The Jester of Apocalypse
Chapter 88: Thrive

Neave sat in the middle of the room, eyeing his allies. They had just explained what they had been doing, and he couldn’t believe it. "You… So you have basically been decorating? Oh, so, I tell you all that you better get used to discomfort as soon as possible, and the first fucking thing you do is go off and try to make yourselves as comfortable as possible!?"

Marven looked up, "Neave, that isn’t—"

"Shut the fuck up, geezer, I’m the one talking now!” He declared with an accusatory finger pointing at his father. “I respect that you at least tried building a wall, but…" Neave turned to Dukea. "Dude, you have an earth manipulation spirit power. Why didn’t you use that?"

The boy merely raised an eyebrow at that. "You’ve… seen me use the power already. I can barely force this stone to reshape. The obsidian roots run through all the walls, which makes them unbelievably tough and difficult to affect with my spirit power. Sure, I can easily lift and carry the earth, but shape it? That’s out of my reach."

"Huh?” Neave stared at him, flabbergasterd. “Why don’t you just evolve your power?"

"Evol–!?” He jumped. “Are you out of your mind, Neave!?"

"Absolutely yes!"

Dukean sighed, "Even with rounded cores, I can barely defeat the trial as is! There are five gold-rank monsters in my spirit trial. If I add a monster of platinum rank, I will die!"

Now it was Neave’s turn to raise an eyebrow. "How?"

Dukean had a look of absolute disbelief seared into his face, "Because… it will become a platinum rank threat?” He asked cautiously, glancing at the others for confirmation that he wasn’t misunderstanding something and receiving nothing but confused shrugs in response.

Neave squinted his eyes at Dukean. "Monster ranks don’t work like cultivator ranks, Dukey boy. The earth manipulation monster should be an earth golem, no? They’re slow as shit. Even a platinum-ranked one shouldn’t be a problem for you."

The young master frowned, mouth hanging open as he stared at the others, unsure whether he heard that correctly. "It’s going to throw boulders and fire rock shards at me. It doesn’t have to catch me to kill me."

"Just dodge, idiot!"

Dukean gripped his face in frustration, "It’s not that easy!"

Neave looked confused in turn. "It… isn’t? You’re like gold rank in power! And a bona fide prodigy! You should be able to do it…" He frowned harder and looked at the others, who all stared at him in shock. "Could you possibly be that incompetent…?"

That was an absurd question, and all of them knew it. His standard was simply outrageous. However, the evident disappointment radiating from this child’s face still made them all feel ashamed, even if they knew they had no reason to.

"I really shouldn’t have left you unprotected if this is all you’re capable of,” he said, genuinely regretful at his actions. “I gotta give you something for protection until I finish my work.” Without even moving an inch, he vanished.

The others all sat there, waiting for his return. After sitting around for quite some time, it became clear that it could take a while longer. They awkwardly spent time meditating or chatting in hushed tones until he returned.

Eventually, out of nowhere, he blinked back into existence, holding a transparent glass sword.

"Ta-dah!” He gestured at it. “Here you go, lady and gentlemen! I present to you—the Glass Shard!"

Marven gazed at the weapon with quite some doubt. This was what his son came up with? It was created from that unique glass substance, and at least it was shaped like a proper sword. In his hands, it should be possible to utilize much of its potential, even if the material itself wasn’t high-ranked.

Very well, Marven thought. It’s much better than a random stick.

He couldn’t help but ask himself whether that fight would have been easier with a weapon like this. The answer was yes, definitely. He could have utilized proper sword techniques then, and he wouldn’t have had to worry about it breaking as much.

His son noticed his ogling and, without much ceremony, walked over to hand him the weapon.

Marven got up, stretched his hand out, and accepted the sword. The instant his palm touched the glass handle, his sweat glands erupted, and he reflexively dropped that unholy object, jumping back to the other side of the room.

The weapon spun through the air, and Neave looked offended at Marven’s actions, "Old man, what the f—!?"

Before he could finish the sentence, the sword touched the ground. It fell on the side, not even embedding itself into the earth, yet cracks and lines rapidly spread through the floor around it.

"Woooooow!" Neave clapped his hands. "That’s fucking awesome!" sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NøvᴇlFirᴇ(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

"Neave!? What the in the heavens’ name is that thing!?" He shook and had to take measured breaths to calm himself. Barring the cursed tome, that was easily the most dangerous thing he’d ever touched in his life. Its sheer spiritual weight was so immense that power oozed out of it—enough to leave several shallow cuts along his palm.

It was a perfectly smooth handle, yet it somehow cut his hand open. The hand of a platinum path cultivator, one that had spent centuries wielding a blade.

"Come on, old man, don’t be a bitch!" Neave picked the sword up off the ground and casually threw it at his father, who dodged it as if the emperor himself had thrown it at full force.

The blade embedded itself into the wall, and cracks instantly spread everywhere, collapsing the entire wall.

"Neave,” the frightened cultivator said carefully. “I don’t know what that thing is, but please remove it immediately! That is dangerous and—” but before he could get much further, he noticed the absolutely furious expression on his son’s face.

Without any ceremony, Neave picked the weapon up and began walking out of the cave. "Follow me,” he said and promptly started walking away.

The rest of them glanced at each other and hesitated briefly before finally deciding to follow him, carefully maneuvering through the dark underground passage, fearfully eyeing dark corners and other cave entrances.

Neave merely observed them and squinted his eyes. He scoffed and kept walking. The Glass Shard, as he had called it, was casually equipped in his hand. It occasionally passed near a branch or the wall, chipping bits and pieces off without even making contact.

The others winced every time it happened.

Painstakingly slowly, they made their way out of the underground and onto the surface. Neave walked in front of them and soon stopped.

They stood behind him, eyeing his back. Neave was quite bulky for a kid of his age and height. Yet, even if one ignored his size, he had the presence of a titan.

The way he stood, the way he carried himself, it all spoke of his comfort. This unusual kid, a colorful being with pink hair streaked with red, somehow managed to slot perfectly into this realm of cold darkness and silence, belonging to it, nay, lording over it.

He stood with his back turned to the others and let the time pass, daring any of them to speak.

None of them accepted the challenge.

He lifted the sword and spoke to them, "You aren’t stupid. Well, except for Hunter, maybe, but still, you aren’t fools. Except for Marven, maybe. Look,” he said, turning around to confront them.

His striking blue eyes shone, and his face held the faintest of hints of compassion. “What I’m trying to say is you guys are perfectly normal." Then he smiled. "Which is why you don’t belong here." His smile vanished.

The way he phrased that made everyone tense up. Was he about to kill them to kick them out?

"You are ignorant. Society binds the way you think and instills abstract rules to be respected and followed. These are useful and good. They keep you alive, they keep you happy, and they keep you safe.

“In this world, however, you must reject what you’ve been taught. In here, there are no real rules other than those you set for yourself. Here, the only real threat,” he said, tapping his temple, “lies inside your mind. I am going to show you," he lifted the sword into the air above his head and turned around, "what it means to thrive in this world." Neave got into a stance and pulled the sword back.

He smiled like a maniac as he felt the excitement rush over him. "Let’s show them together, glass slime!"

The sword lit up. Golden runes surrounded Neave, and he prepared himself for a swing. A gigantic, phantasmal image of a slime appeared above him, shining so brightly that even the eternal night turned to day.

He stepped forward, and his foot snapped into place with a resonant thud. The transparent glass sword moved, slowly pushing forward, yet a mighty wind blew dirt and dust away as more golden runes appeared around it.

The others wanted to move, and they tried to run away, but the overbearing pressure kept them firmly locked in place, frozen, eyes shot wide, observing the apocalyptic scene playing out before them.

As the sword finished its swing, he cackled maniacally.

A shockwave of sharp, grating glass cuts exploded from where Neave stood, crashing into the thick obsidian forest almost too fast to perceive, shattering the growth and flattening the landscape, yet that seemed to be the mere prelude.

The air screamed, and a gust of horrid, sharp, cutting wind washed over everything with such a density that it didn’t cut but pulverized. Everything in its path was ground to dust as it pushed a tsunami of sand and obsidian powder away from where they stood.

The mighty gust of wind formed a tornado of glass that scattered a shimmering mist of glass particles everywhere.

Once the aftermath of the swing had settled, a vast stretch of empty, flat land stood before them.

None of them could breathe. They didn’t want to either, as they feared inhaling some glass dust that still flickered through the air around them.

Neave put the sword down, "Did you see it, you cowards!?" He turned around to face them, showing his face that had been cut by the backlash of the strike but was now healing rapidly before their eyes, "This is my world! I’m in the foundation realm, so if any of you did what I just did, it would be even more dramatic!”

That was the truth, even though they had much trouble coming to terms with it.

“So tell me,” he continued. “Do you want to thrive!?" He narrowed his eyes at them and grinned harder as he lifted the sword to point it at them. An uncomfortable tension appeared around them, pinching their skin and causing their eyes to water. "Or do you want to leave?"

He threw the sword over to Marven again. The world froze. They all tensed up, and the old cultivator felt as if he were faced with a heavenly trial. However, he managed to empty his thoughts. The endless years of muscle memory firmly planted into his body took over, and he caught the sword out of the air.

As the others finally processed what happened, they rushed to put some space between themselves and the person holding a weapon of mass destruction. He himself shook profusely and struggled to keep the Glass Shard in place.

"Neave…” he said. “Can you at least do something about the handle?" He requested, gesturing at his shaking hand as his blood flowed freely from his palm.

His son grinned as he walked over, clapping in congratulations. He grabbed the sword from Marven’s hands and picked up a piece of obsidian. Liquid spirit flowed into the substance, and Neave lined the handle and guard of the blade in a thin, black, protective layer

He handed back the transparent blade, and Marven caught it. It no longer cut his hand, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable to hold. He could feel it. He could see it.

The second life of a vengeful glass slime living within a sword, its shimmering, transparent world open for anyone who dared enter. He took a deep breath and politely requested a sheath, too.

Neave rolled his eyes but complied, and soon enough, the blade was snuggly hidden away in an obsidian scabbard.

"There you go. Now you should be safe from the demons for a while. I will go and do my thing now, and believe me, I will be busy. I hope to get this over with as soon as possible, and then I will come to babysit you guys again."

He was about to leave, abandoning them on the surface, but Marven yelled, "Wait, Neave, can you leave us some food first?"

"Oh… Whoops, yeah, sorry, my bad."

Leaving them alone on the surface, he left, likely to fetch some feed. They weren’t sure whether he had any plans to lead them back to the cave.

Standing around awkwardly as they waited, they couldn’t help but turn to face the scene of destruction, one by one. The dust had settled. Now, a giant mound of sand lay past a flat wasteland before them.

A spark had been lit within them, even if they weren’t fully aware of it—an unavoidable passion, born of their nature as cultivators, as defiers of the heavens and creatures that walked a neverending path of pursuit of power.

Perhaps they, too, could one day thrive as well.

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