The Oracle Paths - Chapter 1085
Chapter 1085 Let's Have A Good Fight
As the two pranksters geared up for their maiden bath in enemy territory, the other Myrtharian Nerds were also out and about, either on defense or on the offense. Even though the world was too vast for them to coordinate in such a short time, they all shared a similar wavelength, each brimming with intelligence and ambition.
In one of the tributaries to the north of Twyluxia, a stunning and cold Nereid with long, seaweed-blue hair was meditating, her eyes closed at the river's bottom. While downstream the river's purity might be questionable, such a sight would stun any native. Yet, for those familiar with the Eltarian leader, this was the least they could expect from her.
Between her hands, Asfrid currently held a peculiar shell, constantly emitting subtle spiritual ripples that spread through the watery milieu she hid in and far beyond.
Suddenly, the spiritual fluctuations from the artifact surged dramatically, and a smile lit up the serene face of the young woman.
"Finally, the Spirit Shell is enchanted to +3. Just a bit more, and if the other Eltarians think like me, we'll soon be able to restore our Spirit Link." She nodded to herself, cautiously swimming upstream without ever surfacing.
Since Faction Chat was rendered useless, restoring the Spirit Link was their top top concern right now. While separated, members of their clan could easily get picked off by the enemy, but once they could coordinate, it'd be a whole different ball game...
In a style starkly contrasting that of Asfrid, yet with the same end goal in mind, twin sisters of otherworldly grace walked side by side through a desolate forest, leading a cohort of several hundred: all Myrtharian Nerds.
But not just any Nerds. In addition to a few wives and concubines of Ulfar, there were several Beskyrians, like his son, Skorgeld. The burly dude with features mixed between Asian and Viking trailed right behind his father's latest conquests - Nyx and Eris - with a brooding expression.
When he, like all other Beskyrians, had resorted to relying on luck instead of the now-defunct Oracle System to find his comrades, he'd never imagined stumbling upon these twin beauties before his buddies. Although seemingly charming and flirty at first, these women were batshit crazy deep down.
Unlike the rest, they didn't give a damn about rounding up the remaining Myrtharian Nerds; they just wanted to find their 'husband.' The thing was, the King of Beskyr, like Lucia, was nowhere to be found.
Because of their high Corruption levels, they'd been shipped off somewhere with other Corrupted and potential Digestor Trojans teetering on the edge of losing control. No one knew where that place was, but it certainly wasn't on Twulyxia, or their luck would've at least pointed them in the right direction.
Annoying as the twins might be, he had to admit they were a force to be reckoned with. Their skills were odd but extremely useful. For instance…
Nyx suddenly halted, signaling the procession behind her to stop. With her jet-black hair tied back in a simple ponytail, deep blue eyes, angular face, and pronounced cheekbones, she was an austere kind of beautiful. But right now, the supernatural glow pulsating behind her eyes intensified that demeanor.
Eris, identical in every way except for her bright emerald eyes and constant smile, immediately caught onto her sister's grave expression.
"Another attack?" she asked wearily.
Skorgeld had already drawn his battleaxe, ready for a fight. "Bring it on! We'll slice them up just like the last ones!"
Nyx's icy blue eyes flared even more intensely, and she declared ominously, "… Our fate darkens."
Skorgeld, Eris, and the other Myrtharian Nerds who had heard her utter such words before instantly paled. The last time she'd said that was just days ago, before an unprecedented assault of Space Digestors on their Floating Islands.
The time before that was mere hours before the defection of the Myrmidian Asthenes, which had disastrous consequences for the loyal members who remained in their faction.
And the time before that was minutes after Jake, Lucia, and Ulfar left for Thelma four years ago… It underscored how seriously these warnings should be taken.
"EVERYONE, BATTLE POSITIONS!" Skorgeld bellowed without hesitation.
The other Myrtharian Nerds didn't need to be told twice, and good thing they heeded the call. For within three seconds, thousands of Players from the Lustra Plains, each more formidable than the last, swooped down on them, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. The ambush was flawlessly coordinated!
It would take at least that much to defeat a group of Myrtharian Nerds led by Nyx and Eris, two Rank 15 Players.
The group led by Eris and Nyx wasn't the only one to endure such an onslaught. At the border between the Duskwight Lands and Lustra Plains, to the far south of the continent, a certain dark-skinned giant with long silver hair also found himself facing a surprise attack.
"The fuck are you?" Gerulf grumbled, half-opening an irritated eye, not letting it interrupt his nightly mud bath.
Hundreds of blades and various projectiles had just shattered against his skin, trying to turn him into a pin cushion. His body remained unscathed, for the most part, but his makeshift 'bed' was utterly destroyed.
Unlike most of the other passive Players, he had simply followed his instincts in search of the richest and most comfortable ground to bury himself in. It turned out such ground wasn't in the Duskwight Lands. He'd stopped halfway, by the nearest river, to bask in a short nap, but it seemed even that respite wasn't allowed...
"Those who will bring your end," an alien voice, reminiscent of crashing ocean waves, echoed in his dirt-filled ears.
Merely the sound of that voice seemed to liquefy the mud clogging his ears, turning it from slightly muddy to sludge almost as fluid as the river's water a few meters away from him. Had it been regular water, he might've continued to snooze without a care, forgetting they even existed. However, the moment it touched his skin, a piercing pain forced his eyes wide open.
Gerulf instinctively blasted the shoreline and the surrounding river in a deafening eruption of lava and light, then ominously stood up, resting a massive greatsword that looked like it was forged in hell itself on his shoulder.
"You were saying?" The Kintharian growled between his massive protruding fangs, his golden eyes spewing dazzling red beams non-stop.
The adversarial Player who'd interrupted his nap gazed apathetically at the terrain reshaped by the enemy and then instructed his allies,
"Fall back. This one's mine."
The Players under his command didn't consider protesting for a second. With a nod, they retreated into the shadows, pursuing their next targets.
Alone now, the Player forsaken by his teammates emerged from the river's surface, revealing a translucent body with indistinct contours, entirely made of water. The watery alien then addressed his formidable opponent with a tone now tinged with anticipatory excitement,
"I see now why my Shadow Guide led me to you. Anyone else but me would've struggled immensely against you at this early stage of the Ordeal where our powers are nerfed. Too bad for you, you had to nap so close to the Lumyst River. You have only yourself to blame. Now... Let's have a good fight."
Whether it was Gerulf, Rogen, Drastan, Maeve, Hade, Azeus, Galadin, or any of the other Myrtharian Nerds' powerhouses, be it solo or in groups, the moment they set out to take a dip in the Lumyst River, they were inevitably targeted by foe Players. The real question was only when and in what sequence.
The foe ambush might not spring on them tonight, but every one of these ambushes was bound to succeed... After all, they had their Oracle Paths ensuring their strategies went off without a hitch, while their adversaries were bafflingly stripped of theirs...
And regrettably, it had to be acknowledged that not all their Players, let alone the ones from King's Idol Alliance, were as big of catches as the unkillable Gerulf. Ineluctably, many of the unlucky ones targeted first didn't take long to drop like flies...
In theory, this nocturnal counter-offensive near every tributary of the Lumyst River was foolproof and had zero chance of failing. Victory was in the bag! And the slaughter of foe Players since the start of the Ordeal only bolstered this confidence.
Alas for them... it only took a single monkey wrench to screw up a meticulously crafted plan. And that 'monkey wrench' was none other than Jake.