The Oracle Paths

Chapter 1198  A Thin Thread of Mercy

The man in question was the very embodiment of an Underworld Barbarian—if one focused solely on raw, primal savagery. Standing close to ten feet tall, with the build of a wardrobe, biceps as thick as an overweight man's thighs, yet possessing the lean and wiry physique of a feral cat. He was built for violence, and everything about him screamed that he relished it.

Like many other barbarians, he shared the same tribal culture, viewing war and plunder as part and parcel of daily life. The Wargod Raiders he commanded were originally a ragtag band of belligerent bandits preying on weaker tribes. With the rise of the Soulmancer King and the onset of war, he'd found the perfect gig—allowing him to continue excelling at what he did best, all while being hailed as a hero for it. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

After years of warfare, his gray skin was riddled with scars, and his shaved head accentuated his cruel, purple eyes. His dark, bushy beard matched the rest of him: imposing and filthy. The grime was mostly dried blood, giving it a disconcerting, blood-red hue. Add to that his dark plate armor covered in bloodstained spikes and the enormous axe resting heavily on his shoulder, and you had the perfect image of a hulking brute.

Yet, that wasn't what made him memorable. On his fingers were all sorts of rings, and around his neck hung various love pendants typically worn by women far more coquettish than he'd ever be. Because these rings were from individuals much smaller than him, they were worn on his upper knuckles, giving his hands a disturbingly flashy appearance.

Because, in addition to being bloodthirsty and a part-time pillager, the barbarian didn't just like stealing objects—he enjoyed robbing his victims of their very joy. Nothing satisfied him more than seeing the despair in the eyes of a happy couple who would've remained so if not for his arrival. It was sadism in its purest form, and every time he destroyed such a nest of happiness, he never forgot to keep a trophy...

That's why, when he caught sight of Ekho's bloodshot eyes, seething with murderous rage fixed on one of his hands, Great General Sheanu smirked.

"Hmm? Who was it? Mother, sister?" the barbarian tossed out nonchalantly. "Daughter? No, judging by that look... a wife?"

Seeing the recruit's face turn a blotchy shade of purple, the warrior burst into booming laughter.

"Hahaha! I knew it! It's always the same reaction." Immediately after his observation, his expression shifted to icy coldness without any warning. "So... you want revenge? Too bad, you're too weak."

Jake and his companions could feel his contempt, as well as the humiliation, guilt, and hatred threatening to overwhelm Ekho. Witnessing his state, they all scowled, their expressions turning hostile.

Since Yerode and Lamine, they hadn't directly dealt with such unforgivable scum. Bhuzkoc didn't count; nearly all the males of his race behaved that way.

In their squad, everyone was aware of the animosity between the alcoholic and Sheanu, but they didn't know all the details. All they knew was that his tribe had been completely wiped out and that the melancholy, inebriated young man was the sole survivor. After that incident, he'd sunk into alcoholism, letting himself waste away until forced conscription pulled him out of his slow agony.

Battles alongside Jake had given him hope that he could become stronger and one day avenge his loved ones. But now, standing before the source of his nightmares, the harsh reality hit him like a ton of bricks. The one who had tortured and murdered his wife and sisters and massacred everyone he'd grown up with didn't even remember him...

He burned with the desire to throw caution to the wind and attack, but his survival instincts held him back. In the end, he was the same coward as before. The only reason he was still alive was because, instead of fighting alongside his people, he'd hidden away... And even now, he couldn't bring himself to act, paralyzed by the fear of death.

Just as his self-esteem threatened to crumble forever, someone clapped a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he met Jake's impassive gaze.

"You want me to take him out?"

It was as simple as that. Ekho's eyes widened as his brain processed the outrageous offer his leader had just made.

"You can?" he murmured, hardly daring to believe it.

"I can." Jake nodded coolly. "I wouldn't do it for just anyone, but you're part of my squad. And for personal reasons... I despise scum like him."

The other generals struggled to grasp the gravity of the situation, but the expressions of Cho Min Ho and the other Players present darkened, sensing that a catastrophe was about to unfold.

"Jake, don't do this," the leader of King's Idol Alliance warned in a strained voice. "This isn't the time."

He was referring to their private discussion from the previous night. To face the Blade Spirit, they needed to preserve their combat strength as much as possible.

"Even if it affects my rating, I won't spare such filth," Jake declared coldly. "And someone I can crush with a single finger isn't essential to the final battle."

The verbal exchange between the two Oracle Knights was polite, but this time even the slowest generals finally grasped the dire situation. A horrifying spiritual pressure had begun radiating from the group of intruders, crushing their chests despite themselves.

The main target of this barely-contained killing intent had also dropped his arrogant demeanor, replaced by an overwhelming sense of danger in his heart. His hairs stood on end, palms sweaty, pupils contracted as if facing a Titan. No, something even more terrifying!

Jake calmly raised his palm toward Sheanu, ready to deliver his judgment. The barbarian, sweating bullets, gripped the handle of his axe so tightly his knuckles turned white, feeling the reaper's scythe inexorably closing around his neck.

If there was one quality you could grant him, it was that the bandit had guts. Even powerless, even condemned, he forced himself to lock eyes with his executioner, showing a courage that the victim who initiated his sentence lacked. In the end, that's what saved him.

Not the other generals, petrified with terror. Not the Players drenched in sweat, gritting their teeth. And certainly not the fake Soulmancer King to whom he had recently sworn allegiance, who merely watched the impending execution coldly without intervening.

What saved him was his tenacity in the face of an invincible adversary. When Ekho saw this, it hit him like a cold shower, his hatred receding to make way for clarity.

As Jake was about to crush Sheanu's soul, the young native grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-action.

"Are you sure about this?" Jake asked flatly, staring at him with a stern gaze.

"Absolutely certain." Ekho scowled, his once-bleary eyes gleaming with lucidity for the first time.

He had been sober from alcohol since that morning, but it was only now that he truly felt it. The fog that had weighed him down had finally lifted.

His hatred hadn't vanished, but he could once again envision a future—a future where he'd exact his revenge with his own hands. Only then could he conquer the demons he'd accumulated within.

Jake finally lowered his hand, then patted the grieving recruit's shoulder once more. He cast a disdainful glance at the Great General who'd just been spared, a hint of regret on his face.

"Consider yourself lucky," he said begrudgingly. "Don't give me another reason to deal with you."

"It won't happen," Sheanu promised through clenched teeth. Now that he'd been spared, all that remained was humiliation... and fear. Afraid of provoking him again, he stared intently at the table, not daring to meet his gaze.

Jake and his companions then returned to sizing up the other generals present, remembering why they had come. Most were commanders-in-chief of various fronts, but only two individuals were worth noting: Great General Radahn and the new leader of the Protectors. His predecessor, Great General Winchu, had been killed by Lord Calyx during the surprise assault on Havocspire Citadel aimed at assassinating Claire.

Radahn greeted him calmly with an approving nod. The commander of the Vorzhul Legion was the only Great General still alive besides Ceythie, whose status was indisputable. His strength needed no further proof, as did his loyalty to the Dusken Throne. That he'd side with Cho Min Ho was unlikely.

The replacement appointed after Winchu's death looked like a hulking brute like Sheanu, but his gaze was sharp and calculating. The Soulmancer King's ambush at Havocspire Citadel could never have succeeded if Winchu hadn't been killed and then so easily impersonated by Lord Calyx. Consequently, his replacement had been chosen from among the most formidable living generals.

He was both an experienced Master Soulmancer and a Spirit Saint. Instead of armor, he wore a robe that moved like a velvet shadow, and his weapon was a bone scepter set with a sinisterly glowing purple gem.

Like Sheanu, he too had sworn allegiance to Cho Min Ho and even joined the King's Idol Alliance.