The Jester of Apocalypse - Chapter 130: Regret
Neave left Sateron alone and ran off into the distance. He didn’t really know how to feel about the young man. 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.
Neave turned and ran toward the position of the suspension bridge. He couldn’t go exactly where it was since that 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 Neave 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.
Neave 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 with 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 Neave 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 Neave’s 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 toward Neave and spoke again, “The Jester stands before me.”
For a mere moment, Neave 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 Neave 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.”
Neave 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…”
Neave dashed forward, grabbing 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 Neave’s 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, Neave 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.
Neave 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. 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, Neave 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…
Neave screamed and swung his hammer down again, “Fucking shit!”
Did this mean that the manipulator controlled the demons? 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. Leaving the others alone had been a terrible idea, after all.
As his willpower surged, so did his speed, and soon, Neave found himself blazing over the environment, running far faster than he ever could before his fusion of spirit powers.
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 he could contain within his body, and he was forced to rapidly push it out, even with how quickly he was consuming 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 here except for Harel.
Neave 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.
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.
There were several of those things. Did that mean that they could spread? Even if Neave had slaughtered them, so many slimes had escaped into the nightmare realm.
If the demons, or perhaps, the manipulator, was trying to ‘liberate’ the monsters, or whatever that meant, did that mean that…
Neave couldn’t get the image of the ghastly black splotch out of his mind.
What if another monster consumed such a core? Would it spread to it as well?
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 turn, and he looked at his comrades in despair.
What if the manipulator grabbed hold of their minds as well?
“Guys… I think you should all die.”