The Jester of Apocalypse

The ethereal purple puppets all lay on the ground, shattered in whole or part and flickering. The dragon looked worn out, gashes spread through its entire body, and one of its wings was broken.

Carfen walked casually toward it, remaining vigilant for any desperate moves it may attempt.

The dragon was out of tricks. It huffed and took sporadic steps back, screeching and growling at the armored man.

The battle was nearing its end, with Carfen not taking any real damage throughout the bout.

In the distance, Neave and Dukean peeked from behind a ruined building as they observed the fight. Neave was back in his young master disguise. He was shaking and clenching a brick so hard it cracked beneath his grip.

He had hoped the dragon would put up a better fight, but this was more like pest extermination. It was to be expected, somewhat. Skill and equipment are both crucial in a fight.

While the dragon had power equal to, if not even greater, than that of Carfen, he was a warrior that had spent centuries mastering his skills. The dragon had spent its entire life trapped inside a mystical realm where it was likely the most powerful creature by far.

Neave had to reluctantly hand it to Dukean. They made something of a deal between them; Dukean agreed to believe that Carfen was a demon, but in return, he forced Neave to agree not to charge in there and get himself killed.

Neave didn’t intend to respect this agreement, as it hadn’t been bound by spirit oath, but even he could see that Carfen was far above him.

It felt unusual to Neave. Not just unusual but agonizing. He was looking at someone he was sure he couldn’t defeat. Perhaps he could do it if given infinite attempts, as with the seventh-wave demon, but that was nothing but a pipe dream.

What was it again? Only one attempt?

As the aftermath of the battles today sank in, so did the realization that Neave’s mind was somehow being manipulated. Either that, or he was just batshit crazy. He would probably say it was the former if he had to bet on one. Or both. Yeah, definitely both.

There was a lot of unusual stuff happening to him. He had thought about it a lot already, but what the hell was with the mysterious, spooky realm he got yoinked to whenever he lost consciousness?

Was it a remnant of the curse? It was the statues, somehow, Neave was sure of this. There wasn’t anything else to point at and say, ‘hey, that’s the thing to blame!’ Yet, Neave had read the contents of the curse. The book never mentioned the statues in any capacity.

Perhaps he could go down to the hall and ÞÞÞÞÞÞÞÞÞ

… No fucking way.

He just felt that same thing again. Those weren’t his thoughts. Well, they were his thoughts. But they weren’t what he would usually think. Wait, did this mean that whoever was interfering with his mind wanted him to go down to the hall?

Yeah, no.

That’s never going to happen. Unless he was being reverse manipulated? No, that was just overthinking it. Was it? Probably. Neave focused again, trying to sense whether these were still his ‘own’ thoughts.

He was interrupted as Dukean placed a hand on his shoulder. A hand Dukean almost lost as Neave barely stopped himself from tearing it off out of reflex.

“You aren’t considering fighting Carfen now, are you?”

Neave scoffed.

“I get your point. Don’t worry. I will kill him within a few weeks at the latest.”

Dukean frowned at that.

“What makes you so confident you can gain enough power in that time?”

Neave stared at Dukean and contemplated. Should he tell him? Perhaps if he wanted an ally, he should be more open? That felt a little risky, though. This young man was still a little suspicious to Neave. So far, his intentions seemed to be in the right place, but all Neave had was his word. Neave smiled a bit.

“Hey, Dukey, you want to take a spirit oath with me?”

Dukean’s eyes shot up.

“No, that… Spirit oaths are not something to be taken lightly.”

“I know. Which is precisely why I want to take one. We can just do a retroactive one, so we aren’t bound by it in the future. What do you say? You will have confirmation that I am telling the truth, and I will have confirmation that you aren’t scheming anything.”

Dukean hesitated for a good while.

“...Alright. What phrase do you wish to bind us to?”

“‘I am telling the truth.’”

“No.” Dukean shot back without any hesitation.

“Does that mean you’re lying?” Neave grinned.

“I believe you already know why I refused that.”

Neave clicked his tongue.

“You pussy.”

There was a good reason why someone would refuse to take such a spirit oath. It was more likely than not to cause backlash to both people taking it. It was relatively simple, really. 

Everyone lied a little whenever they said something. Pure honesty was rare and, ironically, socially unacceptable.

If every man were completely honest about their attraction to every woman they’re attracted to, they would be seen as creepy. If every merchant were completely honest about their pricing and intent, they would be seen as scammers.

In the case of Neave and Dukean, even if both of them were telling the truth, it was likely they had at some point said a half-truth or phrased something in a way that promoted their agenda. These weren’t lies, strictly speaking, but they would still cause backlash after they took the spirit oath.

‘I am telling the truth’ was a spirit oath phrase frequently used not to measure whether someone was lying but to gauge the degree to which they were being honest. The stronger the backlash, the less likely they were to be fully transparent.

Neave shook his head and chuckled a little.

“Alright then, we will bind ourselves to ‘I plan on doing nothing that will bring direct harm to you.’”

Dukean sighed a little and agreed to that one. It had a bit of a loophole with the ‘direct harm’ clause, but it was generally an acceptable phrase. It also had another small loophole with the ‘plan on doing’ part. Plans could always change, but it was at least guaranteed they were on the same side at the moment. There was no way to change this part without making the spirit oath bind them in the future.

And, without even sharing a word, they knew that that wasn’t an option.

They both sat in front of one another and grasped hands. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, their spirits touched, and they spoke in resonant voices.

“I plan on doing nothing that will bring direct harm to you.”

Their spirits hummed for a few seconds, and they both slumped over. They made the spirit oath, and none of them suffered any damage. Dukean, however, looked highly distressed.

“You!? How are you on the very beginning of the foundation realm!?”

Neave grinned ear to ear.

“You and I, my friend, have much to discuss.”

In the distance, down at the bottom of the massive crater, Carfen lifted his axe and decapitated the purple dragon.

***

The rest of that day was as heavy as it could get. The capital was torn by grief, as many had lost friends and family members. The whole section of the city where the rift had opened had been wrecked.

Countless purple snakes still slithered through the wreckage, but their numbers swiftly reduced as countless cultivators hunted and exterminated them.

Carfen offloaded a lot of earth from his dimension ring. He had an earth manipulation spirit power, so hauling tons of it around in his ring wasn’t unusual. He used it to fill in the crater and flatten the parts that had suffered a lot of damage.

He raised a massive earthen wall in a big circle around the rift. This structure would be reinforced and handled by the more powerful sects under the direction of the Emperor.

Carfen was in no rush to help his comrades. Mainly because the battle was already over. He grinned in satisfaction as he read the message from the Emperor and frowned at the other message he received.

Carfen waited beside the rift as countless cultivators gathered around him and began the construction. He took a quick peek into the mystical realm, finding there were no more threats inside. But there was a whole load of the purple crystal.

Although grief and tragedy coiled themselves around many hearts, avarice snuck into many minds.

Depending on who got the most out of this newly opened realm, the power balance in the capital was about to change.

***

Hunter woke up.

He was lying on the open streets, many around him wounded or dead.

Turning to his left, he spotted Harel sitting, crouched, hugging her knees, and burying her face between them.

In front of him, with his back turned, sat the ‘elder’ of the ‘Falken sect.’ Hunter felt anger bubbling up inside him.

“...Why?”

Marven didn’t turn to face Hunter. He sat there frozen.

“Just… Why!?” Hunter got up and threw a punch at Marven’s back. Marven didn’t even budge. Hunter threw punch after punch. Countless spectators turned to him and dismissed him. He wasn’t the first to throw a fit among the survivors lying here, “Why, why, why!? You fucking bastard! Why!? Neave, he…! He…! And you’ve just forgiven him!? Let him go!? No, you’re fucking taking care of him! He…! He killed my mother, you bastard! And you! You destroyed the entire sect! Why!? Just… Why?” Hunter’s punches slowly grew weaker as he shook. He dropped to his knees, throwing limp fists at Marven’s back as he wept, “Just please tell me why… I need to know why.”

***

Harel threw Hunter a glance and shoved her face back between her knees. She held a small monster core in her hand. It contained a peculiar spirit power. Metal perception.

The other cores Neave had granted her were significantly more powerful. Having such a repertoire of powers would be envied by anyone, even the greatest warriors of this realm. But this was the one she was interested in the most.

Why did he give her this power specifically? It felt so limited and niche. Did he want her to become a miner or a spelunker, perhaps? Why would he think this power belonged with the others?

And perhaps most importantly, what should she do?

Neave was… She still remembered the way he impaled himself on a sword for Hunter. Without any hesitation. Or did he do it for Hunter at all? He must have. He could have utilized several more efficient approaches if he didn’t care about what happened to Hunter.

She looked at the core in her hand again. The first time she was offered these powers, it felt like a deal with the devil. She had no idea what to feel now. Who was Neave, really? Not just identity-wise, but who was he deep inside? A mindless murderer? A psychopath with a penchant for control and manipulation?

Or was he just… A disturbed kid? She recalled what Marven had told her, how Neave needed others to ground him. What would happen if there was no one willing to do this job? She vividly remembered how Neave fought someone even Marven stood no chance against. And she witnessed Marven annihilate an entire sect with a single technique.

She clenched the monster core and took a deep breath. She didn’t know what she needed to do. But she did know what she wanted to do. She stored the monster core in her dimension ring. Harel shifted her pose into one better suited for meditation.

Just as she was about to sink into her spirit, she saw Neave walking up to them, followed by a cloaked young man.