The Jester of Apocalypse

Chapter 145: A True Immortal Arts Practitioner

The hundred and ten holy servants stepped their way into the depths. As they made their way past one desolate cavern after another, they gradually gathered speed.

A golden-haired woman with purple eyes led the charge, marching in the front as she kept her eyes peeled for any enemy activity. Her name had been Pitria. But now, that name meant nothing to her. All she was was servitude itself, no more important than a single sword-swing by the Great God’s Holy Proginy.

She couldn’t stop her heart from leaping in joy at the fact that her death would be so glorious. Oh, the jealousy she saw in that wretched Brivia’s eyes was something that she would savor until her very end. What potential the impeccable demigod saw in that woman was not for her question. But she couldn’t stop herself from committing that one tiny act of blasphemy in the depths of her soul.

Even if the demigod had forgiven her, even if the heavens themselves had excused her sins, it didn’t change the fact that she had born a child that turned its nasty fangs against the Heavenly Alliance.

Alas, those thoughts would be purged with her death. Her beauty as the most valiant servant would excuse her minor transgression.

Although with their number advantage, it would be wisest to split up, they knew that that would make them extremely vulnerable. The child had already proven itself capable of taking down someone at the second stage of subdivinity—splitting up would be a recipe for getting picked apart one by one.

Thus, they marched together, prepared to lay their lives down at any moment if it meant making any progress toward catching the child. Their path took them deeper and deeper. For many hours, they found nothing but greater depths and scattered monsters.

Until they stepped into a vast, open cavern of pure darkness. It was too dark. Unnaturally so. There was a trick involved, and the air itself was filled with an alchemical substance that could almost entirely block even their superior vision.

A sound echoed through the empty space. It was akin to metallic grating, with an electric, deep hum undertoning it.

“Wait!” she commanded. “There is something in here.” She could sense it.

Suddenly, right in the middle of the empty cavern, two purple dots lit up in the darkness. In an instant, the air grew transparent, and they could see their opponent.

But it wasn’t who they expected to see.

A two-meter tall figure clad in full, black armor stood in the middle of the room. A purple glow accented the joints.

Something about that figure was deeply unnatural. She couldn’t sense any cultivation coming from it, but the inside of the armor was brimming with intense energy.

The black figure suddenly spoke, “WELCOME,” it said in a monotone, metallic voice that sounded like it was almost being filtered through something. “TARGETS DETECTED: ONE HUNDRED AND TEN. INTIATING PROTOCOL ONE: FIRST STRIKE.”

The being lifted its left arm, and its palm opened to show a circular opening blaring with purple energy. In a mere moment, the energy density spiked way beyond anything reasonable as it compressed and sent a pure beam of thin, purple energy flying toward their group.

“Evade!” she screamed, but it was too late.

A woman’s torso was speared straight through, the armor melting away like ice in the path of the intense beam of energy. She coughed a small plume of smoke and spat a bucket of blood as she dropped dead to the ground.

“OH SHIT,” the armored form spoke again, this time in a slightly more human-sounding cadence. “I DID NOT EXPECT THAT TO ACTUALLY KILL SOMEONE.”

Pitria screamed in primal fury as she charged at the figure at a speed it clearly wasn’t prepared to face. Her greatsword rose to strike the armored form down. But the armored individual was already raising its right arm. From right above the wrist, a black blade rushed out, catching her by surprise.

She moved from an attack to a block. That turned out to be a mistake. The black blade vibrated so intensely that it felt like it was shaking the space itself apart. Upon making contact with her greatsword, even though it felt like it was of inferior material, it still left deep cracks running along the length of her weapon.

Her enemy tried to use her moment of bewilderment to kick her in the stomach, but that failed as she used her superior speed to get out of the way. She was ashamed to admit that without her overwhelming speed advantage, she would stand no chance against this opponent.

The moment she used to dodge, however, wasn’t wasted by her opponent as it conjured another beam of purple energy that speared another one of her comrades, killing them instantly.

She screamed as she kicked the armored form right in the torso. The material that armor was made of didn’t even budge under the force of her strike, but she was able to send her opponent flying back.

The rest of her allies weren’t pushovers. They wouldn’t take it lying down. Numerous flying strikes of pure white, be they in the form of crescent moons or straight beams or physical arrows, rushed at the armored form while it was still in the air.

Their opponent either deflected the attacks or dodged them with insulting ease, treating the residual energy that brushed against its armor as less significant than the air itself.

Before the black figure could land, a man wielding a heavy axe rushed in to slice him apart at the waist, and it truly appeared like he would succeed, until the absolute last moment, when their enemy flicked its arm and severed both the axe in half and the man right down the middle.

By that point, they all understood—this wasn’t a fight they would through straightforward means. Pitria rushed in, once more displaying her overwhelming power as she dashed forward, reaching the armored figure in a blink.

Utterly disregarding the backlash, she half-formed a technique that usually required more setup to dish out as much damage as she could with a single swing. Her sword met black metal, leaving a deep gash down the armored form’s torso. She would have expected the feeling of a sword cutting through guts and muscle.

But her eyes widened as she only discovered more metal.

Her move bought enough time for ten of her allies to create a formation. They surrounded the figure and put their hands together, chanting under their breath.

The air around the black form thickened, and the being found itself frozen in the middle of the air. Ethereal, white chains conjured out of nothing as the sacrificial seal was formed around the form’s limbs, completely inhibiting their movement.

Stolen novel; please report.

“INITIATING ENERGY DISCHARGE,” it said once more, returning to its monotone cadence.

Numerous holes all across its body opened as purple energy began rushing out in absurd quantities. It was undirected and chaotic, merely swirling and spreading as it slowly converted into pure heat and electricity.

The chains snapped one after another as they were corroded away, and her ten allies dropped dead, their bodies turned into nothing but pale husks as a consequence of their meaningless sacrifice.

Fury filled her as she gritted her teeth. They would all die anyway. But she couldn’t tolerate seeing servants sacrificing themselves for nothing! The creature had done something drastic, and it had clearly left it drained of energy. She used this opening to charge in and successfully stab her sword right into the enemy’s torso.

Before she could confirm it—she felt it. Where the heart, or at least a core, should be, there was absolutely nothing but metal.

“INITIATING SELF-DESTRUCTION PROTOCOL.”

She tried backing away, but before she could even release her sword, black chains enveloped all over her, tying her down to the black figure as the metal rapidly heated up. With a blinding flash of purple light, the entire cavern was filled with violent energy. The burst wounded many and even outright killed three servants with the impact.

Her armor was severely damaged, and the surface of her skin blistered with the explosion. But the creature—no, this wasn’t just any random enemy. This must have been that demonic child. She had heard it speak in surprise at the beginning. It had attained immense power through unholy means, modifying its own body by combining itself with a golem.

How repulsive! And to think it harbored such hatred that it would kill itself just to see her die. Well, truthfully, she was doing pretty much the same thing, but she was doing it for a noble cause.

But she wasn’t dead yet. She would die soon, but she still had maybe a few weeks of life. How could she make herself useful? What else could she do to serve the great—?

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the metallic sound again. This time, it was coming from three directions. She turned to spot three more figures appearing from different directions as their purple eyes lit up.

“Dear heavens…” she whispered. “What are we up against!?”

“TARGETS DETECTED,” they spoke at once. “NINETY-FOUR REMAINING. INITIATING PROTOCOL TWO: STAGE ONE: DODGE.”

She barely got out of the way as two of the figures rushed straight at her, accelerating by pushing purple energy in dense jets out of their feet to fly forward. Two buzzing blades danced around her, and she found herself nearly powerless to dodge.

She was fast enough to do it, but it was as if these creatures could tell exactly where she was going to go. Her immensely tough flesh couldn’t be severed so easily, but the insanely powerful vibration was still enough to enable the edge to cut right into her skin and even crack her armor.

Her focus waned as she heard the screams of the other servants. One by one, they fell as the third armored form slaughtered them. She couldn’t let this continue. In the depths of her body, her life force ignited, burning with the force of a miniature star.

With the added speed, her arm moved too fast for the creature to react as she reached out and tore its entire arm out and smashed the other one right into its head.

“INITATING SELF-DESTRUCT—” the one with its arm torn out tried, but her predatory gaze fell on it instantly.

A heavenly blade appeared before her as she swung her arm down. A mighty unicorn, a creature of true purity and holy power, appeared as its horn rammed straight through the armored form, turning its entire body into scrap metal before it could explode. Her arm suddenly went limp as all life abandoned it.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t fast enough to stop the other one as she heard the metallic voice and felt the heat rise behind her back. But she wasn’t tied down this time. She rushed forward, and the force of the explosion just barely caught up to her. But it was enough. The impact sent her flying into the cavern wall.

She dragged herself out only to spot that this explosion had once more taken several lives.

But the other one wasn’t done tearing her comrades apart. With an intense scream, as she pushed her mangled body forward, she swung her other arm again. From hundreds of meters away, the holy visage of the unicorn flew at its target in a straight line.

It would be trivial to dodge it. Would, if ten of her comrades didn’t sacrifice their lives to seal the armored form in place again for a mere moment.

The horn tore the armored form apart, and the room went silent. Only fifty people were still alive.

Terror, unlike anything she had ever felt in her life, filled her body to the brim as she heard that same noise again.

One… two… three… ten more armored forms appeared around them as they stepped into the cavern.

Even though they had already sacrificed their lives, they couldn’t help but lose all hope as their morale plummeted. One head after another rolled under the tyrannical charge of the black forms. In mere seconds, they killed five people each and left the room empty of life.

All except her, who still stood, her body mangled and both her arms hanging uselessly to the side.

Her eyes were wide open as she witnessed the carnage. Suddenly, a glowing form of a slime rushed into the room and collected all the bodies before disappearing. As it vanished, the ten armored figures turned to face her, sending an intense shiver down her spine.

But then, out of nowhere, a man appeared. The tall form of Hosolar manifested from nothing and stood right before her with Brivia by his side.

“You have done a good job,” was all he said to her.

That was enough for her. With that, she could die happy as the last of her life force burned away and her body dropped dead to the ground.

***

‘Uh-oh, the big boss himself showed up,’ Neave thought.

“YO, WHAT’S UP, HOSOLAR!?” he greeted the man through one of the golorgs as if he were greeting an old friend. “I HEARD YOUR DAD’S PRETTY ANGRY WITH ME.”

“Silence, demonic entity,” his mother, whom he had been ignoring until then, said. “Do not speak to the demigod so casually.”

“Awww… I thought you’d let me play a bit, Mom,” he teased in his regular voice as he turned off the voice converter. “You better spoil me rotten if you want forgiveness for abandoning me.”

She showed no reaction to that. Pity.

Hosolar sighed. “I see you are unmoved by the appearance of your mother. Truly, you are beyond saving.”

Neave shrugged as he faced his mother again. “Mother… If you want, I can still forgive you. Marven still misses you.” He stretched his arm out.

Her face morphed into the picture of anger at those words. “How dare you mention that bastard’s name to me!?” she shouted. “All he ever did was ignore my warnings and advice as he allowed the sect to rot at the hands of those demons!” she yelled as he took an aggressive step forward. “I was forced to fake my death since I had no other escape from that hellish place! Every damn day they bullied and tormented me with their petty power games and politics.

“You should know what I’m talking about…” she said as her expression softened slightly. “Didn’t you destroy the sect for the same reason!? What right do you have to judge me for running away!?” Her screams turned into tears as something within her cracked. “And look what they did to you…” she said, unable to keep looking at the armored form Neave was speaking through.

“… Coward,” he shot back. “You fucking coward!” he screamed. “You can play the victim card all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that you left me behind while you ran off to play with these tyrants!”

“Oh, please!” she spat. “You fit in just fine. You were turning out to be every bit the child your father wanted you to be. I couldn’t bear to stay behind and watch you rot as they corrupted you and took you away from me!”

That made Neave pause. Indeed, while his mother was still there, he had been on the trajectory to become the prodigy of the next generation. He learned fast and absorbed that lifestyle like a sponge did water. His life only changed once he thought she was dead. It was only then that he started feeling disgust at the violence she had lived by.

It was only then that he began fearing the instrument of her downfall.

A sense of sickness bubbled in the depths of his soul. Until that point, he had believed that he could maintain his indifference upon meeting her. He believed he had the absolute moral high ground. So why did…? Why did her story hold so much weight?

He felt deeply ill at her words. Maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong. But if so, what should he—?

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‘Take a seat back and watch, failure.’ words echoed in his mind as everything went dark. 'This is how a true immortal arts practitioner deals with a destroyer.’