The Jester of Apocalypse

Neave hadn’t shared much information with Dukean. Not quite yet. While the spirit oath had confirmed that he wasn’t an enemy or a schemer, that didn’t mean Neave would just tell him every secret he knew right from the start.

Even though he desperately wanted to.

Neave enjoyed seeing the looks on others’ faces when he shared something unbelievable. He still felt giddy after Dukean felt his cultivation.

Although Dukean insisted he must hurry and meet the others from his sect, Neave urged him to follow along. He gave Dukean a vague excuse about introducing him to his allies, but that wasn’t the main reason why he had him follow along.

The main reason was Hunter.

Neave’s plan had failed. He wanted to perform something of an experiment on Hunter. Hunter wasn’t a villain, not by a long shot, but he had been raised by the exact type of individual Neave wanted to eliminate the most. How much did he take after them? Would it be possible to redirect him to the ‘right’ path?

Hunter wasn’t an adult yet, by any definition of the word. He didn’t have the power to throw around, and he didn’t have the age. 

Neave believed that exterminating those with a negative value in lives was the best way to deal with them. However, he also thought that prevention was superior to intervention.

His plan had gone to shit, but that didn’t mean the experiment had to end there.

After quite a bit of scouting, Neave finally spotted Marven’s shiny, bald head in the distance. He spotted Hunter right behind him. Trying to… Beat him up?

As they slowly approached the three cultivators, Dukean raised an eyebrow.

“Are these the allies you’ve mentioned?”

Neave grinned.

Marven spotted them a good bit before they arrived. He frowned.

Once they reached them, Neave gave them a cheerful greeting.

“Yo! What’s up?”

Hunter stiffened upon hearing his voice. He turned around, fury blazing deep within his eyes.

“You! You bastard!” Hunter jumped at Neave and punched him.

Neave didn’t move an inch. Hunter’s punch landed on Neave’s face, and Neave didn’t bat an eye. Neave lifted his arm and grabbed Hunter by the mouth. He lifted him in the air. Neave stared him down and spoke to Dukean.

“Dukey-boy, I have a hypothetical question for you. Let’s say an individual poisoned a child for years with the intent to make them unable to cultivate. What do you think would be an appropriate punishment for this act?”

Dukean hesitated. He glanced at Hunter and then back to Neave, unsure of what was happening here, but he humored Neave’s question anyway and gave him an answer.

“That is a heinous act I would regard as equal to, if not worse, than killing the child outright. Even righteous sects would declare such an individual worthy of capital punishment, but I am strongly against such practices. Even so, I would judge such an individual as worthy of life in slavery or imprisonment.”

“I see. There you go, Hunter. From the mouth of a scion of one of the greatest sects in the Empire.”

Hunter’s eyes shot wide open. Neave threw him on the ground and stared him right in the eye. Hunter muttered.

“That’s impossible. You claim my mother poisoned a child!? What proof do you have of that!?”

“Hunter, dearie, I am the child she poisoned.” Neave turned to Marven, who did his best to pretend he wasn’t there, but as the gazes of three children were joined by the fourth once Harel turned to him, he felt forced to speak.

“Hunter. Neave is telling the truth.”

“No… You’re lying! You’re all fucking liars! My mother, she… She would never…” Hunter paused, “She would… Oh, heavens. She…” He shook as the reality of it sank in. Hunter remembered the moments after Neave killed Kaphor, just before the sect was disbanded.

Back then, he felt Marven was lying or exaggerating. But now…

Something clicked. He remembered the Bentheta sect. He remembered the way their elders treated the younger generation. Would anyone from the Zearthorn sect put the life of a disciple before their own?

He had been present with his mother in many meetings with other elders. The more he thought about it, the more examples he could remember. It was apparent why the disciples of the Zearthorn sect were so weak. The elders put more effort into setting their enemies back than pushing their allies forward. And everyone had plenty of enemies.

When Marven executed one elder after another, Hunter saw the deep fear in their eyes. It made sense they would be afraid. Every single one of them had committed a sin worthy of death.

Even my… Even…

Hunter grabbed his mouth as he threw up. Then he fainted and dropped to the ground.

Neave lit up and turned to Dukean.

“Thanks, Dukey boy! I’ll be using you for intimidation in the future as well!”

Dukean glared at Neave incredulously.

“Wait, don’t tell me you’ve dragged me here just for that?”

“Yup!”

Dukean blinked. Then he shook his head.

“So these are the allies you’ve mentioned?”

Marven sighed. This day was just too much. Now Neave had brought a scion of one the four great sects of the Empire. As he got up to greet the newcomer, he seriously contemplated whether he should run away and hide somewhere in the countryside.

“Greetings, Young Master. My name is Marven Zearthorn.”

Dukean nodded.

“The sect master of the Zearthorn sect? You should report your new sect to the empire, as you have been sanctioned.”

“I am not the sect master of the newly created sect.”

“Oh?” Dukean raised an eyebrow, “So… Who is?”

Neave cut in.

“Where is Gabrias?”

“Ah!” Marven exclaimed, “I have no idea.”

***

After a short conversation with Marven, Dukean bid them farewell and left to rejoin with others from his sect. Neave alerted Marven that the fight had reduced their newly built sect to rubble, which was greeted by a somewhat unsurprised shrug from Marven.

To Neave’s surprise, Marven believed this was somewhat fortunate for them. They owned a plot of land adjacent to a newly opened mystical realm. While the rights to enter and explore the realm were practically unattainable for a small sect, selling land was easy.

Their little plot of land had just gained a lot of value. Marven believed they could sell it for well over two billion platinum coins. This could buy them a much bigger plot of land. Neave cringed upon hearing this as he remembered his lost dimension ring.

Neave told Marven to care for the kids and find Gabrias if he was still alive. Then he vanished before Marven even had the chance to ask him where he was going.

***

Ethereal birds frolicked through the divine mist, flickers of beautiful landscapes and wondrous realms reflecting in the haze.

The Grand Queen dismissed the council of her vassals and sent them on their way.

Brivia stood up to leave, but the Grand Queen waved at her and called her over. Brivia strode up to the throne of the Queen, and many of the vassals shot her a nasty look. That was no good. Jealousy was a poison that violated the purity of their principles. She mentally noted that discipline was in order as she stood before the Grand Queen.

“Greetings, your majesty. Why have you summoned this humble servant?”

The Grand Queen smiled, but her expression hardened a bit.

“The Gods have made a decision. For Langen to prosper and for this world to be reclaimed, they must dispatch divine messengers.”

Brivia tensed up a bit but quickly resolved herself.

“If they need an avatar, this humble one will gladly lay down her life as an offering.”

“No, dear child. You are of too much value, even to the Gods.”

Brivia flushed, ecstasy flowing through her entire body as she received the blessing of a lifetime.

“I am honored at your words, your majesty.”

“These words aren’t mine to claim but of the Divine itself. Raise your head, my child. There are plenty of volunteers for this role. You have also been given a task.”

Brivia raised her head in shock.

“Speak, and I will lay my life to turn your words into reality.”

“You are to accompany them in their mission. You may even qualify for a direct blessing based on your performance and their judgment.”

Brivia gaped, and tears rushed down her cheeks.

“I would… If I died now, I would have lived a full life.”

“You are not to die now, Brivia. You are not ever to die, dear. You will reign over this world with me in the name of the Gods. Now stand. Would you care for a cup of tea?”

***

Carfen walked into the mystical realm hidden beneath his sect. Soon after, he spotted Ilkivir on the ground, covered in wounds from head to toe. He regarded him for a bit, then he spoke.

“Third disciple. How did you fail the mission?”

Ilkivir, to the great surprise of Carfen, smiled toothily.

“That child, Carfen. You should have witnessed it yourself.”

“I have heard witness reports. The word has already spread far and wide about the appearance of the ‘demon child.’ But with what I have heard, he shouldn’t have been a threat to you, especially not if you sacrificed the seed of agony.”

“He had plenty of assistance. But that wasn’t the reason why I lost. That child has a lot of spirit powers, far too many. Their peculiar combination is frankly terrifying. At one point, I managed to behead him. His neck reconnected midair, and his body fused back together.”

Carfen raised his head a bit.

“Hmm… Well, no matter. If the child remains in the capital, we will track and eliminate it soon. We have more important matters to discuss now. The first disciple will be joining us shortly.”

Ilkvir perked up.

“What? Why?”

“We will be facing our masters today. We have reached a Threshold.”

Ilkivir smiled. His smile widened, and he chuckled. He cackled louder and louder until he was roaring with laughter.

“Finally!”

Ilkivir got up to a seated position and sank into his spirit senses. He observed the thick shroud of strands of potential and swiftly picked a few, placing them right into his core.

His body began rapidly healing, and all the demons turned to face him. He glowed with a platinum light as the mist seeped into his pores and reconstructed his body from its very foundation.

Moments later, he opened his eyes. Carfen nodded at him.

“Congratulations, third disciple. Welcome to the diamond path.”

Ilkivir nodded, glee apparent on his face. Both of them paused and turned around once they spotted the figure that had appeared out of nowhere. They got up and bowed their heads.

A woman with hair darker than the night sky and eyes shinier than the moon above appeared before them. Her red robes flowed like blood down her body. A satisfied smile adorned her face.

All three of them walked over to a ritual circle nearby. They invested their power into it, and three figures appeared.

A big demon with eyes all over its face and spikes for hair.

A shadowy, cloaked demon with a mask, empty voids for eyes.

And a bloody, bandaged demon with two red, beady eyes poking from behind the bandages.

Ilkivir stepped forward, bowing to the shadow demon.

“Third disciple greets the shadow of death.”

Carfen stepped forward, bowing to the giant demon.

“Second disciple greets the shadow of destruction.”

And finally, Beanna stepped forward toward the bandaged demon.

“First disciple greets the shadow of calamity.”