were no greater than theirs.

Finally, the last round would be between Jake and whoever the opposing camp had the decency to send if victory on points hadn't been decided by then. This fight would be worth five points, for a total of 30 points up for grabs, and it was the only real concession on which the Radiant Conclave had negotiated tooth and nail. Any more points, and they doubted they had any chance of winning in a close match.

In exchange, they had set another non-negotiable condition: the other replacement Soulmancer King and his men were also required to participate in these duels.

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