The Jester stood on the balcony of his manor, leaning against the wrought-iron railing through which a gentle breeze drifted. He closed his eyes, savoring the pleasant tranquility that reigned around him. Even within his chaotic, contradictory existence, there was room for silence. For a simple moment… without chaos, without struggle.
That moment did not last long. The fabric of magic stirred tangibly in the space behind him — a familiar ripple in the air, the faint crackle of energy, and the echo of foreign mana. The Jester opened his eyes and slowly turned. On the threshold of the balcony stood Alex.
He wore his Academy uniform, as composed and self-assured as ever. Their eyes met, and the corners of the Jester's lips lifted into a familiar smile.
"Welcome to my humble abode, Alex. It seems this is our first meeting in peaceful circumstances, isn't it?" he said, stepping from the balcony into his study and gesturing for his guest to follow.
"The first, but I hope not the last," Alex replied, taking a few steps forward and entering as well.
"Well then, as I promised, first and foremost I will give you the chance to see those we rescued. A few of them very much wanted to meet you."
Alex nodded, and without another word followed the Jester, who was already standing by a pair of massive wooden doors with bronze inlays.
They left the study, located on the second floor. The corridor was long, with a high ceiling, but not excessively grand. The walls were painted a restrained shade of graphite, adorned here and there with simple paintings in silver frames. The floor was laid with smooth dark wood that creaked pleasantly underfoot.
Tall windows lined the sides of the corridor, letting in soft daylight that cast pale beams across the walls. In the corners stood small pots with well-tended plants. An almost perfect cleanliness reigned here — no dust, no clutter.
They passed several doors — Alex guessed these might be guest bedrooms, a library, or meeting rooms. Then came the staircase. Wide, with an elegant metal railing, a graceful curve, and lamps built into the wall at every turn.
The first floor felt warmer. The walls here were cream-colored, accented with wooden elements. In the center of a spacious lounge stood several soft sofas, a round table with cups, and cozy lighting that was gentle on the eyes. It was the kind of place where one truly wanted to simply… sit.
They crossed the room and approached a set of heavy doors at the far end. The Jester pushed one open with ease, revealing a narrow stone passage leading down into the basement.
"Careful," the Jester remarked, descending first.
The stairs were stone, slightly damp, lit only by scattered magical crystals set into the walls. Each step echoed until they reached the bottom.
Ahead stretched a spacious corridor, and after a few paces the first signs of human presence appeared.
"Almost there," the Jester murmured without turning.
After walking several dozen meters more, where the faint scent of old stone gradually gave way to something softer, the Jester finally stopped before a pair of massive wooden doors. With a light motion, he pushed them open — and before Alex spread a vast hall that defied all expectations of a basement.
It was an enormous, well-lit cellar. Light streamed from dozens of crystals set into the ceiling and walls, bathing the room in a warm, gentle glow. A pleasant, faintly sweet aroma lingered in the air — something like dried flowers and fresh fabric. The floor was covered with thick rugs, and upon them lay dozens of neatly arranged mattresses, blankets, and pillows.
Everything looked as cozy as it possibly could, given the underground setting.
The people — former slaves and orphans — were dressed in simple but clean clothes. Women in light dresses or tunics, men in shirts and trousers, children in comfortable everyday attire. Their appearance was a stark contrast to what Alex had witnessed in the duke's cavern. Gone were the deadened gazes, the emptiness in their eyes that had once hung in the air like an invisible noose. Most were slowly beginning to return to life.
Against the walls stood a large wooden cabinet, generously filled with books. A few adults and teenagers sat on mattresses nearby, reading attentively. The eyes of one man, holding a thick tome bearing the crest of some noble house, gleamed with curiosity.
In the center of the room children played — wooden toys, balls, handmade dolls — all looked new. Some were building towers from wooden blocks, some were running about, while others simply sat in groups, whispering and chatting.
Several adults were engaged in unhurried conversations while sitting on blankets; others lay with eyes closed, as if, for the first time in ages, they could allow themselves to relax.
In one corner stood two wooden tables. On one — several pitchers of clean water, with clay cups neatly arranged beside them. On the other — plates of simple yet filling food: bread, dried fruits, boiled vegetables, soups in a large bowl from which anyone could serve themselves.
The atmosphere of the room was calm. Warm. Human. Despite being underground, there was no sense of claustrophobia — it felt bright, safe, and homely.
The Jester stopped in the doorway, giving Alex time to take it all in. The young man froze for a moment, surveying this improvised community of rescued souls. And though full healing was still far off, the first step had been made — these people were beginning to live again.
The Jester, catching the expression on Alex's face — a mix of focused seriousness, relief, and perhaps faint surprise — smiled and asked leisurely:
"Well, what do you think?"
Alex quickly gathered himself, exhaled through his nose, and nodded.
"This… is far better than I imagined. Honestly. Though it's a pity they had to live in a dungeon first, and now in a basement."
"I would gladly house them in the manor itself," the Jester replied with a chuckle, "but I fear there aren't enough rooms or beds for everyone. And this basement… at least for the time being, it's the best I can offer."
A brief silence fell between them. From below came the muffled laughter of children.
"Tell me," Alex spoke, "did anyone… decide to stay in Lorenzo's dungeon?"
"Surprisingly, no," the Jester answered, raising his brows slightly. "I expected at least a dozen to stay behind, not believe, be afraid. But all of them left. Calmly. No hysteria. No hesitation."
Alex allowed himself a small smile.
"Then I'm glad they chose what's best for themselves."
"As am I," the Jester agreed, before adding, "By the way, if you're curious — we managed to rescue seventy-four orphans. All from different 'Rays of Hope.'"
"Seventy-four…" Alex repeated. "And you want to know if I'll take them today, right?"
The Jester nodded.
"Not yet. I still haven't met the person to whom I plan to transfer ownership of all the orphanages. But I think within the next two or three days I'll be able to arrange everything."
"I'm glad to hear it," said the Jester, folding his arms. "In any case, they're under supervision and protection, so don't worry. I can keep them with me for another two or three days."
"Thank you," Alex said briefly.
"Oh, come now," the Jester waved a hand. "It's nothing."
He walked forward unhurriedly, approaching the people. At first glance it seemed as though his presence had gone unnoticed, but within a moment everything changed.
A little boy, about five years old, who had been sitting at the edge of a blanket playing with a wooden snake, suddenly froze. His eyes widened, and he quickly tugged at his mother's dress, pointing toward the Jester and Alex.
"Mom, Mom…" he whispered.
The woman bent toward him.
"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked gently, then followed the direction of her son's finger. Her face changed at once: her eyes widened, her lips parted slightly, and she breathed out in astonishment.
"My Lord…"
She bowed slightly in a half-curtsy. Her voice drew the attention of others. One by one, gazes began to settle on the two men standing at the passage.
The Jester approached the woman and gently laid his hand on her shoulder, speaking warmly.
"How many times must I repeat it… Call me by my name."
"Forgive me," she said, flustered. "Jester… I… I'm simply so happy to see you."
"The feeling is mutual," the Jester replied sincerely, then added: "How are you feeling?"
More calmly now, the woman answered:
"Better with each day. As are we all. And it's thanks to you."
"Not only me," he said with a faint smile, turning slightly toward Alex. "This young man shares the credit as well."
With a gesture, he invited Alex closer.
Alex stepped up to the Jester and cast a brief glance at the woman and the boy. Both wore neat, simple, but clean clothes. The woman was young, with gentle features and dark hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked calm, and tiredly happy. The boy — fair-haired, with large brown eyes — examined Alex curiously, not hiding behind his mother as other children did. Neither bore the signs of beatings or starvation Alex had expected; they looked alive.
The Jester turned to face the hall and spoke louder, so that all could hear.
"Good day to you, friends. I'm glad to see you in good spirits and with genuine smiles. Truly, that is what I most wished to see today."
The room grew quiet. Adults and children alike fixed their attention on him.
"And today I've brought with me someone who contributed no less to your salvation than I did. I want to introduce you to Alex."
He stepped aside, revealing the young man fully.
"This vampire fought desperately against Lorenzo's mercenaries, sparing himself no risk, only so that you might have a second chance. He deserves the same gratitude you have shown me and my people."
It was as if some silent signal had been given. All those sitting or lying down rose almost at once. Then, as though on command, they bowed their heads. A strong, unified "Thank you!" swept through the hall.
Alex waved his hands hurriedly before him.
"No, no, please… raise your heads."
His voice was slightly scattered, but genuine.
"I didn't fight Lorenzo so that you would bow before someone else again. You no longer have to do that."
Those words seemed to strike home. The looks in their eyes shifted. People began to straighten, to square their shoulders. A hush hung in the air.
With all eyes upon him, Alex spoke again.
"Like the Jester, I'm glad to see you all in good condition. I'm glad that each of you chose to take the chance we offered you.
"What you went through… was horrible. And I won't pretend I understand you. Even if the Jester and I do everything we can, we can't take your memories away. But I am here… to help you bury them. Beneath new ones. Better ones. To help you feel again what it is to live, not merely survive. To help you know once more that there is a 'tomorrow' for you."
His voice trembled slightly, though his eyes remained firm.
The room erupted in applause. Genuine, loud. Someone shouted "Thank you!" again and again. Tears welled in some eyes. Others simply smiled.
A warm, sincere smile spread across Alex's own lips. He stood watching the wave of emotion, and a thought flickered through his mind:
"It seems I said the right thing. We tore them from the jaws of slow death. And now… if my words are to mean anything, if their tears are not to be in vain — I must keep moving forward. With even greater resolve. To keep the promise I gave Lumenia. And the promise I just gave these people."
In his mind came the familiar voice of the Siren. Gentle, soft, warm:
"You are doing wonderfully, my Lord. I see how you are changing. And I am proud of you."
"Thank you."
When the applause finally began to fade, Alex took a step forward and spoke again.
"There is one more thing I wish to tell you. All the children who were taken by force from the 'Ray of Hope' will very soon be able to return. I have already found a new owner for the orphanages — someone who will not only care for the institutions themselves, but ensure proper attention and kindness for each of you. I will personally assist with the resettlement, so the process is as quick and painless as possible."
The hall burst into joyful murmurs. Children turned to each other with smiles; some grabbed their friends' hands in excitement, their eyes alight with the fire of hope. Even among the adults, a wave of emotional relief swept through.
While Alex was still watching these reactions, the Jester's calm voice sounded beside him.
"Is that all you wanted to see? And say?"
Alex turned his gaze to him and gave a short nod.
"Yes."
The Jester also nodded slightly, then addressed everyone once more.
"It's time for Alex and me to go. But…" — he paused briefly and smiled — "I very much hope my friend won't refuse to stay a little longer. For example, for dinner. Together with you."
His eyes went to Alex, who sighed wearily and answered:
"All right, I'll stay."
"Excellent!" The Jester clapped his hands cheerfully. "Well then, we'll see each other again a little later."
The Jester made a light bow — brief, yet filled with respect. Alex, silently and a little uncertainly, repeated the gesture. A magic circle glowed beneath their feet, and in an instant both vanished, leaving behind only a fading trail of light and the conversations that quickly resumed in the basement.
The Jester's office greeted them with warm light. The Jester gestured for Alex to sit. The boy silently took a seat in the soft leather chair across from the massive desk, his eyes carefully tracking every movement of the host. The Jester calmly walked to a cabinet, opened it, and retrieved a dark glass bottle and two large goblets. Setting them on the desk, he opened the bottle and, with an almost celebratory slowness, poured the thick golden ale into the glasses.
"I have a toast," the Jester said with a smile, raising his goblet. "To our victory over Lorenzo."
Alex glanced sideways at the drink, then at the Jester. A faint trace of distrust could be read in his gaze. The Jester didn't remain silent.
"If I wanted to poison you, trust me, I'd do it much more elegantly. And I certainly wouldn't ruin such ale. That would be sacrilege."
Alex gave in, sighed lightly, and raised his goblet.
"There's a note of truth in your words. To victory."
They almost simultaneously took several sips. The drink was indeed good—rich, slightly sweet, with a distinct honey flavor and a smooth aftertaste.
"And? What do you think?"
Alex gave a short nod.
"I like it. Especially that honey note."
"It's my favorite," the Jester said with satisfaction, setting his goblet on the desk. "I'd drink it by the liter, if only it didn't cost such insane money."
A short pause followed. Both sat in silence, staring into the flames flickering in the fireplace. The silence wasn't tense, but rather… expectant. At last, the Jester chuckled quietly, almost to himself.
"You know, I can't even imagine how absurd this whole situation must look in your eyes."
"What do you mean?" Alex asked calmly, though his expression grew guarded.
"Well, look—you're sitting in my office, drinking ale with me. With me, someone who once dealt with the Montameris. Who has ties with Elian—the same Elian who turned your friend into a monster. Who gave orders to Heinrich and that creature, because of whom your loved ones were put in danger in the dungeon. Who cooperated with Lorenzo himself. I completely understand that after all this, I appear to you as the main villain. But on the other hand, I'm the one who helped Reiner, and the one who gave you another potion, right? We killed Lorenzo's mercenaries together. And, by the way, I didn't order that monster to maim your loved ones—only to wound them. To frighten them. So you'd have more motivation to show your full strength. And admit it—it worked."
Alex gave a slight nod.
"Yes. All that's true. But there's one detail you conveniently ignore. Every one of those situations was created by you."
The Jester laughed in response. Loudly, even sincerely, as if he had just heard a good joke. Alex didn't look away, his face remaining serious.
"That's not entirely correct," the Jester said with a smile. "Think broader. Yes, I created those situations. But why did I have to? Because of you. You eliminated the Montameris, and in doing so you created a hole in the structure. I had to fill it with something—and that 'something' became Lorenzo. At the same time, you began to pique my interest. At first I tested you through Elian and Reiner. Then through the monster in the dungeon. So the true cause of all this isn't me—it's you, Alex. You are the catalyst."
Alex averted his gaze slightly, silently processing the words. "Somewhere deep inside, this thought had troubled me more than once. And now the Jester confirmed it." But aloud he said only:
"If that's the case, if I'm the one who forced you to act like this… why haven't you eliminated me yet? It would be easier than constantly bothering yourself."
The Jester answered without hesitation.
"I already gave you the answer," his voice was a little softer than before. "And it hasn't changed."
"Because of interest?" Alex asked. "Are you saying all this is just because I intrigue you?"
A smile appeared on the Jester's lips. But not a mocking one. This time—it was genuine, almost weary.
"Think about it," he said. "You're a seventeen-year-old vampire who has mastered dark magic. That alone makes you unique. I've lived a very long time, Alex. And I've never seen anything like you. You're not just interesting. You're an anomaly. You defeated a professor of the Academy. You survived a battle with a monster meant to be stronger than most S-rank bosses. And you did it at seventeen. Next to that, even wiping out the Montameris looks like child's play."
Alex, with a trace of irritation in his voice, interrupted.
"It can't all come down to mere interest. Judging by how you behave… you want me to trust you. Completely. Without doubts. If I'm wrong—correct me. But if I'm right, tell me… why?"
A tense silence fell. The Jester was no longer smiling. He exhaled slowly through his nose, staring directly into Alex's eyes.
The Jester took another sip of ale, set the goblet on the desk, and finally broke the silence.
"You want to know my motivation," he began softly. "Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."
He raised his gaze and, without looking away, continued calmly.
"All I want is to put a gazebo in the backyard of my estate. Open a bottle of good ale, sit in the shade while a cool breeze is blowing… and share a drink with my wife. That's my motivation. No world-changing schemes, no ambitions, no grandiose goals."
He smiled faintly, tilted his head, and added:
"So what do you say, Alex? Did that answer satisfy you? Or are you disappointed that behind this mask lies only such a simple desire?"
Alex remained silent. His gaze studied every muscle on the Jester's face, every nerve, every flicker of eyelid. He tried to catch the slightest sign of deceit, pretense, or game. But… nothing. Only calm. Quiet, deep, and strangely honest.
"If only I had Astarion's ability to hear another's heartbeat right now…"
"I'm not disappointed," Alex finally replied, his voice free of irritation now. "I'm… impressed."
The Jester narrowed his eyes slightly, giving Alex a look of mild surprise.
"And what about your motivation, Alex?" he asked. "What makes you pick up your weapon again and again?"
"Protecting my family," Alex answered without hesitation. "Protecting my loved ones. And those who believed in me."
The Jester nodded slowly, with a thoughtful smile.
"Then our goals aren't so different after all," he said. "We're just walking different roads to reach them. And, paradoxically, it's exactly because of that we keep getting in each other's way. I do things my way—you break them. You fight your way—and I, indirectly at least, put obstacles in your path. But what if"—his voice grew calmer, almost trusting—"we walked one road together?"
Alex raised a surprised brow.
"What?"
"I wasn't planning to talk about this today", the Jester thought. "But right now is the perfect moment."
"I have a proposal, Alex," he said aloud, looking straight into his eyes. "Let's join forces. You—with your strength, convictions, and goal. Me—with my network, resources, and… knowledge of the darker side of the world. We don't have to agree on everything. But together, we could reach our goals much faster."
The room fell into silence, heavy as before a storm. Alex only stared at him in silence, while the Jester simply waited.
Syrena spoke first. Her voice, sounding slightly troubled, echoed in the Jester's mind:
"My Lord, are you certain that joining forces with him is a good idea?"
The Jester, focusing a little, replied in thought:
"Yes. I believe that working with him will finally help me reach my goal."
"How exactly can he help you?" she asked.
"I can become stronger," Alex answered to Syrena. "And more importantly—more enduring. The fight with the monster showed me that I have more than enough strength, but I catastrophically lack stamina. To fix that, I need to fight someone stronger than me, someone who definitely won't hold back. And the best candidate for that is the Jester."
"I hope you're not mistaken," Syrena said softly.
"So do I," the Jester replied in thought. "But I'll do everything to make this partnership work. And I hope Alex will do the same, so that each of us can finally live in peace."
"And what if he betrays you?" Syrena asked with concern.
Alex hesitated for a moment.
"That cannot be ruled out. Although the Jester is stronger now, I'm not standing still. Every day I get closer to his level of power. And when I have that sword… I'll be even stronger than him."
The Jester took a sip of ale and added in thought:
"Of course, I want to believe everything will work out. But if not…"
And then, at the same time, in two very different minds, the same answer rang out:
"I'll just get rid of him."
Alex smiled faintly and extended his hand.
"I accept your offer. I look forward to fruitful cooperation."
"Glad to work with you," the Jester replied just as easily, shaking the boy's hand.
When their hands parted, Alex raised his goblet.
"And now—to the beginning of this very cooperation."
"To the beginning," the Jester echoed the toast, and they both took several sips.
After finishing, the Jester refilled their goblets, took another sip, and, settling comfortably into his chair, asked:
"So, what do you plan to do now that the Lorenzo affair is over?"
"First, as I said, I'll resolve the matter with the orphans. Then I'll return to training. And that's where I'll need your help," Alex replied.
"I'm listening carefully," the Jester said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"My problem is stamina. I won the fight with your monster, but after I brought everyone home, I fainted. I was out for two days. That can't happen again. I need a strong opponent to train with. Stronger than me."
"I understand," the Jester nodded. "Personally training you will be difficult because of a lack of free time. But I promise to think of something by our next meeting, once you've dealt with the orphans."
"Thank you. By the way…" Alex tilted his head slightly. "Is there anything I can help you with? Because so far, it's been you helping me all along."
"There actually is. But not now. When the time comes, I'll ask," the Jester smiled. Seeing suspicion flash in Alex's eyes, he added: "Don't worry. Nothing that would go against your principles."
"I hope so," Alex answered curtly.
"By the way," the Jester recalled. "Did you already use that potion I gave you back in the clearing?"
"No."
"That's good. Because I never properly explained what it does. First of all, it's a very powerful regeneration potion. It can even restore lost limbs. Second, it can return a normal appearance, like in Reiner's case. Though, I doubt you'll ever need that second effect."
"And that's all? Can it lift a curse?" Alex asked, disappointed.
"No. But…" The Jester narrowed his eyes. "Do you need a potion against curses?"
"Not for me. For a close friend of mine."
"I know exactly who you mean," the Jester smiled, opening his inventory. He took out a vial with a black liquid and placed it before Alex. "This might help. It can lift any curse. It was created by my friend—probably the best alchemist on the continent."
Alex glanced sideways at the vial.
"Was it tested?"
"Yes, of course. But only on weak and medium curses. Against a strong one, I don't know if it will work. Maybe yes, maybe no. But Astarion has nothing left to lose anyway. It might be worth trying."
"How did you…" Alex began, then stopped, answering his own question. "Right. Why am I even surprised."
He picked up the potion and stored it in his inventory.
"Thank you."
"No need," the Jester shrugged. "We're partners now. And partners should help each other."
The man took another sip of ale and glanced over his shoulder at the balcony.
"There's still some time before dinner," he said, gazing at the sky, where the sun was only beginning to sink toward the horizon.
He drank again, set his goblet on the table, and stood up resolutely. Alex, silently watching him, also rose to his feet.
A magical circle flared beneath both their feet—and in the next moment the office dissolved into light. When their sight returned, they were standing in the middle of a familiar clearing. The same one where Alex had once fought Elian. The same one where he first met the Jester. But now it was bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun, not the stillness of a starry night.
"Why are we here?" Alex asked, looking around.
"We've got twenty, maybe thirty minutes. A perfect chance for a little duel. Let's measure each other's strength." The Jester's voice held no bravado, no arrogance—only curiosity. A magical circle glowed in his hand, forming into a long, elegant sword. "So show me everything you've got."
"I've been waiting for this chance," Alex smiled. In his hand, a clot of blood solidified into a dark sword.
Both took their stances, and in the next instant, a sudden strike exploded between them. Their swords clashed with a thunderous crash, and their faces froze for a heartbeat opposite one another—each wearing a smile of eager joy. Then the real battle began.
Alex struck first, his blood blade cutting through the air in a series of rapid slashes. The Jester dodged and parried effortlessly, gracefully, as if dancing to the rhythm of an unseen orchestra. His sword of light gleamed each time it clashed with Alex's crimson blade.
Then Alex leapt back, flung out his hand—and from it snapped a whip of darkness, tearing into the ground. The Jester crossed his arms, summoning a barrier of light before him, which shattered the darkness and absorbed the blow.
"Good," the Jester smiled. "But I want to see more."
He lunged forward, leaving a trail of light behind him. His attacks were so fast, it seemed as if he disappeared and reappeared beside Alex again and again.
Alex, barely keeping up, blocked and countered, but with each passing second the pressure grew.
Suddenly, the Jester raised his sword to the sky, and it exploded into hundreds of light needles that rained down on the clearing. Alex created a dome of darkness above him—some of the beams deflected, others sliced into the ground around him. The boy swept his hand—and a massive wave of darkness erased all the light needles around him, like a tsunami.
"Whoa!" was all the Jester managed to say, shielding himself from the wave with a barrier of light.
But when the dust settled, the Jester was already holding a double-edged blade of light in his hands. His eyes burned with excitement.
The air trembled as Alex rose into the sky on a magical platform of darkness, which seemed to grow from nothing itself. It pulsed beneath his feet, formed from concentrated magic, its edges swirling with dark spirals. Alex stretched his hand forward—and it began.
From his palm burst five massive projectiles, each as dark as a starless night. With a hum, they tore toward the Jester, who now hovered slightly lower, suspended in the air by radiant wings of light beating from his back.
The Jester gracefully dodged the first, the second, the third. One flew so close it scorched his sleeve. Two others, pursuing him, began to curve, tracking his movements—Alex had imbued them with homing.
"Not bad," the Jester called out in midair, spinning and extending his hands. In his palms, two circles of light ignited, releasing beams with a thunderous crack—they struck the dark projectiles, tearing them apart in midair with explosions that looked like black flowers.
Alex barely managed to grip his sword with both hands when the Jester appeared before him. Their blades clashed with such force that the air around them cracked. The Jester spun swiftly in the air and struck horizontally from the left—Alex blocked, trying to counter with a thrust from below, but the Jester easily flipped over him, hovering above the platform.
"Better," he remarked, and in the next instant his sword carved a downward arc.
Alex blocked the strike, but the impact made him slip on the platform.
"And now let's see how you fare without support," the Jester said with a grin, suddenly leaping back, raising his sword overhead with both hands. From the blade burst a projectile of light that crashed against the platform with a roar.
Alex instantly conjured a barrier of darkness before it, which held for a moment, but the Jester's light pierced through. The platform cracked, shuddered—and shattered.
Alex plummeted. He twisted midair, cushioning his fall with magic, and landed softly on his knees. Dust rose around him. A shadow flashed overhead again—the Jester was already diving for another attack.
At once, from the ground, a black spike erupted like a spear—then another, and another. They shot upward, trying to impale the Jester, but he merely shifted his path slightly, slipping between them like a shadow in light.
"Not bad!" he exclaimed, dodging.
Alex thrust his hand forward, releasing a wave of dark magic—it rolled across the ground, tearing it up like a tide. The Jester descended, meeting the wave with a blast of light—the two forces collided in the center, triggering an explosion that scorched the grass and lifted clouds of dust.
Alex lunged through the haze and struck with his sword—the Jester blocked, and once again they traded blows. One, two, three—each strike left cracks in the earth. Then Alex suddenly leapt back and fired two dark projectiles point-blank. The Jester raised his hand—and the projectiles simply vanished, consumed by an invisible barrier.
"Now it's my turn," he said, sweeping his hand. From his blade erupted an arc of light that raced across the ground, forcing Alex to hurl himself aside.
When Alex braced for another strike—the Jester was already standing right before him. The light sword stopped a few centimeters from his neck.
"This was fun," he said with a smile, lowering the blade. "But I'm still stronger."
Alex, breathing heavily, lowered his blood sword and gave a small nod.
"Only for now."
The Jester laughed.
"I'll be waiting for a rematch."
Alex, exhausted but with confidence in his eyes, wiped the sweat from his cheeks with the back of his hand and smiled.
"I'm ready anytime. Another round?"
The Jester chuckled, flicking his light sword aside, where it dissolved into sparkles.
"Oh, I like your spirit. But for the first time—that's enough. I've seen what I needed. Now I can craft a training plan that'll squeeze out every drop of your potential… and then some."
Alex caught his breath, dismissing the blood sword.
"Perfect. I've got plenty to improve."
The Jester wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from his brow and squinted mockingly.
"By the way, have you changed your mind about dinner?"
Alex sighed heavily.
"I already promised. Though… judging by the way you looked at me back then, it seems I didn't really have much of a choice."
The Jester snickered and theatrically pressed a hand to his chest.
"A refusal from you would have disappointed not only me, but all my guests. And that, my friend, would be a true crime against hospitality."
"I figured as much."
A magical circle appeared beneath their feet once more. Light and shadow swirled, spiraling together—and in a moment both men vanished from the clearing, leaving behind only the battlefield's desolation and a faint lingering heat.