Chapter 58: Salvation

Name:The Jester of Apocalypse Author:
Chapter 58: Salvation

Dukean considered himself to have excellent intuition. After he heard the report by the group of men about the demon child, he quickly concluded.

The young man he had met in the library, or rather, Deeze, was likely the brother of the rumored demon child. It was a simple connection to make. Dukean assumed that Deeze was in the capital because he was looking for his brother.

It was, however, a total mystery whether it was to drag him back, reconcile, or kill him.

Once Dukean had been dragged to handle this catastrophe by the elders of his sect and witnessed the black-haired child, his guess was only reaffirmed.

He believed the report of the men since all of them reported seeing the same thing. The consistency of witness reports was reliable evidence.

Many details, including how the child fought and his appearance, fit the description of the child decimating the ranks of the lizardmen. It was also clear that the boy was far more powerful than initially reported.

The fact that the hair color of this child was black rather than pink with red streaks only further encouraged Dukean’s guess. If he had disguised his hair for some reason, it would most likely be to hide from his brother.

However, all this information and his guesses may have become useless trivia—the demon child had been, right before Dukean’s eyes, turned into little more than a charred corpse.

***

The dragon's breath released a thick purple beam of violet destruction. The stream of energy traveled far through the capital, razing countless buildings to the ground and taking many lives.

As the crowds of cultivators witnessed and, more importantly, felt the power of this attack, they instantly decided.

It was time to run for their lives.

One need not be faster than the monster if they were faster than the other guy. This somewhat humorous saying was coming to a gruesome reality as the ghastly figures slaughtered the hordes of cultivators.

The stronger and faster ones were much quicker at getting away, as many weaker cultivators were left behind to die.

Several brave souls had thrown themselves in front of the dragon and its puppets, only to be shredded to mince before they could even make it pause for an instant.

Carnage ensued.

The puppet manipulating the purple crystal sent waves of tiny shards that shredded cultivators by the dozen.

The muscular one crushed skulls like pumpkins and shattered spines like dry twigs.

The one with the appearance of a little girl had to do little more than gaze at her victims to turn them into a vaguely ball-shaped mass of blood and gore.

The dragon lazily frolicked from one corpse to another, gorging itself on the flesh of its victims.

Few lizardmen were alive, but purple snakes still slithered everywhere.

The only moment of reprieve that the cultivators had received was once the slowest cultivators had been slaughtered. The dragon took its sweet time feasting on their corpses.

Greedily absorbing the power left behind.

***

Marven was already rather far from the rift when he witnessed the gigantic stream of energy decimate an entire section of the capital. He gritted his teeth and swore.

“Where the fuck is the Emperor!? Where are the great four!?” Marven was outraged. He shook, and sweat dripped all over his body.

What happened to Neave? Was he still alright?

Marven hoped that he was anywhere but in the path of that attack. Once he met with him again, they would likely be escaping the capital.

For now, he gripped Harel and Hunter as firmly as he could.

He wouldn’t let anything happen to them, even at the cost of his own life.

***

Carfen went to a nearby settlement within minutes of leaving the others. Once there, he walked up to the only teleportation circle available, which seemed to be owned by a private sect.

After running around, she found herself short on neat things to collect. The trail of goodies led her a bit into the underground. Finally, the feast was over, and she collected the last piece of precious metal off the ground.

Before her stood some sort of shiny, blurry entrance to a... Cave?

She could vaguely see the inside. As she walked closer, she discerned that it was an exit from the cave she was in. It led to another forest, albeit much thicker and more heavily overgrown.

She pondered. An unusual trail of precious metals and gems conveniently led to this entrance.

That was highly suspicious. Such tricks wouldn’t work on her.

This entrance was clearly hiding even more goodies! The bit of blurry mist obscuring it wasn’t going to trick her. Perhaps another golem, like herself, made this palace of wonder its haven?

If that was so, it was time to usurp them and take her rightful place.

She walked inside, appearing in a thick overgrown forest on the inside.

Now, it was time to go on a treasure hunt.

***

Kingean, Zhaore, and Beanna waited with trepidation. The Emperor shimmered back into view before them and nodded his head.

“It has gone inside. Gather yourselves. Do not let the Empire down.”

The cultivators all nodded, grim determination seared into their faces.

It was time to face what was likely the greatest crisis this content had ever encountered.

***

The scattered cultivators started regrouping and following the procedures for such events. The ones on the platinum path split into two groups, one trying to reach the emperor and the diamond path cultivators to seek their assistance. The others joined the weaker cultivators to evacuate everyone they could.

One of these groups breathed out a sigh of relief.

An armored man appeared on one of the teleportation platforms that was just being prepared for evacuation.

A glorious figure everyone instantly recognized as the hero that had arrived to be their savior.

The shield of the empire had arrived.

***

Where am I...?

Neave couldn’t see anything. He somehow managed not to lose consciousness despite the overwhelming majority of his body being destroyed.

His skin had been seared clean off, he had lost all four limbs, and only half of his left leg was barely attached to the rest of his body. His internal organs were all part, and some utterly destroyed.

Anyone that saw him would immediately assume he was little more than a mutilated corpse.

But he was alive.

He felt a small creature slither toward his body from the corner of his severely compromised spirit perception—one of the purple snakes.

It approached his body and tried taking a bite out of it. Neave’s flesh was tough, doubly so now that it had been roasted well past well done.

It tried again, only to fail once more. The snake gave up on the outer body and slithered toward the open torso, eyeing some delicious-looking organs.

Suddenly, Neave’s half-destroyed bowels shot out and enveloped themselves around the serpent. It fought and resisted, desperately trying to escape the pull of the slippery intestines but to avail. It was restrained, dragged between the organs, smashed to pieces, and shoved into the open stomach.

Its body visibly deteriorated as it absorbed into the stomach’s walls.

Moments later, Neave’s body recovered a little of its lost mass.