The Jester of Apocalypse

Neave stood at the center of the dome, admiring it. It hadn’t been a simple undertaking, yet it had gone by much faster than any of them had expected.

Gabrias effectively scrapped the original plan and redesigned it from the ground up, replacing the obsidian tiles with a solid metal dome. It was rather simple, but after all the details were solidified, it made perfect sense why they should do it like this.

The critical issue with the obsidian was that it was brittle and fragile. By nature, it cracked when too much force was exerted on it. Metal usually didn’t crack but bent.

Naturally, the dome walls would eventually get battered, but so what? That wouldn’t hinder its function for a long time, if ever. The half sphere that made their dome was also plated in metal on the bottom, but the floor wasn’t metallic. It was simple dirt. Gravel and rocks were delivered and piled on without much regard.

It was a simple, elegant, and brilliant solution. It didn’t matter how messed up the floor got. It just didn’t. The soil was deep enough to create a protective layer over the metal foundation; if the coating were removed, it wouldn’t be a massive problem either. The soil would be thrown around and gradually shift in position, which was perfectly fine, and it even added some extra complexity to the environment.

Yet, if anyone created an attack large enough to impact the metal beneath, it would also be no problem. The metal was so insanely tough that it would take many direct strikes to do considerable damage.

As for the dome, there was no protective layer, but one wasn’t really needed. The dome could be battered repeatedly without much issue, as the metal was quite thick, and a bit of beating wouldn’t compromise its function.

Simple, elegant, practical, and long-lasting. Exactly how every building should be.

Neave nodded satisfactorily and turned to the others with a massive grin, "I think this is good enough for now. We won’t use this bad boy yet since we still have some work in the spirit realm. Now, gather around me, and let's hop back in."

They walked over, placed their hands on him, and within moments, right after he finished making the dome of spirit around them and filled it to the brim, they were inside the spirit realm.

This time, he instructed them to form an orderly line as he lifted his hand. Shards of potential manifested in the air just above it, and he showed them to the others, "This is the formula for one of my most powerful movement techniques."

It was the one-step, two-step, hop, land, teleport move!

Neave had never bothered to come up with names for his movement techniques, given how many he had and how bad he was with names. And he wasn’t about to start naming them now.

The others marveled at the formula, but soon enough, they frowned. Marven sighed profoundly and looked him in the eye. "I will be honest. I can’t even begin unraveling exactly what this technique is meant to do… but if my hunch is correct, this is the ability you use to teleport, right?"

Nodding, Neave grinned. "What, do you have a problem with it?"

"Yes, I do,” the old man said. “The formula is… Honestly, it's simpler than I thought it would be, but it's too precise. The exact movement and the qi control required is on par with the highest level techniques I’ve ever created or tried to learn."

"Don’t worry about that,” Neave waved a hand. “We have plenty of time. I’m sure you will get it eventually."

To his surprise, the old cultivator shook his head. "The issue isn’t with learning the technique. It’s with what comes next. How many such techniques do you know?" Ꞧ𝘈N𝘰฿Ɛ𐌔

Neave shrugged. "Hundreds, but I have deduced that only around thirty are strictly necessary, and those I use the most."

"That is the problem,” Marven said, pointing a finger. “This technique is too precise. There is virtually no flexibility. You need as many as thirty of such techniques because you can’t get by with just one or two. Am I right?"

That was correct. Neave needed many techniques, mainly because most could only be used in specific circumstances. Depending on how much time he had to execute one, how much space he had, and how far he needed to go in which direction, a different technique needed to be used.

It was one of the main reasons he used the techniques relatively sparingly in fights. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to use them constantly or didn’t have the qi for them. It was that most of the time, the requirements weren’t satisfied.

Knowing them was still a tremendous advantage, and it wasn’t like they lacked the time for it, so he was pretty confused about what Marven was trying to say. "I’m sorry, but what exactly are you aiming at?"

"To properly benefit from such techniques,” his father started his explanation, “we would have to spend an incredible amount of time learning and practicing them. It isn’t that we don’t have the time, but…" he looked around, glancing at Hunter and Gabrias, frowning, and continuing, "No offense, but Harel and Dukean are many times more talented than you two. More than myself, frankly. If we were to learn these techniques for battle, it wouldn’t be quick, even for the best of us. Now, whoever ends up being the slowest, the others will likely have to wait a long time for them to catch up or, well… we would have to leave them behind."

Neave frowned at that, but Marven wasn’t done yet, "Even besides that, it likely isn’t worth the time."

That made Neave raise an eyebrow. He turned to Marven and asked, "I wonder, in your opinion, if I were to, let's say, teach you all thirty of such techniques and have you learn to use them in combat, how long do you think that would take you to master?"

"I do not think I could reliably use it in combat without at least… I don’t know, but I assume tens of thousands of years of practice."

The others all turned at once, spluttering and staring at him incredulously. Even Neave was surprised. "Oh, come the hell on, I don’t think it would take you that long."

Marven shook his head. "That’s optimistic. It’s possible that I could never master them. Neave, I don’t think you really comprehend just how incredible it is that you can juggle thirty of these techniques in combat with such ease. You were in rather peculiar circumstances when you first learned these techniques, so I’m sure not even you know how long it took you to do it. Try to remember your early days of practice. If I’m right, it… It probably took you forever to master them."

"Well… yeah."

"The thing is, right, I’m not saying this isn’t worth learning or mastering, but it isn’t worth doing now. This is the sort of undertaking someone at the peak of their power would do once all other options had been exhausted. I don’t know about you, but I can think of many ways to use that time more efficiently."

There wasn’t much to say to that. He had honestly been quite excited to teach them these techniques, as he considered them to be among the most incredible tools he had. They would also immediately translate into more power once they were back outside.

However, his father was right. Besides, it isn’t like they couldn’t learn them later. And there was always the other option. The symbols in the air shifted and morphed, and the shards of potential spelled out a different formula. This was something much simpler yet still quite powerful.

A dash.

After inspecting the symbols, Marven nodded and confirmed Neave’s suspicions, "That is a wonderful technique. Learning a set of those shouldn’t be a problem for any of us."

"Well then…” Neave said, slightly disappointed. “How about we get to it?"

***

Neave stood before Marven, holding a sledgehammer that perfectly resembled the one he used outside. The old man had a similar replica of his Glass Shard.

Harel faced Dukean, both holding their weapons, and Hunter and Gabrias faced each other barehanded.

Now, it was time for the next step he had prepared. One-on-one combat.

He initially planned to have everyone fight with a replica of their outside weapon, but there was no way to fully recreate Gabrias' bow. It was not a significant loss, though, as the main focus was training to incorporate the movement techniques in battle.

Behind them was a gigantic pile of reserve weapons for when someone broke or ruined the ones they had.

They all readied themselves, and on his mark, the fights began.

Hunter and Gabrias charged at one another, fists flying and feet striking. Gabrias ducked to dodge a strike, and Hunter used a movement technique to dash back, avoiding the counterattack.

Both men were defensive, and getting used to an opponent whose offense wasn’t perfect would take a while.

The battle between Harel and Dukean was ridiculous, as their chained weapons flew and fluttered through the air, constantly clashing and repelling. They both had a rather offensive style, although Harel’s was far more aggressive.

Marven used one technique after another, finding himself incapable of grazing his son. While Neave struggled to do enough damage if bare-handed, having a weapon made for an entirely different story.

A titanic overhead true strike descended, shattering the glass shard in Marven’s hands and caving his skull in, sending a shockwave that blew the others apart and scattered the pile of weapons.

Perhaps they should give each other some more personal space.

***

Hunter dashed straight at Gabrias, and the larger man moved out of the way, using a movement technique to rapidly twist his torso out of the way. Rather than flying by, Hunter spun in the air and redirected his momentum into a massive kick that Gabrias had no recourse against besides a block.

The aftermath skewed the odds in Hunter’s favor, and soon, Gabrias found himself facing a punch, a kick to the side, and an axe kick to his head. Yet, he didn’t fall as quickly as he once would have. The massive man grabbed Hunter’s foot and swung the boy’s body at the floor.

The younger cultivator canceled the force of the swing with a footing technique, one masterfully leveraged against the taller man’s torso, and a final kick to the giant man’s face ended the fight.

A storm of steel flew around Harel and Dukean. He was nearly constantly at an advantage due to the superior speed of his weapon, but most of the hits he landed paled compared to even the slightest graze of her strikes.

As chains whipped through the air, the combatants waited for the other to slip up. Given how heavy the spiked ball was, Harel’s chain did much of the defensive work, and Dukean kept trying to slither past it.

The tiniest of slip-ups allowed Harel to repel his sword. He immediately used a movement technique to get out of the way, but it was hopeless. She flew forward, impaling her arm on the blade and gripping the chain as the ball flew at Dukean’s face.

He managed to dodge thrice, but the fourth strike caught him off guard, and his head was pulverized.

Harel pumped her fist. Toward the beginning of their fight, the young master won most of the time. However, as they became more comfortable with their weapon and movement techniques, the tides were starting to turn.

As his head recovered, a determined grin spread on his face.

Neither wanted to be outdone by the other.

Marven ate another sledgehammer strike to the shoulder, and yet another came seemingly out of nowhere, landing on the side of his head.

Facing his unarmed son had been terrifying, but fighting him with a weapon felt like trying to fist-fight a natural disaster.

Marven felt that a weapon shouldn’t have made that great of a difference, especially with the vast gulf in power between them, but Neave’s use of his skills utterly defied common sense.

The word Marven wanted to use here was abuse. Neave abused his movement techniques. There was no such thing as abusing a skill in combat. That was just called proficiency, or in this case, mastery.

Yet, that word almost perfectly suited the tiny calamity’s style.

It was effectively cheating. There was a movement technique that allowed one to turn their torso rapidly. The way Neave used this technique in combat was to use it, offload the momentum to his hammer, then cancel it and use it again.

It wasn’t how the technique was meant to be used, and it would usually be a ridiculous waste of qi. But Neave could do this as many as fifty times in a row! During the exact same swing!

This accelerated the hammer to mach-whatever-the-fuck, and the only real way to defend against it was to immediately react the exact moment he raised the hammer. But whenever he raised his weapon, Neave could take it in practically infinite directions.

The problem was that there seemed to be no real way to respond to this. Defend from one side, and the hammer miraculously appeared on the exact opposite side of his body. The way Neave used movement techniques felt like facing an illusionist, and at times, it made Marven doubt his sanity.

The sledgehammer had a few critical weaknesses, and, notably, Neave utterly nullified every single one of them, leaving only the ridiculous force it could produce, frequently combined with a true strike that shouldn’t be capable of doing that much damage.

After he recovered, he got up and faced Neave again.

Perhaps he should get around to mastering a few of his son’s tricks for himself. If that was even a possibility.