Chapter 108: Path

Name:The Jester of Apocalypse Author:
Chapter 108: Path

The cultivators stared at Neave with bated breath. What was the next step going to be?

“Dodge part two!”

A perfectly synchronized groan escaped their lips.

“But!” Neave gestured with his finger, “There are two things you must do first!” They perked up, anxiously anticipating anything besides continuing the eternal beatdown, “First, I will need you to leave the spirit realm with me and confirm the weapons I’ve brought! And second, you will all cultivate as high as you can in a short time. Except for Marven, of course.”

Their faces lit up upon hearing that.

Soon, they found themselves back in the real world, incredibly happy to be there. Gabrias cried a little, and even Hunter couldn’t stop himself from tearing up.

Neave raised an eyebrow at them, although they couldn’t see it due to his sunglasses, “Why are you crying?”

Gabrias spoke through whimpering breath, “I... It’s just been... So long.”

“So long since what?” Neave stared at him in confusion, quickly eyeing the others.

Hunter looked like he was doing his best to stop himself from crying. Harel looked excited, so Neave ignored her. Dukean looked... Grave? Determined? Marven had a relatively neutral expression on his face.

Their expressions left Neave bewildered. Did something happen without him noticing? Whatever, they were probably still a little insane.

He turned around and walked over to the bag of weapons, pulling them out individually, “I want you all to check the weapons out and tell me if you want me to make something else. Oh, and check this shit out.” The weapons were carefully handed to their recipients, and soon, they were followed by the trio of trinkets—the rings, wristbands, and necklaces.

Marven’s and Dukean’s eyes widened in shock upon seeing the rings. They were both about to speak up, but to their surprise, Harel spoke first, “Neave! This jewelry will probably kill us.”

“Oh no! How could have I been so careless!” Neave put on a faux frightened expression and continued, speaking in a slightly higher pitched voice than usual, “Oh, bother, I made a boo-boo.”

Harel rolled her eyes, “Is there some trick to it?”

Neave turned around and checked the bag to see whether he had missed anything, “Rounded cores mean no interference. Thus, you can have as many random trinkets as you want, well, as long as they aren’t the same type of trinket.”

The bag search complete, he turned around to face them. The others all stood and stared at him, mouths hanging open.

“Uh... Oh shit, did touching the weapons crush your spirit!?”

Marven stared at the three pieces of jewelry in his hand, “Neave, do you know what you’ve just created?”

“Uh, of course? Do you consider me a dumbass, Father?”

Instantly, all five of them rushed at him, screaming over one another and yelling out the names of random pieces of jewelry.

Neave caught everything they were saying and got the gist of it immediately, “Calm the fuck down, you toddlers. Yes, I understand the possibilities and implications.” They all opened their mouths to speak, but Neave interrupted them, “However... I can’t just make dozens of pieces of equipment and hand them to you all simultaneously.”

His finger pointed at the ring, wristband, and necklace on his body, “These three are the same in nature for a reason. I suspect something similar to how spirit powers work could happen, and this is a way to test that. Making a set of different pieces of equipment will likely require powers that are different in nature to avoid mutual interference. I haven’t noticed any problems with these trinkets, but I could be an exception. Trust me, experiments like these cause death rather frequently.”

“Harel...” Marven looked pained, “What happened to you!?”

Harel’s gaze grew cold as she turned to Marven, venom dripping from her expression, “What happened to me!? What happened to me!? I’m quitting the fucking sword, you dumbass!” Everyone turned to look at her, and she continued, taking measured steps toward Marven, “And what are you gonna do about it!?”

“I–!? It’s not about me, Harel! I can not simply stand idly and watch you throw your life’s work away!”

“My!? My life’s work!? You mean your life’s work!? You fucking did this! You are the one who forced me to take up the sword!”

“You were offered a choice!”

Harel opened her mouth wide, and her expression morphed into a manic grin, dripping in disbelief, “A choice!? A choice!? A choice!? You think I had the right to choose!? Do you really think an orphaned girl like me had a choice!? Do you really think a seven-year-old girl had the wisdom and insight to consciously sell herself for power!? An arranged marriage for a plant! Hah! That’s good old child prostitution, my dear friend, thinly veiled in dehumanizing sect politics!”

Marven was taking steps back, breathing heavily and finding himself short on words, “I–You... Do...”

“Just...” Harel shook her head, a tired expression on her face. She waved her hands dismissively and turned around, “I don’t really care. I’ve made my decision. As long as you fuck off and do your own thing, we are good. Alright?”

Marven didn’t look alright. His breath was speeding up, and he was gripping his heart. He dropped to his knees.

A flash of anger crossed Harel’s face, “Oh, please, don’t act all distressed about...”

“I’m sorry... Oh, I’m so sorry, Harel...” Marven smacked his head against the floor, prostrating himself before her and the others, “I’m so sorry. I have never intended to force you into a marriage. I was... Back then, I was going to muddy the waters long enough for you to become too important to be forced into something like that. I’ve done the same...” He cut his words off, and Harel knew what he wanted to add.

A compassionate expression flashed over her face, and she walked over to Marven. Then she kicked him full force, right in the face, knocking him back into the cavern's wall.

Marven took no damage from that strike, but it still jolted him away from his moping.

Harel walked over to him, slowly dragging the chained ball behind her. The weapon scraped the ground and left deep cracks wherever it touched.

She stopped several meters before him, lifted her finger to point at Neave, and spoke, “See your son over there? He is a crazy bastard who has completely lost his grip on reality at one point.”

Neave was insulted but stayed quiet, letting her finish, “In no small part, his situation is your fault.”

Another flash of pain crossed Marven’s expression. Still, rather than apologizing, consoling him, or taking it back, she continued, “Yet, instead of killing you for your sin, he has forgiven you. Instead of treating you like a dog or a servant, he sought a way to give you a purpose. Instead of running away and leaving us to die, he rushed back to find a solution together. Take a damn hint, you old bastard!”

Unable to stop the tears from flowing down her face, she continued, “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Marven. If he could forgive you for what you’ve done to him, then so can I.” She wiped her tears and chuckled, “You just have to stop being a fucking asshole already.”

Marven, tears rushing down his face as well, chuckled too and got up, hugging the shaking Harel.

Neave stared at them, mouth hanging slightly open.

Was I really doing all of that...?

His thoughts were interrupted when the world suddenly started spinning.

The only thing he could see was the panic in everyone's eyes as his dismembered head clattered to the ground.