The Jester of Apocalypse

Chapter 50: Recruitment

Marven maintained the same pace. Outwardly, there were no changes to his behavior.

Inwardly, he was cursing himself.

Large cities, such as the capital of the Empire, were horrifically hostile to spirit senses. There was an overabundance of people, and objects that interfered with spirit senses were everywhere. Not only were cloaking artifacts popular among the masses, but no sect also wanted someone to be poking their spiritual nose into their premises.

Trying to maintain constant attention to the nauseating soup of stimuli was torturous, which was why Marven had been mainly ignoring his spirit senses.

As he felt Hunter running toward Harel, he sorely regretted ever dropping his guard. Shaving his head was enough to make him unrecognizable from afar, but hunter would see right through him if he got too close.

Marven subtly pinched his shoulders with his fingers and readjusted his back to change his posture. He quickly readjusted the muscles in his face. While he couldn’t change his facial structure, he could at least appear slightly different.

He decided to close his eyes entirely and depend on his spiritual senses. Hunter would likely recognize his eyes.

He wasn’t confident that this would be enough. All he could bet on now was the benefit of the doubt.

***

Harel spotted Hunter too late.

Aw, crap!

She couldn’t hide or run away now. Initially, he sprinted toward her. She saw him readjust his pace as he likely noticed that what he was doing was rather embarrassing.

Eventually, once he reached close enough, he adjusted his pose to appear more dignified and casually strolled up to Harel.

“Greetings, Harel.”

Harel seriously contemplated pretending that she didn’t recognize him. However, she sighed and greeted him instead.

“Greetings, Hunter.”

She remained silent and stared at him.

Hunter awkwardly shuffled around. He wanted to ask a lot but couldn’t think of anything. Eventually, he settled for a simple question.

“How did you end up in the capital?”

“That’s... I’m sorry, but that’s none of your concern.” Harel was desperately hoping she could chase him away before Marven noticed him. Marven didn’t want to have anything to do with his family.

She feared the consequences of letting them back into his life and what it would do to his mental state.

Hunter either didn’t notice her tone, or he intentionally ignored it.

“Do you mind if I ask what you are doing here?” Even though he acted as if he couldn’t register Harel’s attitude, he now adopted a slightly more polite tone.

It was almost unsettling seeing him trying to be polite. Harel wanted to maintain her dismissive attitude, but something about his behavior made her almost feel bad for him.

What she wanted to know was what was he doing here?

“I am currently aiding my new master in constructing a sect.”

“I… I see. Would this new sect perhaps… Just theoretically, be open to taking new disciples?”

Now Harel actually felt terrible for him. He must have gone through quite the ordeal to find himself without connections while stuck in the capital.

“I am really not qualified to…”

Suddenly, right at Harel’s side, Marven appeared. She jumped a little and panicked but paused as she looked at him. He didn’t look like a different person, per se, but he was different enough that she would pass him on the street without batting an eye if she didn't pay attention.

Marven spoke in a very different voice now.

“Greetings, Junior. I am an elder of the Falken sect. I apologize for my rudeness, but I overheard your question to our young mistress. We are not currently accepting disciples into our sect.”

Hunter’s mood dropped like a stone, and he visibly shrank upon hearing that.

“... However, if you are an acquaintance of our mistress, we would be glad to assist you with getting settled somewhere else. Getting into a sect in the capital is rather challenging and may take some time, but you seem quite talented. Have you considered working as an apprentice in a shop first?”

Hunter’s mood tanked even harder. It wasn’t like it didn’t cross his mind, but he had been a cultivator in a martial arts sect from birth. There was little he knew outside of training and combat.

He was somewhat advanced for his age. If he spent a year without proper training, he would fall behind. Even if he did get a job, that would likely be the end of his life as a martial artist.

The longer he worked, the more his chances of getting into a sect would plummet.

Hunter bit his tongue and prepared himself. He didn’t want that. He would at least ask them to get him to another city if he were getting charity.

Just as he was about to open his mouth, Harel and Marven winced a little. Marven almost opened his eyes in shock.

Hunter turned around and froze. Right behind him stood a tall young man that looked around his age. Everything about this young man reminded him of his father.

And a few things, such as his peculiar hair, reminded him of Neave.

Neave stared at Hunter casually and asked.

“Greetings, junior.” Then he turned to Marven, “Elder, do you mind introducing me?”

Marven stood frozen for a few seconds but quickly composed himself.

“Young master. I apologize, but I do not know this young man’s identity. He seems to be acquainted with the young mistress.”

Hunter was thoroughly confused. He just didn’t know what to think. Who was this? Was this perhaps a long-lost brother of his? He wouldn’t be surprised if this young man were indeed his brother. Marven had a reputation for spreading his seed way too haphazardly.

…

No, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He couldn’t resist asking.

“I apologize for my insulting question, senior, but are you perhaps a son of Marven Zearthorn?”

Harel and Marven winced. Surprisingly, Neave maintained his composure and asked him a question in return.

“Wait… If you’re acquainted with the young mistress, could you perhaps be from the Zearthorn sect?”

Hunter replied immediately.

“Yes, I am.”

“No wonder you knew Harel then, hahaha. Wonderful, wonderful. Should I assume you are a brother of mine?”

Harel and Marven gaped. Luckily Hunter’s back was turned to them. They had no idea what Neave was playing at, but they were doing their best to decipher his plans.

Hunter smiled pleasantly at Neave and bowed a little.

“Greetings, brother!” Hunter turned serious, “Is father here in the capital?”

Neave contemplated for a moment but shook his head with a sad expression.

“Perhaps, but I doubt it. That old man came seeking my mother recently. When he heard of her passing, he told me to look after Harel and left. I have no clue where he had gone.”

“I see…” Hunter wasn’t sure whether he should be glad that Marven wasn’t here.

“I seem to have failed to introduce myself. I am Deeze, and as you have assumed, I’m one of Marven’s sons. And as I assume, you have probably never heard of me.”

Hunter chuckled at that one.

“You are indeed correct. Even if father had told me of all the children he had, I would likely not remember all of them.”

“Truly. What a piece of irresponsible shit he is.”

Marven gritted his teeth a bit at that one.

Hunter took a deep breath.

“Indeed. I’ve heard from Harel that a new sect was being constructed here. I am unfamiliar with your situation, but I assume it must be complicated. It is shameless of me to ask you this, but… I am in rather dire need of assistance. Your elder told me this sect won’t accept disciples for a while, so I will...”

“What are you saying, brother? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to fix the problems that old man has caused! I will gladly vouch for you to be accepted into our sect if you please.”

Hunter perked up.

“Truly? You may look like father, but it’s clear you’ve inherited your personality from your mother.”

Neave laughed at that one and patted Hunter on the back.

“I would have to agree with you on that one!”

Harel and Marven stared in complete confusion.

***

A meeting was underway in the main chamber of the Onyx Scorpion sect.

The sect master and one of the more important elders were both missing.

They were spotted leaving the sect premises together and hadn’t returned since. The most bizarre aspect of their disappearance was that, quite literally, nobody seemed to have seen them anywhere.

The moment they walked outside, they simply vanished.

The emergency meeting had been underway for a while. Not even half an hour into the session, the council decided to go into lockdown.

Their leading theory for what was happening so far was simple. A large sect had decided to systematically dismantle their sect. The ‘young master’ from the other day had already been exposed as a fraud.

The council had sent an emergency message to the Deagon sect. While waiting for someone from the sect to arrive, they huddled together in paranoia, deathly afraid that the assailants would resort to a more direct approach.

If whoever was attacking was capable of vanishing their sect master, they could definitely destroy the entire sect.

The council just hoped that their call would be answered in time…

***

Heavy armor was essential attire for anyone living within the Kurlore sect. Whether it was a casual occasion or a meeting with the emperor, every member was to be fully armored in public.

The armor produced by their blacksmiths was precious. But that didn’t make it convenient to move around in. This was why it was important for all members to get comfortable with wearing the armor regardless of what they were doing. Heavy armor could only get so optimized, after all.

Even while sleeping, the members of the sect slept in armor. Armor thus became something of an expression of one’s identity.

It was easy to recognize specific individuals simply based on their armor. This was true for all of the sect members but the employees. Those who were part of the sect but didn’t play a role as martial artists wore the same armor.

It was an elegant steel armor that didn’t provide the most outstanding defense since it was designed to be as convenient to move in as possible.

However, it was still full armor, and something about full uniform armor was quite effective at getting people out of the way.

Around forty or so individuals walked down the halls of the Kurlore sect.

In front stood two figures. An elder of the sect, a man wearing full armor, silver in color, and an outsider that wore full golden armor.

Behind them was a group that all wore the standard uniform armor of the sect—a group of demons disguised as employees of the sect.

The group made their way out of the sect and into the streets of Keyishin.

Ilkivir raised his arm, and all the demons paused, took a deep breath, and subtly hinted in a direction.

“So the child is in the capital after all…” Ilkivir said and nodded to the man wearing silver armor.

The group walked in the direction indicated by the demons—toward the newly created Falken sect.