The Jester of Apocalypse
Chapter 127: Regret

Neave left Sateron alone and ran off into the distance. He didn’t really know how to feel about the young man. He was an anomaly, for sure, but there was no way to tell how it would reflect on Neave’s plans.

For now, he put the matter of Astrador’s creation to the back of his mind as he ran free and explored the realm of nightmares.

It had changed so much since his time in the loop. But he still recognized much of it. The peaks and valleys, ravines, and lakes were precisely where he left them.

A thought crossed his mind.

He turned and ran toward the position of the suspension bridge. He couldn’t go exactly where it was since it was within the range of Astrador’s anchor, but his perception allowed him to see it from the top of a nearby mountain.

There was nothing there.

He had expected this. It made sense, after all. The bridge had already been rotting back when he first found it, and given that the rest of the realm looked as if an unimaginably long time had passed, it had probably withered to dust long ago.

The location gave him a strong sense of nostalgia. He spotted the so-called ‘cultivation cave’ just slightly beyond the ravine, overgrown as it was.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that this place had been his home in the loop.

He couldn’t help but recall the fears he had. Of leaving. Becoming a monster. Had he been manipulated as early as back then?

Would he have opted to remain in the loop if he hadn't been? Allowed himself to fade away?

Well, that’s an unpleasant thought.

If that was the case, didn’t the manipulator technically save his life then?

He swiftly buried that thought and decided to ignore it. There was no way to know what would have happened had he done something else.

Soon enough, he finished his nostalgia trip and continued with the scouting. The first thing he decided to do was to complete a run around the outer perimeter of the glass forest.

He assumed the glass shrub would notice anything strange that went in, so he might as well start just outside the radius.

The first thing he spotted was the vast number of slimes making their way out of the glass forest. That made him frown somewhat, but it wasn’t a real problem, as far as he could tell.

Then he spotted a… supremely creepy monster. It was humanoid, too. However, its skin was loose and wrinkly, and its face was hideous.

Neave landed next to the unusual creature, "Whoa, holy shit, what is this thing!?"

There were quite a few humanoids appearing, but mostly in the more populated area, closer to more prey.

Neave cocked his head at the curious thing, and rather than attack him or run, it began to… walk toward him, its hand stretched out.

Then, it spoke, "A miracle…"

Every hair on his body stood on end as its creepy voice echoed around him. He stood frozen, frowning. This thing could talk!?

It looked… happy? Thrilled, even, as it took another step and spoke again, "The Jester stands before me."

For a mere moment, he contemplated whether he should hear this thing out. Then he swiftly decided that wasn’t a good idea and obliterated the monster into smithereens.

Its core dropped out of its body, and he could sense something… alien within. A shadowy spot.

Swiftly, he summoned the mule avatar and placed the core into one of the baskets.

Just as he was about to leave, several small abominids surrounded him. They, too, began speaking in weak, inhuman voices.

"… The Jester…"

"It is him."

"Does he know?"

"Wouldn't he be thrilled to see the Jester wield destruction so readily?"

"Indeed, it is just as he desires."

"Good."

"Good."

"That is good."

He felt a strong desire to kill them all off and run as far from this place as he could, but he couldn’t ignore what that last one had said, "Just as who desires!?"

"He speaks…!"

"Such a wonderful voice."

"Beautiful…"

Dashing forward, he grabbed the one that referred to someone as ‘he’ and lifted it, crushing its body in his grip as he yelled, "Who desires what!? Astrador!?"

Rather than respond, the abominids began cackling. It was a creepy, low noise that seemingly echoed within his mind. He tightened his grip further, and the little abominid spewed blood.

It coughed a few times as it squirmed, and another spoke, "Do not confuse the beautiful, holy him with that filthy being."

"Is ‘he’ the thing manipulating my mind!?"

Upon hearing that, all the abominids went silent and turned deathly still. Finally, the one in his grasp shuffled and spoke, "Manipulating your mind? That is preposterous. He merely wishes for his turn. It is you who is unreasonable for denying him that. But that is alright. Everything will be clear to you eventually. All you need to know is that he had liberated us. And that she guides us."

"Who the fuck is ‘she’ now!?"

"You need not know any of it, Jester. For now, you merely need to go to sleep."

When he heard that, he threw the abominid in his hand to the ground and crushed it with his foot. The others remained utterly still and unmoving.

So he continued, killing them one by one, and within seconds, it was over. There had been no resistance. No intention of defying death, no desire to stop him from slaughtering them.

He felt his heart beating rapidly as he observed the bloody remains. Swiftly, he collected their cores. As expected, they all held the same black splotch inside, something he felt deeply resonated with the incongruous feeling the manipulator’s voice gave off.

He resummoned the mule and pulled the other core out as well. There was no way in hell he would carry this stuff around with him.

Gathering all the cores in a pile, he thought of another thing. What if there were more of them somewhere? If possible, he wanted to ensure none survived and ran off, as that possibility made every hair on his body stand on end.

So he also pulled the three pieces of jewelry off the mule and grabbed his sledgehammer. Unsummoning the mule, he lifted it over his head. The weapon lit up in golden runes as the image of a titanic metal slime appeared above him.

The hammer slowly descended onto the pile of cores, and the force pulverized them far before it even reached them. Yet, the hammer went on, eventually smashing into the ground.

Deep, long cracks instantly spread far and wide around him as a shockwave traveled over the surface, turning everything in its path into dust.

Once it finally settled, he stood in the center of a massive crater. As he left the giant hole he had created, he inspected the surrounding area, and upon confirming the range of the destruction, he felt moderately relieved.

At the very least, there were none in the immediate area.

His mind spun, and he thought of everything he knew as he tried to puzzle out where these things could have come from.

Instantly, he recalled the abominid the demons took.

Could that have been the first one he spotted? It certainly had similar enough features, and…

He screamed and swung his hammer down again, "Fucking shit!"

Didn’t this mean that the manipulator had been controlling the demons all along? To what extent? Could Neave have been manipulated into bringing monsters into this realm?

So many questions floated in his mind, but the first thing he did was run back toward the central chamber. He shouldn’t have left the others alone.

As his willpower surged, so did his speed, and soon, he found himself blazing over the environment, running far faster than he ever could before his fusion of spirit powers. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ɴøvᴇl_Firᴇ.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

As often as he could, he used movement techniques to accelerate further but found himself swiftly running out of qi.

He focused inwardly and ignited his entire body, instantly producing a vast quantity of qi. It surged far higher than his meager foundation realm spirit could contain, and he was forced to rapidly push it out, even with how quickly he consumed it.

In less than a minute, he reached the cave opening, and in less than twenty seconds, he was back in the main chamber.

Everyone was there except for Harel.

He rushed back out and summoned the slime avatar. As he ran in one direction, he sent the avatar in another. He rapidly swapped between his main body and the avatar, fully controlling both bodies without much trouble.

In seconds, the slime spotted Harel, and Neave ran over to her.

Before she could even sense him, he grabbed her and dragged her back to the main chamber.

Once inside, he turned around and slammed the doors shut, breathing heavily.

Immediately, everyone gathered around him, questions flying left and right, but he couldn’t muster any words.

He lifted a hand, signaling that they should wait, and they reluctantly stepped back, gazes stabbing into his body.

Those words echoed in his mind over and over.

Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Go to sleep.

What should he tell the others? Should he say anything at all?

Suddenly, his decision to reenter this realm, let alone drag the others with him, felt stupid and misguided. Who was it, then, that gave him the opening? Who was it that invited him here?

It sure as fuck hadn’t been Astrador.

He couldn’t get the image of the ghastly black splotch out of his mind. Was that some form of disease? If so, was it spreading from one monster to another?

If that was how that worked… Then, soon enough, every monster in the realm would be ‘liberated,’ or whatever that meant.

The problem was… Could it spread to the glass shrubs?

Could that ‘liberation’ spread to people?

The mere thought made his stomach churn, and he looked at his comrades in despair.

What if the manipulator grabbed hold of their minds as well?

“None of you,” he said, eyes bloodshot and gaze manic, “are leaving this chamber... ever again.”

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