The Jester of Apocalypse
Chapter 126: The Jester

Through its boundless roots, the glass shrub knew of all that happened in its domain.

And something unusual was happening at the outer edges. It took it a while to notice, but now, it was clear as day. Many monsters were coming and going, but one was far more… Clever than the others.

No matter, it thought. This was what Master was trying to achieve anyway. Foes worthy of facing him in mortal combat. Who was the shrub to take that away from him?

Besides, it had more important things to focus on. Right in the center of the chamber, where the ambient energy was by far the most abundant, it had created a sphere.

The glass puppet was out in the caves somewhere, lying inert and ignored.

The puppet was precious. It was a gift from Master. As such, the glass shrub would forever keep it as a memento, a reminder of its early days.

But it was insufficient.

Within the glass sphere lay a new avatar. A direct extension of its power, something it won’t merely be manipulating, but rather, something it will truly embody.

And for the first time since it had started working on it…

A hand finally moved.

***

Harel swung the metallic spiked ball in frustration, and as it impacted the earth golem, the shock that spread through its body turned most of it to sand.

She dug for the monster core that lay within, and when she finally found it, she crushed it in her grip.

"Stone Skin, not a bad power, but limited to only one body part,” she spat, almost sarcastically reciting the requirements Neave gave them.

The spirit powers they were instructed to find were meant to be as separate from one another as humanly possible. Thus, they were told to find a single power to affect their body. With such a strict budget, they had to choose wisely.

It was so frustrating. She understood Neave’s argument from a logical perspective. But according to what he had told them, he had access to a unique method of combining spirit powers. And they didn’t.

It was yet another thing connected to his spirit creation ability. She had asked him several times if he could try teaching it to her, and every time, he simply stated that it was impossible.

She didn’t necessarily not believe him, but his argument didn’t seem very convincing.

The thing that made her most frustrated was simply how lost she felt. Throughout her entire life, all she had pursued was power, and that pursuit happened on a very straight and narrow path.

It had once been for the glory of her sect, and now…

Why?

What was she truly fighting for?

There wasn’t all that much to do in the nightmare realm, so if she ever came across any of the others, they would talk. All of them seemed to have something. A passion, a drive that they could fight for, something that didn’t depend on absolute power.

While she…

Harel took a deep breath. What she wanted more than anything was to be free. And, perhaps, even sadly, she had already achieved that. It had been too easy. There had been little to no conflict.

The rope hanging around her neck frayed and crumbled before she could even attempt to take it off.

She tried distracting herself by focusing on growing more powerful. Strong enough to truly make a difference in the fight against the messenger.

Laughable.

Neave was miles ahead of any of them in power, and she couldn’t imagine a single way to truly catch up with him in any reasonable sense. He had told them that at diamond path cultivation and with the weapons and spirit powers he chose for them, they would all be capable of defeating him through sheer power.

She simply didn’t believe that. She couldn’t. It felt as hopeless as trying to fist-fight a hurricane into submission, like trying to subdue an earthquake with one’s two arms. He was a natural disaster; his mastery was a power beyond reach.

Still, Neave was confident that they would be of help against the heavenly messenger. Even she understood the implication of the five of them striking at once. So… was that it? That was really all she was fighting for? Just to be a one-time-use pawn in a fight she got dragged into against her will?

Say they won—then what?

She needed something else. Something more.

Harel spotted another golem slithering in the dark and threw the chain ball at it. The impact shattered its entire body, and she dragged her weapon back.

As the ball scraped the ground and reached ever closer to her, she felt strength escape her. The dark caves echoed with her previous attack, and the slithering of monsters could be heard in the distance.

Staring at the tool of mass destruction she wielded so haphazardly, at that moment, more than ever before, she felt just how mighty she was. Once she was done being a pawn, she would be free to do whatever she pleased.

So, did she really have to discover what she wanted to do right at that moment? Couldn’t that wait just a bit longer?

The more she thought about it, the more she felt that it may be a matter of habit. Perhaps she just wasn’t used to being free, so she needed something to shackle her once more.

Maybe it’s just a matter of perspective. No matter how strong she was, she was stuck in a nightmare realm. But out in the world? There was an entire realm to explore, so much to see, so much to experience.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be shackled again. It was that she wasn’t yet truly free. She desired to get this exercise over with so she could leave. But she knew damn well that there was only one way out. The thought of killing herself to escape briefly flashed in her mind.

Pulling her weapon back, she walked in the direction of more shuffling noises.

Patience, Harel, she thought. Just live through this, and you will be free.

***

Hunter stood his ground as the massive stone golem slammed into his shield repeatedly.

The shield rejected the force, and the effect of his massive sword kept him firmly locked in place. Frankly, this golem wasn’t even remotely dangerous enough to act as practice.

Its strikes were mighty, yes, but Hunter could barely even feel the force behind them.

There was still a purpose behind what he was doing. He was observing the potential of the shield. Hunter had spent much time pondering his path, and the more he worked on it, the clearer the vision became.

Immovable. Indomitable. Impenetrable.

He would become a mighty defender, an unrivaled juggernaut of justice. Not even the moon falling from the sky could crush his defense.

That lofty goal was quite distant, however, and he had to start somewhere. He began by focusing his growth on the potential of defense.

Eventually, the backlash from striking the shield proved too much for the massive monster, and its arms crumbled. It moved on to slamming its head and, finally, to throwing its entire body at Hunter.

Nothing but a rough pile of shattered rocks remained as the final vestige of the golem’s power blinked out, and it perished.

The potential of… Backlash? He contemplated what he just saw. Self-harm through overzealously striking potent defense? Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NƟvelFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

There was something to this scenario, something deeper he felt held potential, but it was hard to pinpoint exactly what. Was it that he’d placed an opponent into a scenario where they had no choice but to strike, even though that hastened their demise?

A quick scan of the core it dropped showed an underwhelming boost to defense, one that Hunter promptly threw aside as he returned to the chamber. If it was up to him, he would split the body modification powers into as many as he could. But who was he to question Neave, the lofty master of spirit powers?

Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. It had been a while since he’d felt such strong spite directed at his younger brother. Rationally, he knew Neave didn’t deserve it, but the filth deep in Hunter’s heart hadn’t yet been fully cleansed.

There had been quite the fight between Harel, Dukean, and Neave once he rejected the powers.

Harel argued that Neave could remove the spirit powers if they were suboptimal. However, Marven and Gabrias, who had both experienced the removal of spirit powers, were adamant that that wasn’t something one could take lightly.

Neave agreed, even stating that using that method was likely to outright kill them if he removed too many powers at once.

The ultimate point of acquiring spirit powers was to seek synergy. The only way to find synergy was to have enough powers for it to show.

And if he removed too many powers at once, it would likely result in death.

This made Neave suggest that Dukean’s powers should be removed immediately, which received a rather harsh response from the young master.

Throughout this whole thing, Hunter had stayed silent, and now, it was undeniable that a certain tension hung between them.

However, Hunter saw this as a test. He ran the scenario through his mind, over and over, looking for the right solution, the most just and proper option.

He failed, but he didn’t beat himself up about it. It was a challenging subject, and it was debatable whether it was even in the realm of moral quandary, as opposed to simply being a disagreement on a practical problem.

Hunter’s fight was against the filth in his soul, the muck that had rubbed off on him from all the time he’d spent with the snakes of the Zearthorn clan. His mental acuity, however… well… perhaps he could read a book or two once he was back out.

Soon enough, he made his way back to the main chamber.

Gabrias sat in a corner where he had a workshop of sorts. He was surrounded by countless metallic plates, courtesy of Dukean, which he used to sketch all kinds of plans for the future.

There were grand plans of a tower reaching far into the sky, a massive dome that sat beneath the earth, and the creation of a branching, trap-filled underground maze that would make it impossible for intruders to get close.

Hunter rushed to the weights before Gabrias could notice him. He was fond of his friend, and he dearly enjoyed interacting with the strange man, but…

Lord, was he a pain in the ass when he started talking about construction. Hunter couldn’t grasp any of the stuff the man blabbered on about, and he was worried that too much exposure to that would hurt his opinion of his friend.

Truthfully, he knew that the best thing to do would be to try and understand his friend, to be there for him when he wanted someone to spill his passion onto.

After being forced to listen to the man for what felt like days on end last time, he had to admit that his righteous heart wasn’t quite strong enough to handle that yet.

"Oh, Hunter, are you…" Gabrias noticed Hunter; however, it was too late, as he had just started lifting the weights, "Oh, never mind, we’ll talk later then."

Phew.

Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, Marven and Dukean walked into the chamber.

Marven was repeatedly attempting to justify Neave’s decisions and behavior, and Dukean looked right about ready to stab the man if he didn’t shut up.

Hunter had grown somewhat estranged from his father. They didn’t have a solid father-son relationship, and Hunter wasn’t particularly willing to fight for it, either.

It was hard to say whether this was bad or not. They were on good terms, and there was no spite or bad blood between them, but that didn’t necessarily make it right.

Marven had a clear and overwhelming bias toward Neave. The reasons for it were irrelevant to Hunter. He did feel somewhat jealous at first. It wasn’t easy for any child to witness a parent giving preferential treatment to a sibling.

However, jealousy was an ugly beast, and Hunter did everything he could to squash it before it could grow big enough to possess him.

It was yet another trial he had overcome, and yet another step he believed had taken him in a better direction.

It was a difficult path to tread. But it was rewarding.

From the very start, even from his early days, he had known one fact better than anyone.

Carrying heavy weight made people stronger.

***

A slime hopped, and as it traveled, the glass brushes grew smaller and smaller, and the ambient energy grew less and less dense.

It instinctively understood that places with high ambient energy had mighty beasts. That was no place for a powerless little slime. It sought a wilderness, a weak yet peaceful desert where it could grow at its own pace and gradually catch up with its superiors.

And finally, the tiniest of shrubs were overtaken, and it was free.

One hop. Two hops. Three hops.

Then, an arm reached from the darkness far faster than it could react. And it was dead.

***

It had grown quite a bit in a short time. Now, it stood on two legs and feasted on the slime with two arms.

Its extra arm had morphed into more children as it evolved again, and this time, rather than consume them, it set them free.

They would walk the same path as it did and become even more harbingers of vengeance.

If eaten, that would be no loss. Those that consumed them would merely be awakened as well.

As it finished its feast, it contemplated whether it should delve into the depths of the glass forest.

Perhaps it wasn’t yet time for that. It still couldn’t even break off one of the branches. There was no way it could survive the wrath of the creature that birthed them.

"Whoa, holy shit, what is this thing!?"

It turned as quickly as it could, mind flush with panic and fright. What could have possibly snuck up on it with such ease?

However, as it turned to face the creature that had arrived, it froze.

It couldn’t be…

The hair, the face… The beautiful form.

It opened its mouth and spoke in a gurgly, untrained voice, "A miracle…"

Instantly, the face of the newcomer morphed into a deep frown.

It walked toward him, arm stretched out. "The Jester stands before me."

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