Chapter 656: The Oracle and the Chosen One
A woman’s voice arrived directly in his mind. “Speak freely. What has happened above?”
He didn’t need to open his mouth — only to form his thoughts, and they were received. This manner of communication had been strange at first. Now he found it faster than speech. It also made concealment nearly impossible; the Oracle received everything he formed in his mind, including the thoughts he did not intend to share.
He gave his report without embellishment. “Holy Oracle, something unexpected occurred. They declined the Ambassador of Graycastle’s invitation. This failure is mine. I underestimated how deeply their guard has settled.”
She did not reproach him. “People’s hearts are difficult to anticipate. Do you have a remedy?”
“They’ll accept eventually. It’s only a matter of time.” He paused. “His Majesty Appen Moya’s new policy is accelerating things.”
“Tut.” A sound of quiet disapproval. “Common man.”
He tensed. “How may I serve you, Holy Oracle?”
“I dislike this witch-removal policy. Can you guarantee no one will be harmed?”
The question reached him before he’d had time to compose an answer, and what the Oracle received in his mind was the unguarded truth: he knew that once the policy was enacted, some witches would be caught. Some would be killed. The Oracle’s instruction had been to drive the witches southward toward the Western Region of Graycastle, not to ensure their survival along the way.
“Is that what you think?” The Oracle’s voice sharpened. All her tendrils moved at once, a ripple that traveled from the wall downward, and the lava beneath them surged in answer to her agitation. “Don’t forget what I told you. Before the doomsday, every witch is essential!”
His thought had reached her before he could shape it into something more diplomatic. He moved quickly to repair the impression. “No, Holy Oracle — I remember every word. I have no wish to see innocents harmed. But proceeding without casualties requires time and new arrangements. Not everyone has the courage to defy the king’s law, and they must be kept in ignorance of the larger plan. Restructuring will take effort.”
She recovered quickly. “I’ll send my guards to assist you. How long will you need?”
He exhaled. He had seen her guards at work. They moved at speeds that ordinary knights could not track, let alone counter; two or three of them together could overwhelm twenty knights without difficulty. “Two weeks to complete the third step of the plan.”
“Then do it.”
“Holy Oracle.” He hesitated, then asked anyway. “Are the witches truly that indispensable? Couldn’t a different Chosen One — someone with wealth or influence, someone positioned to act more broadly—”
“The deities seek a Chosen One who can wield divine power directly,” she interrupted. “Not a secular representative. Wealth and power have no use when the doomsday arrives. Common man, you are useful — genuinely so — and when the mission is complete, you will be rewarded appropriately. Immortality, among other things. But you must understand your position within this.”
He did understand it, even if the understanding chafed. Every four hundred years the Blood Moon rose, and the Gates of Hell opened, and demons poured across the land. The Chosen One — someone with the capacity to connect to the divine power the deities offered — was the only answer to it. And that someone had to be a witch.
“Are you certain,” he pressed gently, “that the Chosen One is among the witches in Graycastle?”
The Oracle went silent. An unusual silence for her — he could feel the weight of it. Then: “No. This is not certain. It’s another attempt in a long series of attempts. We have searched this way for hundreds of years.”
“And if this one fails?”
“We continue searching. Until the doomsday consumes the world entirely.”
It would mean nothing to be immortal in a world with no one left in it. He smiled inwardly — a bitter, private thing — and said, “I understand. I’ll do everything in my power to complete the task.”
Her tendrils stirred — all of them at once, slowly, a motion that communicated satisfaction the way the surging lava had communicated anger.
“One more matter.” Her voice carried something that might have been curiosity, or caution. “Is it confirmed that the church was truly defeated?”
The news of Coldwind Ridge had reached the Kingdom of Dawn weeks ago, and the Oracle had wanted it verified rather than assumed. She’d sent Banach’s men to the battlefield itself.
“Yes. The ground near Coldwind Ridge looks as though demonic beasts fought there — craters, trenches, no living thing. Thousands of graves were raised by the King of Graycastle to honor his own dead; the church’s fallen were buried where they lay. Merchants coming down from the Hermes Plateau report that the Holy City is silent. Empty of the prosperity that used to define it.”
When he finished, the Oracle’s voice went soft. “This is their end.” A pause. Then, more briskly: “That will do for today. I’m tired.”
“Yes, Holy Oracle.” He bowed.
The underground vision dissolved as abruptly as a wave pulling back from shore. The stone room returned, dark for a moment, then flickering back to life as the Magic Stones relit themselves.
It had the quality of a dream from which one has only just woken.
One of the guards approached and placed a porcelain bottle in his hands. “The medicine for this period. The Oracle was pleased with your recent work.”
“Thank her for me.” His voice came out rough with gratitude. He drank without pause.
A warmth spread from his stomach outward, reaching his joints, his hands, the place behind his eyes where fatigue always settled first. The rejuvenation it produced was temporary — it would not extend his life by a single day — but it was real. Three years ago he had needed a wheelchair pushed by a servant to move from room to room. Now he could walk. That was not nothing.
The Oracle had been transparent with him about its limitations, which paradoxically strengthened his faith in her. A fraud offering magic medicine would promise transformation, transcendence. She promised only repair — the body’s vigor restored, fatigue relieved, the pain of the final transformation made survivable. Honesty about what it could not do made it easier to believe in what it could.
He rose and lifted the curtain, stepping out onto the rock stairs. The damp wind from the underground river hit him, and where it had felt like oppression on the way in, it felt like weather now. He walked with his head up. His steps were certain on the stone. The roaring below him — the vast water crashing through the dark — sounded less like whispers of ruin and more like something that would carry him forward.
Chapter 656: The Oracle and the Chosen One
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
A female voice directly appeared in Banach’s mind. “Please feel free to talk to me. What happened above?”
Instead of speaking, he only needed to whisper in his heart to give the answer. He found that although this way of communicating was hard to get used to in the beginning, it was actually a faster and more effective way. Meanwhile, he also found it harder to lie in this way.
Banach told the oracle what had happened through his thoughts. “Holy oracle, something unexpected happened. They didn’t accept the invitation from Ambassador of Graycastle. This is my mistake. I didn’t expect that it would be so hard for them to drop their guard.”
The oracle did not blame him but said wistfully, “it’s hard to predict what people are thinking. Do you have any remedial measure?”
“They’ve got to accept the ambassador’s invitation. It’s just a matter of time.” He paused for a moment. “Because of His Majesty Appen Moya’s new policy.”
“Tut… common man.”
Banach was startled and asked, “what can I do for you, holy oracle?”
“I don’t like this witch removal policy. Can you guarantee that nobody will be hurt?”
“I…” Banach did not know what to say, because he knew that once this policy was implemented, it would be inevitable that some witches were caught or even killed. Given that the oracle had only ordered him to drive the
witches to go southwards into the Western Region of Graycastle without ensuring the safety of their lives, he thought it would be none of his business to care about how many would survive during the journey.
“Is this what you think?” The oracle raised her voice in a sudden. All her tentacles wriggled and the underground hot lava started to surge, showing her anger. “Don’t forget what I said. Before the doomsday, every witch is crucial!”
From the way she reacted, Banach gathered something had gone wrong and then realized that he had been talking with her through the thoughts. In this way, everything he thought would be directly transmitted to her. He quickly explained, “no, holy oracle, I remember every word you’ve said. I don’t want to hurt anyone innocent, either, but if I do it that way, it’ll take a longer time and require rearrangement of my people. After all, not everyone has the courage to defy the king’s rules and at the same time keeps this secret.”
The oracle quickly replied, “I’ll send my guards to help you. How long will it take?”
Banach breathed a sigh of relief, as he had witnessed those guards’ abilities. Generally speaking, knights were not able to compete with them at all, and some less capable ones could not even see their movements clearly. If two or three guards fought together, they could easily defeat 20 to 30 knights, which also showed the extraordinary power of the oracle.
“I can complete the third step of the plan in two weeks.”
“All right, just do it.”
“Holy oracle…” Banach hesitated and continued. “Are the witches that important? Do the deities only bless them? In terms of wealth or power, I’ll make a better—”
The oracle interrupted, “a better choice for the Chosen One? You’ve got no idea. Neither wealth nor power will be useful when the doomsday is approaching. The deities are looking for a savior who knows how to use the divine power instead of a secular spokesman. Common man, you’re helpful,
indeed, so when the mission is completed, I’ll give you an appropriate reward, such as immortality, but you also need to recognize your own position.”
Banach knew about the doomsday. Every 400 years, a bloody moon would appear in the sky and then the Gates of Hell would open. Demons would come swarming out of the gates, slaughtering the human beings across the continent, and the person who could resist these cruel enemies was the Chosen One. Today, he knew more about the Chosen One through the talk with the oracle. She seemed to be searching for someone who can directly connect to the powerful deities and this someone must be a witch.
Not wanting to give up now, he asked again, “but… are you sure that the Chosen One was definitely among the witches in the Kingdom of Graycastle?”
The oracle remained speechless for a while, which was an unusual thing. After that, she said, “no one knows the answer. This is just another try, and we’ve tried this for many times in the past hundreds of years.”
“What if we still can’t find the one this time?”
“We’ll keep searching until the doomsday when the human world is completely destroyed.”
Thinking that it would be meaningless to become immortal if all the human beings died, Banach smiled bitterly and promised, “I see, I’ll do my best to complete the task.”
All the sarcoma’s tentacles danced simultaneously, which indicated that the oracle was content. “Here’s another thing I want to ask… Is the church really defeated?”
Since the news that the church had suffered a crushing defeat had reached the Kingdom of Dawn, the oracle had paid particular attention to this issue. She had even ordered Banach to send his men to the Coldwind Ridge to confirm it.
“Yes, at the foot of the Coldwind Ridge, the battlefield looked as if it had been trampled by demonic beasts, with deep pits and trenches everywhere. Around it stood thousands of grave mounds. According to the locals, they were built by the King of Graycastle. He had bought all the dead bodies of his soldiers back to the Western Region and burnt and buried all the church’s dead people at the spot. Merchants who came back from the Hermes Plateau told us that prosperity had already left the Holy City and there was only a dead silence in it.”
Hearing this, the oracle’s voice instantly turned soft. “This is their end…” After a moment, she quickly recovered and said, “that’s all for today’s conversation. I’m tired.”
“Yes, holy oracle,” Banach bowed and said.
The underground scene went out like ebbing tides, quickly leaving them in darkness. The Magic Stones flickered several times and then lit up the stone room.
Everything that had happened was just like a dream now.
A guard came up to Banach and gave him a porcelain bottle, saying, “here’s the medicine for this time. Drink it. Holy oracle was very pleased with your recent work.”
“Th-Thanks, your holy oracle.” With great excitement, Banach took the bottle and swigged down all the liquid inside it.
Right after this, he felt a warm torrent flow out of his stomach to rejuvenate his whole body. This medicine could make him feel dexterous and quick in action, but this effect would not last for a very long time. It could not make him live longer, either. Based on what the oracle had said, it could only improve his health and relieve fatigue and restore the body’s vigour in a short time. She had said that before he was bestowed immortality, he needed to take this medicine to mend his weak body. Otherwise, the great pain during the process of turning into an immortal would tear him into pieces.
Her honesty in telling him the truth about this medicine further strengthened his faith in her, as he believed that if this was a fraud, she would only need to offer him this magic medicine whose rejuvenating effect could attract lots of noble men and wealthy merchants like him.
Three years ago, he had had to move around sitting in a wheelchair pushed by a servant. Now, at least, he could stand and walk on his two feet. This was the improvement the medicine had brought him.
He was confident that if he could get immortality after completing the mission the oracle had given him, all the knotty problems he had now would be solved smoothly.
He lifted the curtain door and walked toward the rock stairs of the hill with his back straight and his head held erect.
Feeling totally different from the time he had walked to the stone room, now he felt energetic even in the humid cold winds. His steps were steady, and the roaring underground river sounded like horns encouraging him to move forward.