The Oracle Paths



The thirty-six hours flew by, and exactly thirty-six hours after the ill-fated appearance — or rather demise — of the Rank 2 Privates, a fresh wave of Players debuted in this new realm.

Rank 3 Players, 1st Class Private! Every one of them was a bundle of nerves, anxiously awaiting the lethal dangers that were now a part of their fate, having been unwillingly thrust into a war that was none of their business. But the harsh reality was unbiased, and so...

They too met their doom!

Not a single Rank 3 Player from the two Mirror Universes emerged alive. Soon after, about two thousand souls roamed the battlefield, even before a real battle could commence.

For those who landed in the Duskwight Lands, most were ensnared by the commanding Soulmancers and Spirit Enchanters nearby. However, a few with a keen survival instinct managed to slip away before these demons descended upon them.

What the natives termed as wandering souls were essentially what the Players knew as Spirit Bodies, although often in a damaged state. In this form, fleeing was a breeze.

Freed from gravity and possessing greater speed than when alive, they could glide underground and pass through any obstacle in their path. The cleverest among them even masqueraded as aimless wandering souls, albeit not without its risks.

On the Lustra Plains, the situation was grimmer. Spirit Body or not, there was no escaping the resurrection spells of the Lifemancers. Everyone, without exception, was ruthlessly interrogated to the point of ruing their revival.

Resurrection spells weren't easily cast, though. They required extensive knowledge, mastery from the caster, and a generous portion of Lumyst Water, Lustra Plains' most valuable resource. Only the most skilled Lifemancers could resurrect the dead, and it came at a high cost.

Their willingness to pay this price was solely due to the limited number of Players to resurrect. If the number of invaders surged, they'd have to forgo this interrogation tactic.

And that's precisely what transpired. Thirty-six hours later, marking seventy-two hours since the onset of the Fifth Ordeal, the third wave of Rank 4 Players emerged.

This batch, comprising over fifty thousand Players from each side, arrived under the radar. Yet their end was a spectacular display.

For once again, they too were... crushed to death!

The onset of this Ordeal was horrifying. The number of Player souls in the Duskwight Lands that escaped the Soulmancers kept increasing. Their quality was starkly different from the previous waves.

Being a Rank 4 Corporal was a clear delineation. It meant one of two things: Either these Gamers had completed the Main Missions of their initial four Ordeals with a minimum rating, or they made up the missing points by defeating Digestors on B842.

Either way, they weren't entirely inept and were aware of the risks. They knew they were gambling with death, but took the chance regardless.

Some had meticulously prepared for every possibility, including extreme gravity and even an Ordeal at the ocean's depths. But what they couldn't have anticipated was that upon arriving in this hostile world, their Oracle Space Storages would be sealed off!

All their careful preparations had been rendered useless, and with that, their hopes for survival dashed.

At that moment, a Player on the Lustra Plains was being chased by a group of Radiant Mages. The demise of his physical body went unnoticed, thanks to the unlikely timing of a pee break.

His consciousness awakening to the new surroundings, he found himself mid-relief, quite exposed. The next moment, he was a mere smear, flattened by his own weight.

Before he could even process the events, another Light Warrior who'd ventured into the bushes for, well, bigger business, noticed his ghostly silhouette and freaked out, screaming at the top of his lungs. Next thing, a squad of Radiant Mages was hot on his heels.

It was his first astral flight, and he marveled at his speed. But a quick glance behind sent shivers down his spine; the Radiant Mages were almost upon him.

'Damnit! How are they so fast without relying on Aether in this gravity? If I had my Speed Surge Spell, I'd have shaken them off by now...'He was internally frantic, but outwardly, he could only keep his anguish buried deep within.

Ever since arriving in Twyluxia, his life had turned into a nightmare. Heck, he was technically just a fleeing ghost, and he couldn't even lament in peace.

Going over what his AI updated him with, his expression darkened. As his pursuers relentlessly closed in, he wore a bitter grimace.

'The Aether density of 5,000 units isn't a lie; otherwise, no life could thrive here. The catch is that it's untouchable, as if an unseen law denies us its use. I can't even sense it, but I know it hasn't vanished. And then there's this unbearable gravity!'

Upon hearing the exact figure from his AI, he was flabbergasted. 40 000 times Earth's gravity! Of course, he wasn't from Earth; it was just a figure of speech.

No wonder he got crushed before even taking his first breath on Twyluxia. Suddenly, a gust brushed past him. He whipped his head around, eyes widening in horror as a luminous fist from one of the Radiant Mages slammed into his face.

As his consciousness teetered on the brink of obliteration, the mystery of the vanishing Aether was finally unveiled when the wind from the oncoming fist grazed his skin before the actual blow.

"The Aether... it doesn't vanish. It's absorbed... by matter."

BOOM!

Throughout the battlefield, countless Rank 3 and Rank 4 Players from both factions reached the same conclusions, but those from the Dusknight Lands fared a bit better. Especially those who had fallen near the Lumyst River.

The spectral aura emanating from the waters flowing from the Underworld Cascade was like a soothing tonic to the Spirit Bodies of these freshly defeated Players. As they drew near, their once-stagnant Spirit Body level began to rise again.

Upon discovering this boon, these fortunate Rank 3 and Rank 4 Gamers almost broke down, overwhelmed by emotion. They had another shot at redemption!

Days blurred together, and intense battles between the Dusknight Lands and Lustra Plains truly began. The first wave of combatants consisted of cannon fodder from both sides, inexperienced peasants and militiamen often drafted against their will.

Even in these minor clashes involving just the initial waves of inconsequential draftees, the sheer scale of assets and personnel was staggering, with billions of troops on each side, painting the ground red.

Had these Rank 2, Rank 3, and Rank 4 Gamers survived the crushing gravity of this new world, they'd logically have been part of these early skirmishes, scoring potential heroics before the heavy artillery of each Mirror Universe overshadowed them, relegating them to mere extras.

After the Rank 4 Players, the Rank 5, Rank 6, and Rank 7 Gamers took their turn in the war. Alas, each was flattened by the world's gravity before they could achieve anything noteworthy.

Some lasted minutes, others hours. But all, without exception, met their end—either suffocating under the pressure bearing down on their lungs or their hearts failing, unable to pump blood to their brains. Each became wandering souls, with no other way to stay in the game.

As for those from the Lustra Plains, although unable to harness the spectral aura of the Underworld Cascade, they began scheming in the shadows, biding their time. Their renewed vigor would come when their gravity-enduring allies entered the fray.

At long last, after a grueling twelve days, the largest wave yet, with over three million Eighth Rank Gamers from each side, appeared. And this time, a good number of them... survived.