The Oracle Paths

A few dozen kilometers west of the front where Jake had just ended the bloodshed with a resounding victory, a fortified encampment—much quieter than when they had arrived—continually received updates from various fronts under its jurisdiction.

The sun had long passed its zenith, and a chilly wind carrying the scent of fear and death had begun to sweep across the ramparts, forcing the understaffed garrison to seek shelter. The few sentries on duty, left with no choice but to keep their rounds with wide-open eyes, could only curse their bad luck.

Nevertheless, these soldiers wouldn't trade their places for the world. Guarding this godforsaken hole was admittedly boring and unrewarding, but at least they didn't have to risk their lives.

This was especially true since the Soulmancer King's stand-in had secretly taken residence in their camp. The concentration of elite troops, commanders, and generals from each army had multiplied here in just a few days. At this moment, there was no safer place behind the Ironsoul Rampart than here.

Rumor also had it that the hastily built towering stone bastion to please this mysterious regent king was teeming with foreigners. Another circulating rumor even claimed that the Soulmancer King's stand-in was one of them...

Returning to the stench of indescribable putridity, it didn't come from nowhere. Rivers of blood had already flowed in just a few hours, from both their enemies and brothers-in-arms.

This time of day was always somewhat tense because it was usually when the battles ended, and messengers from the different fronts rushed to report their respective losses. From experience, the sentries could easily guess how the battle had gone today.

A good day? The messengers would gallop at a relaxed pace, unhurried.

A bad day? On the contrary, the messengers would be anxious, their shoulders tense and their faces laden with worry. This was more often the case, and the corpses piled in carts brought back each evening were the most undeniable proof...

That was for ordinary days of combat, those ending neither in total victory nor in fatal defeat. With the arrival of the next batch of conscripts, the battle would resume at dawn as usual.

And what about in the case of resounding victories or defeats? These sentries had no idea... But they were about to find out.

The messengers had just arrived…

Near their city, there were two other minor fronts adjacent to the one held by the Ironsoul Berserker army following Great General Ceythie. Riding monstrous spectral steeds that mirrored their barbaric image, the two messengers were punctual.

Seeing them approach, the sentries took the opportunity to gauge their pace and posture to satisfy their boredom.

"Shoulders tense, downcast faces... Yep! A bad day, but no worse than the previous ones." The guards nodded as they stroked their beards.

Familiar with the two messengers, they let them in after a quick routine check. Only Ceythie's messenger was missing.

A few dozen minutes later…

"... Isn't he late?" A guard hesitated, seeing still no movement of dust from the front's direction.

"And is it just me, or has the stench of the wind faded a bit?" Another sentry commented with a funny expression.

"Now that you mention it... I did find the air more bearable than usual."

As the soldiers stationed on the ramparts and watchtowers began to realize something was amiss, their eyes suddenly bulged with terror upon seeing the sky covered in huge dark winged masses.

Recognizing what it was, their jaws dropped in fright,

"The Vorzhul Legion!" A sentry screamed in disbelief.

Holy shit, what was going on?! This was anything but normal.

The Vorzhul Legion was indeed responsible for coordinating between the different fronts, as well as scouting and air defense, but each Vorzhul Rider was precious. It was very rare to see them serve as messengers, let alone in such numbers.

Because the Soulmancer King's stand-in was rumored to be hiding here, Radahn, the Great General of the Vorzhul Legion, was suspected to be here as well, ensuring his safety. A Vorzhul Rider landing from time to time thus wasn't so rare.

But such a number… Just the thought gave these guards cold sweats.

For a second, the terrified sentries believed these hundreds of winged monsters would charge at them, but the next moment they dispersed towards the different fronts, with the exception of one that continued flying towards them.

VRRRRRRROOOOSSSH!

The creature swept past the top of the ramparts without slowing, the sonic boom from its passage flattening them to the ground, before it landed urgently on the bastion at the center of their camp. The Vorzhul Rider dismounted with a leap from his mount, but didn't go directly to see the stand-in king…

First, he reported what he had just learned to his superior. For that, he went not to the command room where the regent was, but to the aviary set up in the courtyard.

Entering, he found himself enveloped in a heavy, vast darkness, the spectral shimmering of aimlessly wandering souls being the only source of light. Outlined by these supernatural glows, monstrous winged beasts occasionally revealed themselves through their shrill, unsettling cries.

Unafraid, the messenger continued to move deeper into the dimly lit aviary until he stopped in front of the largest nest. A man and a gigantic Vorzhul stood next to each other, their silhouettes submerged in shadow.

"Great General, I have a report to make."

"Speak."

Radahn, who was polishing the scales of his mount with a grinding stone with extreme seriousness, listened impassively to his subordinate's report until the end. When he had finished, he said indifferently,

"I've received the message. Let me handle the rest."

Once his subordinate left, the Great General stopped what he was doing, his purple eyes flashing with an enigmatic glow.

"Ceythie is bolder than I thought to mobilize my Vorzhul Riders without my permission." He chuckled to himself as he headed towards the exit. "But the motivations behind her audacity are what's really interesting. I too, have a choice to make. Anyway. Time to report to this substitute king. His reaction promises to be amusing."

*****

Crack!

When Radahn presented himself for an audience with the substitute king, he realized immediately that he was late. When he pushed the doors of the command room, he discovered that it was already crowded with high-ranking officers and foreigners…

The crack he had just heard was the Soulmancer King's stand-in breaking the armrests of his seat in a fit of rage.

'He didn't keep his cool for long...'

From his makeshift throne, Cho Min Ho was currently white with rage, struggling to maintain his dignified and benevolent facade. His angry face, betrayed very slight signs of panic that none of these experienced generals missed.

Radahn was curious how the foreigner had received the information before him, but recognizing the right hand of Grandmaster Lorentz at his side, his doubts immediately vanished. With the support of the latter, transmitting such information from the battlefield became easy.

For the support of Grandmaster Lorentz made possible the cooperation of Ledger. Or rather, his network of snitch rings. Apparently, the old man and the Abyssal Revenant were on good terms. Their professionalism and obsession were probably what had brought them together.

One might naturally wonder why, in light of its tactical interest, Ledger did not communicate the evolution of the fronts of his own accord, but the reason was actually very simple: He did so only when he deemed it served the interests of the Dusken Throne.

The present case was not one of them. Jake's self-proclamation as the second Soulmancer King and Ceythie's change of allegiance could undoubtedly create all sorts of problems, but for the Dusken Throne and the Duskwight Lands, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

On the contrary. For the other generals, it might not be easy to determine, but Radahn knew the true nature of the Soulmancer King and whose side he was on.

The Vorzhul Rider who had just reported the message was the one charged with maintaining communication with Meribelle, and the least one could say was that compared to this Cho Min Ho, the other foreigner was downright extraordinary.

If one had to follow a false king... Might as well be one worthy of the throne he usurps. For the moment, this Cho Min Ho had shown nothing of the sort, if not his incredible ability to rally all these foreigners and a sense of strategy not inferior to that of their best strategists.

In another context, that might have been enough, but here and now, where their people were backed against the wall, they especially needed a leader of unparalleled power and ferocity.

At that moment, the Korean must have realized he had made a mistake by losing his cool, because he suddenly became eerily calm all at once. Immediately afterward, his hawk-like gaze swept the audience before coldly locking onto the imposing general who had just entered.

"Radahn, it seems there has been a misunderstanding between us."