The God of Jesters
Chapter 41 - 2.10.2 Investigation

Chapter 41: 2.10.2 Investigation

Unlike Remira or Maxim, Maisel was busy doing his own things. Not a day went by when he didn’t feel some eyes on him. Eyes that came in all shapes and forms, like that of a child that got lost or the dogs that fought on the streets.

Which just filled him with guilt on the inside. Because he knew that these eyes were nothing more than dead constructs supported by a familiar group of people.

A group that he had fought for a long time and was used to their methods. A group older than the principality of Wortham itself.

"Now speak, what the Blue lotus is planning."

Lotus is a common flower that was found very often in ponds and lakes, with its roots being a very beloved delicacy in the whole wide world. A beautiful flower in itself, making it hard to fathom why the name of such a brutal organization treated the life of individuals lower as nothing would choose such a name.

But one should also not forget that the lotus flower also symbolized reincarnation. The reincarnation of mind, body, and soul. To Blue lotus, everything and everyone is eternal, they just change forms as they jump from body to body.

Which to them means that no one ever truly is dead. It’s what makes them guilt-free while doing acts that would be considered most heinous to mankind, in their empty pursuit to find the legendary Lotus by the same name.

"I... I don’t know." Barely able to breathe, she spoke what she could while smoke escaped her mouth.

She was sealed in all sense, inside her heart there was a snake made out of a fire that coiled tightly around it, locking her spirit so that she can’t use magic or any other tricks anymore.

"A puppeteer of your caliber really is a bad liar, huh?... With your skills, I believe there is no way you will remain ignorant about what your people are planning." Maisel was very much aware of how Blue Lotus functioned and what made them tick.

"So, speak," Maisel said as his burning hands crushed the hands of the woman under his grip, sizzling her flesh so that no more blood leaks out.

"Nooaa...." Saliva and tears dropped from her eyes as she pleaded in pain. Her voice is barely able to make out any sentences. Like a child that had never experienced any pain before.

The kind of cries that would almost make the hearts of a man melt. But Maisel was not a weak man and he remembers the faces of all the dead puppets that were thrown his way. There were people of all ages, including children. He knows the pain and misery they would have suffered from.

All of which were caused by this single individual. It was why he felt guilty.

These were the people he was meant to protect. He bled so that these people can sleep in peace. He sacrifices his relations with his family so that these people know that Maisel is not a weak man that would be swayed by emotions.

And now, these same people were being killed due to him. Just because a sadistic Witch wished to stalk him, she killed all these people.

They became collateral.

And thinking of all those faces and the pain those people must have felt, the families that were broken, unaware of what happened to their loved one, Maisel in some emotional anger tightened his grip on that broken hand and then ripped it straight off.

There was no threat or warning. This was a purely emotional response to this monster in human skin. "Please...."

A monster that cried like a human and acted like a baby when in pain. But Maisel was not the kind to pity monsters like these. They don’t deserve mercy and neither do they deserve to die so early.

Cauterizing the wound with his burning hand to stop the blood flow, He forced her mouth open and poured some potion into her body.

"This is Aldernalethon, keeps you awake and in a heightened state of self. It was a combat drug designed to keep the warriors wide awake." Maisel explained the effects of the potions to the woman whose mind was too blank to hear anything.

The pain was just too much for her.

So while she remained sprawled on the floor, reeling in from pain, Maisel went to the corner of the room and brought over a bag. "Though that’s what it was intended for, but soon it was scrapped."

He opened the bag and started taking out multiple tools, one by one. Each is worse than the other. And the woman knew what each of them was used for.

So the moment she saw it, her body started to tremble. "Do you know why?" Maisel asked, but he just laughed. "Of course, you won’t say it, you need to maintain an act." It didn’t matter if it was all an act or not. To Maisel, he will think she is lying.

Because in no way, someone of her caliber would fear pain so much.

"The answer is actually pretty simple. It was in the descriptions."

"As among the heightened senses, the stimulus of pain is the one that gets multiplied by the most. Rendering it completely ineffective for combat use." Lifting her remaining good hand, she felt her clean fingers and white skin. He even appreciated the workmanship on the nails. Even wondering if he can get a number for her beautician for his wife and daughter.

Then he laughed it off. "That’s one beautiful hand you got." He said, before ripping off the first nail with a clipper.

*****

It was morning by the time he was done with the woman. And leaving a burning mutilated corpse behind, he got out of the room and took a fresh breath of air.

Currently, Maisel’s body was covered with blood from head to toe, his mood melancholic and his eyes hollow.

It was dawn and it was time to abandon the face of a worried father and take over the persona of Marshall Maisel.

"Your face is dirty." A voice came from his side, a voice that belonged to his closest friend as well as the only assistant that Maisel had.

"Yes, it is," Maisel said, looking back at the burning body. "Though I can’t say it was worth it."

"Another night with no results?" His friend asked, which showed he was well aware of Maisel’s night outings or what he had achieved till this point.

Which amounted to nothing.

"I won’t say that, but nothing concrete." Looking at his friend, he took a tired sigh. "But at least her words prove that Blue Lotus is here and planning something."

Maisel was truly disappointed with the result of the light night. As none of his questions were answered and even though the woman went through hell, her mouth never opened to speak of anything.

Which meant that she was under a vow. Which was common for someone in cults like this. There was a reason why they were so hard to track even if you capture a high-level figure in the cult.

"They followed you here as well?" his friend sighed, a bit frustrated at how rabid this cult was. But to his words, Maisel just shook his head.

"No, I can say for sure that it was not them who followed me."

"There is even a chance, they called me here."As for what they called him here to this city for. There is no need to brainstorm anything.

They were after his magic, specifically the fire in his heart. A kind of flame that was called the Samadhi Flame, the ultimate fire that purifies the dead, and in mythologies had some relationship with reincarnation as well.

It was why he was so prone to attacks by the blue lotus. And why he had to act so distant to his own blood. Because if he didn’t, things like what happened to his son would repeat themselves.

"Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake by loving someone." Maisel sighed, recalling the crying face of his wife and the cursing of his own daughter.

Both of them hated him for what happened to Farhad, to them, he died due to him. And as it turns out, they might be right.

Which placed him under more guilt.

Maybe, he shouldn’t have married and built up a family. It was not a life for a warrior anyways.

"Hah! Falling into depression at this age?... And old friend, you can’t control who you fall into love with. So stop thinking implausible things. And just focus on your goal."

"Let’s just catch the bastards responsible for the death of little Farhad." The man said, feeling a bit bad for Maisel.

"Yes, I will just focus on that." With those words, the hollow eyes disappeared and the hunched back rose up once again. It was as if the earlier look was a mere illusion, an act and this is who Maisel originally was.

"But I wonder what you were here for? This is unlike you to visit me during my night activities." And showing that he had recovered, Maisel asked. Confused about why his friend would come to visit him so far from the town.

"Oh, I forgot to mention." The man handed Maisel a letter. "This is for you."

A letter from Maxim.