The Jester of Apocalypse

Chapter 91: Thrive

Chapter 91: Thrive

Neave sat in the middle of the room, eyeing his allies. They had just explained what they had been doing, and he couldn’t believe it. It was nonsense.

“You… You have been fucking decorating? Oh, so, I tell you all that you better get used to discomfort as soon as possible, and the first fucking thing you do is go off and try to make yourselves as comfortable as possible!?”

Marven looked up, “Neave, that isn’t…”

“Shut the fuck up, geezer, let me speak. I respect that you at least tried building a wall, but…” Neave turned to Dukean, “Dude, you have an earth manipulation spirit power. Why don’t you just use it to clean the cave up?”

Dukean didn’t look offended in any way. He merely raised an eyebrow, “You’ve seen me use the power already. I can barely force this stone to reshape. The obsidian roots run through all the walls, which makes them unbelievably tough and difficult to affect with my spirit power. Sure, I can easily lift and carry the earth, but shape it? That isn’t as straightforward.”

“So… Why don’t you just evolve your power?”

“Ev–!? Are you out of your mind, Neave!?”

“Yes.”

Dukean sighed, “Even with rounded cores, I can barely defeat the trial as is! There are five gold-rank monsters in my spirit trial. If I add a monster of platinum rank, I will die!”

Neave raised an eyebrow at that, “How?”

Dukean had a look of absolute disbelief seared into his face, “Because it will become a monster of platinum rank!? How should I even be able to defeat that!?”

Neave squinted his eyes at Dukean, “Monster ranks don’t work the way cultivator ranks do, Dukey boy. The earth manipulation monster should be an earth golem, no? They’re slow as shit. Even a platinum-ranked one shouldn’t be a problem for you!”

Dukean frowned, mouth hanging open as he stared at the others, unsure whether he heard Neave right, “It’s going to throw boulders and rock shards at me. It doesn’t have to catch me to kill me!”

“Just dodge, idiot!”

Dukean gripped his face in frustration, “It’s not that easy!”

Neave looked confused in turn, “It’s… Not? Why!? How!? You’re like gold rank in power! And a bona fide prodigy! You should be able to do it…” Neave frowned harder and looked at the others, who all stared at him in shock, “Could it be… That you are all super weak?”

That was an absurd question, and all of them knew it. Neave was a monster that had nothing to do with ordinary cultivators. However, the evident disappointment radiating from this child’s face still made them all feel ashamed, even if they knew they had no reason to.

Neave sighed, “It was a mistake to leave you alone if you’re going to be this pathetic. I must give you something for protection until I finish my work.” He got up and disappeared.

The other’s all sat around in confusion, and as time passed, Neave didn’t seem to be returning any time soon. They were still waiting for him to come back, so they awkwardly spent time either meditating or chatting in hushed tones until he returned.

Neave reappeared before them, holding a transparent sword.

“Ta-dah! Here you go, lady and gentlemen! I present to you the Glass Shard!”

Marven frowned a bit. It was created from that unique glass substance Neave was growing, and at least it was shaped like a proper sword. In his hands, it should be possible to utilize much of its potential, even if the material itself wasn’t high-ranked.

He couldn’t help but ask himself whether that fight would have been easier with a weapon like this. The answer was yes, definitely. He could have utilized proper sword techniques then, and he wouldn’t have had to worry about it breaking as much.

Neave walked over to Marven and handed him the sword.

Marven reached a hand out to grab it. The instant his palm touched the glass handle, his sweat glands erupted, and he reflexively dropped the sword, jumping back to the other side of the room.

The weapon spun through the air, and Neave looked offended at Marven’s actions, “Old man, what are you–” Before he could finish the sentence, the sword touched the ground. It fell on the side, not even embedding itself into the earth, yet, cracks and lines rapidly spread through the floor around it.

“Woooooow!” Neave clapped his hands, “That’s fucking awesome!”

“Neave!? What the fuck is that thing!?” Marven shook and had to take measured breaths to calm himself. That was the single most horrifying weapon he had ever touched in his life. He looked down at the palm of his hand, which he had gripped the handle with.

Thin cuts spread throughout the palm, some bleeding a little. It was a perfectly smooth handle, yet it somehow managed to cut his hand open. The hand of a platinum path cultivator, one that had spent centuries wielding a blade.

“Come on, old man, don’t be a bitch!” Neave picked the sword up off the ground and casually threw it at Marven. Marven dodged as if the emperor had thrown a spear at his head.

The sword embedded itself into the wall, and cracks instantly spread everywhere, collapsing a section of the cave.

“Neave, I don’t know what that thing is, but please remove it immediately! That is dangerous!”

Marven looked at Neave and paused.

Neave looked absolutely furious. He stepped over to the sword, pulled it out of the wall, and began walking out of the cave, “Follow me, everyone.”

The rest of them glanced at each other and hesitated briefly before finally deciding to walk after him. Neave strolled casually, making his way through the overgrown caves.

Everyone walked behind him, carefully maneuvering through the dark underground passage, fearfully eyeing dark corners and other cave entrances.

Neave merely observed them and squinted his eyes. He scoffed and kept walking. The Glass Shard, as Neave had called it, was casually equipped in his hand. It occasionally passed near a branch or the wall, chipping bits and pieces off without even touching anything.

The others winced every time it happened.

Painstakingly slowly, they made their way out of the underground and onto the surface. Neave walked in front of them and soon stopped.

They stood behind him, eyeing his back. Neave was quite bulky for a kid of his age and height. Yet, even if one ignored his size, he was a giant.

The way he stood, the way he carried himself, it all spoke of his comfort. This unusual kid, a colorful being with pink hair streaked with red, somehow managed to slot perfectly into this realm of cold darkness and silence.

He stood there, back turned to the others, and let the time pass, daring any of them to speak.

None of them accepted the challenge.

Neave lifted the sword and spoke to them, “You aren’t stupid. Well, except for Hunter, maybe, but still, you aren’t fools. Except for Marven, maybe. Look, I’m trying to say you guys are perfectly normal.” He turned around and faced them, “Which is why you don’t belong here.”

The way he phrased that made everyone tense up. Was he about to kill them to kick them out?

“You are ignorant. Society binds the way you're meant to think and instills into you how concepts are meant to be respected and followed. You must reject that preconception. In here, there are no real rules other than those you set for yourself. Here, the only real threat lies inside your mind. I am going to show you,” Neave lifted the sword into the air above his head and turned around, “What it means to thrive in this world.” Neave got into a stance and pulled the sword back.

He smiled like a maniac as he felt the rush of excitement wash over him.

“Let’s show them together, glass slime!”

The sword lit up. Golden runes surrounded Neave, and he prepared himself for a swing. A gigantic, phantasmal image of a slime appeared above him, shining so brightly that even the eternal night turned to day.

Neave stepped forward, and his foot snapped into place with a resonant thud. The transparent glass sword moved, slowly pushing forward, a mighty gust of wind blowing dirt and dust away as more golden runes appeared around it.

The others wanted to move, and they tried to run away, but the overbearing pressure kept them firmly locked in place, frozen, eyes shot wide, observing the apocalyptic attack playing out before them.

Neave ponderously swung the sword through the air, “Hahahaha, let’s show them, you slimy bastard! Go! Wreck fucking everything!”

A shockwave of sharp, grating glass cuts exploded out from where Neave stood, crashing into the thick obsidian forest almost too fast to see, shattering the woods and crushing the landscape.

That shockwave was merely the prelude to the true strike. The air screamed, and a gust of horrid, sharp, cutting wind washed over everything. This wind didn’t shatter. It pulverized. Everything in its path was ground to dust as it pushed a tsunami of sand and obsidian powder away from where they stood.

The mighty gust of wind formed a tornado of glass that moved through the landscape and spread fine powder everywhere.

Once the aftermath of the swing had settled, a vast stretch of empty, flat land stood before them.

None of them could breathe. They didn’t want to either, as they feared inhaling some of the glass dust that still flickered through the air around them.

Neave put the sword down, “Did you see it, you cowards!?” He turned around to face them, showing his face that had been cut by the backlash of the strike, but was now healing rapidly before their eyes, “This is my world! This is what it means to thrive in the nightmare realm! If you think this is horrifying, in a few years, plenty of creatures here could do that, too. So you have to choose! Do you want to thrive!?” He narrowed his eyes at them and grinned harder, “Or do you want to leave?”

Neave threw the sword over to Marven again. The world froze. They all tensed up, and Marven felt as if he were faced with a heavenly trial. However, he managed to empty his thoughts. He relied on the endless years of muscle memory firmly planted into his body and caught the sword out of the air.

“Neave… Can you at least do something about this handle?” Marven’s hand shook as his blood flowed freely from his palm.

Neave grinned. He grabbed the sword from Marven’s hands and picked up a piece of obsidian. Liquid spirit flowed into the substance, and Neave lined the handle and guard of the blade in a thin, black layer of obsidian.

He handed Marven back the transparent blade, and Marven caught in. It no longer cut his hand, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable to hold. Marven could feel it. He could see it.

The second life a vengeful glass slime lived within a sword, its glassy world open for anyone who dared enter. He took a deep breath and politely asked Neave to make him a sheath.

Neave rolled his eyes but complied, and soon enough, the blade was snuggly hidden away in an obsidian scabbard.

“There you go. Now you should be safe from the demons for a while. I will go and do my thing now, and believe me, I will be busy. I hope to get this over with as soon as possible, and then I will come to babysit you guys again.”

Neave was about to leave, abandoning them on the surface, but Marven yelled, “Wait, Neave, can you leave us some food first?”

“Oh… Whoops, yeah, sorry, my bad.”

Neave disappeared again, leaving them alone on the surface anyway as he went off to bring them some food.

They all stood awkwardly, and slowly, they turned to face the destruction one by one.

The dust had settled. Now, a giant mound of sand lay past a flat wasteland before them.

This was what it meant to truly live in this realm, all of them thought as they tried to calm their pounding hearts.

A spark had been lit within all of them.

An unavoidable passion, born of their nature as cultivators, as defiers of the heavens and creatures that walked a neverending path of pursuit of power.

Perhaps they, too, could one day thrive as well.