The Oracle Paths

The mood of the Myrtharian Nerds plummeted drastically after their leader's speech. With the majority of those who perished during the Ordeal, the overall atmosphere had become considerably darker, almost funereal.

This kind of ambiance was not ideal for catching up and discussing. Several winners of the Ordeal, such as Aurum and Hephais, had been staring at Will for a while, raising their eyebrows as if they were trying to convey a silent message.

The merchant had long noticed the insistent looks from several of his companions, but due to the inappropriate atmosphere, he didn't know how to approach the topic. When Will finally mustered the courage to clear his throat and gain some time, someone saved him from his predicament.

"Ahem-"

"What the fuck! My Myrtharian Body Passive is gone!" A Myrtharian Nerd suddenly exclaimed, scrolling through the interface listing his Faction Skills.

Since his return, this Player had felt weaker than he should be. He no longer felt the usual hot and cold sensations, but upon exiting the Red Cube, he had felt the caress of the fresh air in this vast, hyper-ventilated room.

Obviously, this kind of air conditioning couldn't make someone shiver, let alone make a post Fourth-Ordeal Player sick. However, the fact that he could sense the air was colder than usual was unusual enough to be noted.

Evolvers at his level had superhuman perception, and and their instincts were as sharp as the edge of a blade. Sensing something was amiss, he quickly traced the source and discovered that his stats were once again being calculated with a standard coefficient.

Now that someone had mentioned it, other Myrtharian Nerds soon reacted.

"Hmm, he's right! My hair has returned to its original brown!" Another Player exclaimed.

"Idiot, there's something more obvious than hair color, tsk. Even my short, translucent claws have turned back into ordinary nails..."

"Noooooo!"

The howl of anguish ripped through the air, piercing the silence like a knife. It came from a cute Myrmidian woman, her attire and makeup rivaling that of any pop icon or club diva. She was one of the many who had effortlessly embraced the futuristic technology and beauty enhancements that were nonexistent in her former life, such as fake nails.

But once those glossy tips were clipped, the lady's existential crisis unfolded, as her newly shortened nails seemed to be an insult to her former self, reminiscent of a faded glory that could never be regained.

Her case was obviously extreme, but other Players were also disappointed with their appearance changes, while others welcomed the return to normal.

"My fair white skin is back," The Throsgenian warrior exclaimed, his voice filled with a euphoria that made him seem like he had just won the lottery.

While his friend complained, "Fair skin is good, but I feel like I've lost some muscle too," as he stared at himself in a pocket mirror with a feminine delicacy that clashed with his brutish appearance.

Suddenly, a slap landed on the back of the second Throsgenian's head, causing his mirror to crash onto the ground and shatter into a million pieces. Yet, no one flinched at the sound, as if it were just the shattering of glass and not a reflection of their own fragile egos. The victim of the slap snarled and bared his fangs, his primal instincts taking over in an instant.

Witnessing all these reactions and comments, Will massaged his forehead to relieve his budding headache but also sighed with relief. Turning to Jake, he asked embarrassingly,

"Jake, about the missing Faction Skill... When do you plan to take care of it?"

He dared not mention that he and Lucia, along with the other victorious Players, had raised this issue in the Faction Chat more than a year ago. But their leader, too focused on his training, was oblivious to it. They could have reached out to him through his Oracle Device, but they lacked the gumption to do so, fearing to disturb his concentration.

Jake felt an immediate pang of guilt, realizing his negligence and irresponsibility. However, his companions were also culpable for not reminding him of the matter earlier. In this regard, they all shared the blame.

Yet, this was neither the place nor the time to resolve the issue of which Faction Skill to choose. Besides, Players from other factions were continuously streaming out of the Red Cube, filling up the spacious room. Will and the others had also noticed the problem, and with a silent accord, Hade suggested,

"Shall we postpone this discussion for later?"

"Sure..."

The 2,700-odd Myrtharian Nerds who were blocking the way orderly moved towards the exit, but as they were about to pass through the automated door, Jake found himself face to face with an unknown and intimidating alien.

Four meters tall, four arms, a silver-metallic armor adorned with lines and patterns emitting a faint blue light, a helmet reminiscent of the Greek phalanx, but with a completely opaque visor...

Jake's and several other Myrtharian Nerds' eyes widened in astonishment, as if they had just been hit by a bucket of ice in the middle of a nap.

An Oracle Guardian!

What kind of cosmic coincidence was this? And why was he barring their path like a boulder in a river?

As the regiment of 2,700 players came to a screeching halt, the alien before them remained impassive, scanning each of them with a steely gaze before finally fixing on the striking figure of Jake Wilderth, with his flowing black hair, fairy wings, and unearthly complexion.

"Jake Wilderth?" the Oracle Guardian rasped in a cold, deep voice, confirming his identity.

Jake's eyes narrowed at the sound of his full name, but he remained cool and composed.

"Is there something you want from me?" He inquired calmly.

Instead of answering his question, the Oracle Guardian immediately began reciting the short message he had been charged with delivering, in a monotone voice with an Oraclean accent as sharp as a knife.

"His Highness, Oracle Overseer Oros, will hold a ceremony, as he does every week, at his Oracle Palace in Thelma to congratulate and canonize the new Oracle Knights, but also to inform them of their future privileges and duties. As a new Oracle Knight, you and up to three of your chosen subordinates are invited to this ceremony. Because His Highness is a devout practitioner of sleeping in, ahem... I mean meditative contemplation, the ceremony will be held tomorrow at 3 p.m. End of message."

Jake and the others remained silent.

What kind of Oracle Overseer whose Aether Constitution and Vitality were likely in the millions still needed to sleep this late? It was clearly an excuse to work less.

Jake had no problem with this ceremony. It seemed a bit excessive to be congratulated by the Oracle Overseer in person for a mere noble title, but in retrospect, it was understandable.

Even though thousands, if not millions, of fourth Ordeals were held every day on B847, the number of Oracle Knights promoted during them must be ridiculously low. After all, to become an Oracle Knight, Jake had aced his last three Ordeals, including his Fourth, which gathered the elites of an entire system.

One could argue that it was not necessary to have such an impeccable performance to obtain such a title, but since only his name had been mentioned by the Oracle Guardian, there was no doubt that these titles were not distributed lightly.

Otherwise, Lucia, Gerulf, and the other Quanoth winners who had also performed excellently in their previous four Ordeals would have been promoted as well.

After a short pause, Jake calmly replied, "I'll be there."

"..."

Time passed, but the Oracle Guardian did not move, making the situation awkward for everyone. It should not be forgotten that because of this alien, they were still blocking the exit.

"Cough, anything else?" Jake cleared his throat loudly to snap him out of his daze.

"I'm not daydreaming," the Oracle Guardian snorted disdainfully. Unexpectedly, he was perfectly awake. He had simply chosen to stand still deliberately.

'Now, that's awkward,' Jake lamented inwardly.

Trying to remain polite, he inquired cautiously, "In that case... may I know if we can leave?"

"Hmm? All right."

The Oracle Guardian stepped aside from their path, and at that moment, Jake and the others noticed the three androids that strongly resembled him, both in appearance and equipment. For the other Myrtharian Nerds, it was their first contact with this technology, but Jake immediately put a name to these robots: Model TX138.

He had just heard about them in the VIP Ordeal Store! Who would have thought he would encounter them so soon? When it came to the Oracle, Jake no longer believed in coincidences, and he could feel the shaft coming.

Still, Jake took advantage of the fact that the passage was finally clear and walked towards the complex's exit. To his greatest surprise, the Oracle Guardian and the three TX138 models began following them. This immediately gave Jake and the other Myrtharian Nerds cold sweats.

What was going on? With an increasingly ugly expression, Jake stopped and glared at the Oracle Guardian in a bad mood.

"What now?" He complained as politely as possible. It wasn't easy to keep his cool in front of such a big shot.

Still unperturbed, the Oracle Guardian reported, " These TX138 and I have been commanded to tail you like a shadow and monitor your every move. Think of it as four bodyguards offered on a silver platter. "