The Jester of Apocalypse
Chapter 135: Investigation

Kingean had believed that he could never forgive Beanna for her mistake. Their comrade’s life—and the failure to subdue a great calamity—was an unacceptable price to pay.

Yet, it didn’t take long for the ice around his heart to be melted by the eternal fire burning from within. Indeed. Although he would never admit it, as he couldn’t act on these feelings, he had been deeply in love with Beanna for a long, long time. From even before he met his late wife.

Or so he had been. But those feelings were beginning to waver.

Kowtowing beside his two lifelong friends and the newcomer, he did as was wise and showed Hosolar utmost respect. Despite his pride, he had to acknowledge the feelings of fear he had. The emperor was an unreachable peak—Hosolar was a mountain with no end in sight.

But he didn’t shake. He had faced danger before. His pride wouldn’t allow him to show even the slightest hints of fear.

Beanna, on the other hand, was shaking profusely. She was sweating and eyeing the demigod with concern in her gaze.

Disgusting, shameful behavior.

But Kingean was confused. He was concerned, too. Why was she reacting like that? Not only that, but even Carfen was shivering slightly, although it was hard to perceive. Xondir responded similarly, but he was newly ascended and not nearly as used to facing such power.

To Hosolar, their reactions went entirely unnoticed. They were far below him, so he probably expected this. To him, Kingean was perhaps the most unusual one.

But to Kingean, the behavior of Carfen and Beanna was beyond bewildering.

He knew them. Better than perhaps even himself.

The righteous, almost self-destructive defender Carfen. He was a smartass with no sense of humor, a stickler for the rules, and a reckless shield who would throw himself at a dragon if needed. He was anything but a coward. Kingean had never seen him shiver. Never. Even under far worse circumstances.

Then, there was Beanna. The beautiful, cheerful woman who had a carefree attitude in almost every situation. Now, seeing her breathing raggedly and quivering, shooting concerned glances at the demigod, she looked… She looked like a stranger to him.

***

Beanna was trying her best to restrain her reaction. And she was failing miserably. How could this be? They were so close to usurping the stone and winning the realm over for their masters. But this bastard just had to appear at the worst time.

She was a human. From her skin to her flesh, from her flesh to her spirit—there was no more trace of Xaraleth’ara’than, the demon she used to be. With an ancient devil artifact and mass human sacrifice, she had performed a perfect reincarnation into a true human—in every aspect but her soul.

So she couldn’t help it. Being in the presence of such divine authority was too much for a demon only at the beginning of the subdivinity stage.

Even Carfen couldn't entirely resist the suppression despite the protection of the Hundred Archdemons’ Supreme Bulwark. And Xondir, a human through and through, shook merely out of fear.

The emperor returned from being kicked out and kowtowed directly below the demigod, showing utmost humility. Had Hosolar killed him, their greatest challenge would have been resolved. Unfortunately, the heavenly bastard knew the utility this invader provided to the stability of their influence, so he wouldn’t do such a thing.

That accursed child was to blame for all of this. She wanted to tear that Lost Child limb to limb and devour him, but she was powerless to do so.

Or was she? Perhaps they could all volunteer to help track the child down.

Just as she had these thoughts, a man’s voice could be heard yelling from the courtyard.

***

Lank had reached the lowest point of his life. His clothes looked ragged yet again, and for a while already, he had been nothing but a beggar in the streets, with only his brother at his side.

He himself was filthy and sickly looking, his long black hair greasier than ever, but Bev… His brother had been plump until a while back, but under all the stress, he had rapidly thinned, and now, he looked deathly skinny, with even his mustache appearing less lush than it used to be.

The story of how they reached such a low started with their meeting with Young Master Dukean. As repayment for their information, they demanded the funds to travel to the Bonmiele Theocracy. He refused.

Apparently, those Bentheta bastards had tricked them. Teleporting them close to the border was relatively easy. But the border itself was impossible to pass through by ordinary means.

The only real way to get to the theocracy would be to teleport there directly, but that needed the favor of a large sect and a lot of money if they wanted to get thirty people over.

Thankfully, Young Master was an honorable figure. For the value of their information, that boy had repaid them by recommending Lank and his men to be taken as servants in one of the Emperium subordinate sects. They were offered that they'd be teleported if they worked without pay for two years. It was a long time, but compared to the safety of a large sect and the value of their word, they had no better option.

As soon as they were employed, his men ran their mouths like absolute morons and revealed the circumstances of their fight with the demon child. They bragged about how they nearly got him and how they valiantly escaped despite three gold-path cultivators falling to the demon’s grasp.

Such was human nature. They all clung to anything they believed made them important, no matter how insignificant.

They hadn’t expected, however, that so soon after, the one they knew as the demon child would be declared a hero of the empire. Then, all of a sudden, their bragging was instantly subverted into heresy of the highest order.

Although they couldn’t be killed due to their connection to Young Master Dukean, nobody wished to have anything to do with them.

Just as they got a safe job to save up for their trip to the Bonmiele Theocracy, they were stripped of all they had and exiled.

The hopes of making it on time were becoming slim.

He remembered that woman’s words. Within a mere five years, this entire continent would likely be destroyed. Why? He didn’t know. But he felt that the mystical realm, which had wrecked half the capital, might be an early sign of that destruction.

Then, just as he felt the final vestige of hope leaving him, she appeared. Her beauty was as unrivaled as he remembered, and her glory was as untameable as the stars themselves. The stunning visage of the woman he had encountered, of the one who had warned him of the fate of this continent, appeared in the sky.

However, before it could fully take place, his hope was utterly obliterated. Why did the heavens hate him so? What were the odds that she would be the mother of that child?

Madness encroached upon his mind, and he couldn’t stop himself from cackling violently.

But then, he calmed. His eyes gleamed sharply. The situation was becoming do or die. The child hadn’t seen any of their faces back then. She didn’t have to find out the truth. It was stupid and reckless, but nothing but death and misery awaited him anyway. There was no reason not to make one final, reckless gamble.

He dragged Bev along as the two men ran toward the capital's center. Everything was in utter chaos, so nobody stopped the two silver-path cultivators from pushing through the gates.

Their legs carried them forward, and they completed their mad dash faster than he believed they could.

The guards who usually kept the palace safe were nowhere to be seen, as they had likely been sent to find the child. The protective barrier was also gone, probably lowered to allow the demigod to project the image into the sky.

It was perfect. Luck was finally working in their favor. Lank completed his mad dash into the courtyard, leaving his brother to wait outside, and he spotted a large hole in the side of the palace.

“Hey!” he screamed. “Oh, Great Heavenly Messenger! I have information about the Lost Child!”

***

Brivia recognized the voice coming from the outside. Her memory was perfect, after all. But hearing it was a surprise. This was one of the people she had encountered during her many expeditions into the wider world.

Hosolar showed no reaction to the man’s voice, as was expected. If the man honestly had something of value to say, he’d have forwarded that to one of the numerous servants who had arrived here with them.

Oh well. More out of idle curiosity than anything, she stepped forward and revealed herself to the decrepit being. The despicably ugly human dropped to his knees and prostrated himself as he saw her.

She couldn’t help but sigh upon seeing this. After all, this man was a remnant of a failed experiment.

Those who had tainted their souls with monster spirit were useless; their lives were lower than those of cats and dogs. She had worked hard to try and dissuade these barbarians from partaking in the use of such taboo means, but…

Indeed, all those who witnessed her heavenly beauty, or at least most, heeded her words and quit their wretched ways. But those they forwarded her words to weren't so quick on the uptake.

Thus, the experiment was, as was unfortunately predictable, a complete and utter failure.

Even if tainted, those cores provided power. Between choosing a noble death and living a wretched life, these animals would always pick the latter. Her false promise of salvation wasn’t enough to replace the certainty of corrupting one’s soul and using that power for survival.

“I know something that could help you find him!” the man continued yelling. “There is a young master of the Emperium sect who was looking for him!”

She cocked her eyebrow at that. From behind her, something akin to a strangled squeal came from the one named Kingean, and she scoffed internally. This could be a fun distraction.

“Very well,” she graced him with her pure voice. “Speak!” she commanded.

“His name is Dukean! He was looking for Neave, and me and my men had encountered him once!”

“Really!?” she said in mock surprise, putting on a concerned expression. “Where?”

“That…” he hesitated. “That is irrelevant. What’s important is that once we told Young Master the hair color of the child we met, he reacted quite strongly! I believe he might have already met him!”

The lowly green-haired individual behind her squealed again, and that settled it for her.

Before the prostrated man could even begin to react, Brivia flashed forward and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him into the air. “You are saying some interesting stuff,” she said in a cold, detached voice, void of all the mock concern. “Now say that again, this time under spirit oath.”

The man repeated his words, and she was caught by surprise. He was telling the truth. She returned to the throne room and bowed to Great God’s Holy Proginy. “The man speaks the truth,” she informed him dutifully. “I believe this might be a good place to look.”

“Very well,” he responded, walking over to Kingean. “You are the master of this ‘Emperium’ sect, correct?”

Kingean nodded hesitantly.

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Both Hosolar and Brivia followed the hesitant cultivator as he trekked back to his sect. There, they searched. And what they discovered only made them more confident that they were on the right path.

One of the elders claimed to have witnessed someone kidnap the young master from the crowd a while back.

The news upset the boy’s father, but their mood improved.

They inquired around, asking about that young master’s habits and where he had been recently. He visited the library often, they said. There, he met someone who had long pink hair with red locks.

The exact hair color the son from her memory had. Not only that, but some interesting details surrounded this individual’s actions in the library.

They tracked down another descendant of these ‘Great Four.’ It was a somewhat plump girl with striking orange hair. They brought her into the throne room and interrogated her.

She shared the story of her encounter with the person they guessed to be Neave.

Her description confirmed they had found who they were looking for.

But that wasn’t all they wanted from the girl. She was beautiful. She was a striking young lady who could easily belong among the most outstanding of Langen youth if she shed her extra body weight.

So, with a bright grin on her face, Brivia turned to face the girl’s grandmother. “Your descendant is most beautiful, Beanna,” she teased. “I shall thus grant her the privilege of joining Langen and our cause.”

***

Kingean was well on his way to spitting blood from outrage. How fucking dare this bitch!? First, they treat the disappearance of his son as if it were a mild curiosity, not even permitting him to look for Dukean, and now they wish to kidnap Beanna’s descendant!? This was an insult well above anything he had ever—

“As you wish, Your Grace.” someone said in a voice he recognized. But he didn’t want to believe his ears.

He turned slowly, eyes wide open as he faced the shivering Beanna. She clasped her hands, and without any desire to protest, she surrendered her very flesh and blood to these bastards. True… there was no hope. Everything they could say and do would be futile in this scenario. He was sure she knew that.

But this? This level of subordination?

He couldn’t believe it.

His eyes saw the same person he had seen countless times, yet with each second that passed, she became more and more of a stranger to him. Something was wrong. This wasn’t how Beanna should react.

And his eyes slid to face Carfen, who knelt beside her. Why wasn’t he speaking up? He knew this man well enough to know that he would never stand for such injustice. No…

Who were these people?

His thoughts were interrupted as the young Maecy began crying. “No…” she protested. “Please, don’t take me!” she begged. “I’ll give you more information; I just remembered something else!” She pleaded desperately. “I heard some rumors! He…

“He said that he was from the Falken sect!”

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