The God of Jesters
Chapter 228 - 4.05.1 Back at it again.

Chapter 228: 4.05.1 Back at it again.

Were the Gods a kind existence?

No, not at all. They were far from kind. Even Lakram, the Thousand Face Tree who was considered a harmless being in fiction held an entirely different past that was not noted down in the notes I have come across.

The time when his filth had infiltrated my body, I had a small connection to it, I could see its past, its many faces, and how it got those faces.

A wonderful existence that sent shivers down my spine, if I had any.

And look what happened to that God’s lineage, with its death, there only exists one of its bloodline, teetering on the brink of death. Even a great existence like Lakram was not free from death.

Of course, as it was the nature of gods, or those below them called the Daemons, it was not truly dead and would obviously leave a way out for its comeback. Isn’t it wonderful?

But sad to say, the lineage of people who obtained so much from it, didn’t wish to see such a future. They reviled their true nature and goal and went against the will of their Originator.

"What is going on max, explain to me." Sheva understood that the shock might have been heavy, what Max experienced, and no one in his place would be able to survive it. He was at the center of a Void level threat. Everyone who was unlucky enough to be marked with the Taboo lost their sight, and among some, they even lost their mind.

So it was a miracle that Max survived, at least some of him.

"Explain?... How... to explain this." Max spoke, before looking deeply at Sheva. "I... My master, the one who taught me and gave me this gift." He said pointing toward his arm. "He keeps screaming at me to find an inheritor... of my blood lineage."

The words of an insane person, that’s what Max’s words sounded to Sheva, but Sheva believed it to some extent.

She was inexperienced with the world of mysticism, but it didn’t make her blind to it. Due to her training as a Guerilla, she was used to accepting absurd knowledge and treating them as facts, just to extend the chances of her survival.

And this time, she did the same, believing Max’s words and even the words he spoke about his mentor.

Although she didn’t know who it was, she did know about people with bloodlines gleaming into new knowledge or skills when the concentration of their blood increases, which has obviously happened with Max.

But she didn’t know when Max kept focusing on looking for a disciple. What is in that bloodline that wishes him to look for an inheritor?

"I understand, he will be here soon, there is no hurry. For now, I will go cook some porridge for you. You look thinner than before." For Max to look thinner compared to before, can already be considered a miracle. His body had lost a lot of weight in the last few days.

An odd occurrence for him, as Max was someone capable of sustaining himself by absorbing the nutrients directly from the ground. But this time, his instincts were long dead. They would take time to cultivate again, just like most of the things in one’s life.

Even the memories I implanted in him won’t be able to help him much with this. So a caretaker was needed and truth is told, Sheva was a bit overqualified for this.

*****

"Uncle, if the work here is done, I will be visiting our mutual friends for a bit." Krotal... no, Crow spoke to the old dwarf who had snuck out of Bothal after the legend woke up.

The very same Dwarf that met with Baldar in his illegal hideout, a dwarf named Vegal Lugren, the original progenitor of the Mechanical Homunculus Project. A man who failed at his job after being exposed and successfully cut off from the project as Leshen, his understudy took reigns over it.

He was an old man with no future, if not for him shaking hands with Jester at an opportune time. And it turned out, both of them needed each other.

A fact that hadn’t changed much, even after the accident in Bothal. They were still helping each other, with Crow acting as a mediator at the moment. An outer member of the Church of Jester.

And he did his job spectacularly. It was weird to see him adapt to life in the countryside so easily. And true to his nature, when he originally got out of the city and found his new place. He had rushed to explore the surrounding area for days on end, learning the legends from the locals and telling them stories he had heard in the capital.

He was a sort of a celebrity there, with his Master becoming famous as the first mechanic in a while.

The Town of Ironhide was far from modern when compared to Bothal and there were no repair shops here to begin with. Forcing many of its denizens to go to the bigger cities if they wanted something fixed.

So one can imagine how much impact and popularity the two got due to this.

However, both of their nature were complete trash.

One was a crazy scientist, the other was a pathological manipulator.

"Don’t forget to drink the nutrient solution, it is good for you." Vegal pointed to Crow, before moving to the back of his shop and handling the business as usual.

And Crow didn’t mind it much, he too knew how good this solution had been for his body, so he dunked it in and picked up some books and a package filled with ration, before driving his cycle out of the city.

He usually chose the time when no one would bother him, as it was a small place, it was easier to get noticed and if they did not see him go out of the town with such a huge package, there would obviously be some questions.

However, the good point about small towns, their night comes early and the streets will be empty by the time it’s evening.

There was nothing like nightlife or late-night dinner.

The time the town folks go to sleep would be the same as the time when the workers in the factories of Bothal will be relieved of their duties.

But even then, there were certain precautions necessary when doing such things, so Crow usually chose a complicated path to stray away from any prying eyes. A path that I had suggested.

"There is a gift for you there. Be ready to accept it." I told him, causing the mouth of Crow to flair upwards in a smile. "What kind of gift? Something fun or something dangerous, like last time."

"Treat it as a gift in return for your sacrifice. Who knows, this gift might even help you grow back your fingers."

"A miracle medicine? One of those limb regenerators? It would have taken three years’ worth of my Father’s income to buy a lower-quality version of such potions."

"Nothing like that. It’s way more precious and as you already know, it will be equally dangerous."

"Now you made me curious, I really wonder what it is."

It would seem odd for a boy his age to talk to himself in the middle of the forest at night. He rode on the path that was hard to ride, the visibility close to nil under the shade of the trees which covered up the night sky and the star shine.

But Crow kept dragging his body forward, even on elevated paths, where riding his cycle was becoming hard, he didn’t stop. His body as an apprentice knight was strong enough to endure it. And Vegal’s protein shake also did help him a bit.

Not long before, he finally came across a clearing where the duo was hiding. A crazy man and a scary woman.

Or so he thought.

"You are here?"

The scene he imagined in his head never came to be, no, it was way more unexpected than he had assumed.

"Just the two of you?" He pointed out., then wondering, why the crazy guy was out of his hiding hole and under the night sky. But then he wondered. Even crazies had the right to fresh air.

"What, did you assume there would be others here?" Sheva asked, with some curiosity. Crow’s words were a bit suspicious. But knowing his background, she didn’t bother asking much and just pointed toward Max.

"Put the bag next to the hideout and come here, Max wishes to speak to you about something."

Did Sheva like Crow?

Yes, she did. Although she had tried her best to not show her true emotions here.

Crow had saved her countless times, or at least, he became a medium of the one that did. But even then on that hill that day, Crow had sacrificed several of his fingers which would cause the officers around him to fall asleep. And no matter how much he cried, cursed, or suffered, he would still maintain his pace and do what was required in his time of need.

A true soldier that she can leave her back to. And this boy was not even an adult. Barely seventeen years old this year.

Even now, he helped them by bringing them rations, medicine and other resources that made the life of Max as well as her in the mountainscape a bit easier.

"What is it that you want though?" Crow asked as he came back after putting the bag.

This time, it was not Remira who was speaking, but Max, the crazy man. "Nothing special, just become the inheritor of my blood. That’s all I want from you."