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Chapter 161: The True Jester

Tonight’s night sky was anything but peaceful.

Dark currents surged, waves crashed relentlessly, and dense dark clouds stretched endlessly, even hiding the moonlight.

On the deck, clergy and sailors were frantically busy, treating the wounded, steering the warship, and fighting against the raging waves with great difficulty.

The Black Sea between the East and West continents was notoriously fickle—sometimes clear skies, other times storms—much like a woman’s mood, making it the greatest challenge for maritime trade between the two continents.

At the front of the deck stood the High Extraordinary Being, the Archangel, unyielding against the winds and waves, stabilizing the morale of the troops.

However, Simon was nowhere near as calm as he appeared.

The waves couldn’t rock his body, but they trembled his heart.

Initially, the journey to seek the Destined Saintess went smoothly, with sunlight shining down and no clouds in sight.

But the final outcome was as tumultuous and dark as this very moment; no matter how much they fought onward, they ended up in a miserable state.

Without the Destined Saintess, what direction would this world’s future take?

Human fate felt like the warship at this moment—never a leisurely boat navigating the storms of the Black Sea, with an uncertain future, like a lone traveler on thin ice; one wrong step could lead to a deep-sea detour and a bottomless abyss.

Simon had always believed that only the Pope, who took it upon himself to save humanity, was the sole navigator who could guide them through the dark sea, stepping boldly over the chasm, the one true savior of mankind.

But now…

Without the Destined Saintess, even the hope of salvation seemed distant.

And Simon was even less willing to acknowledge the possibility revealed by the Black-Haired Boy back then.

The crisis of the world was a direct threat.

But if even the Pope, who was supposed to lead humanity forward, was a lie, then where on earth were they meant to go…

“Heh, looks like you’ve finally woken up from that fat pig’s lies, huh?”

A mysterious cold laugh echoed in the void, startling Simon.

Before he could pinpoint the source, the already tumultuous sea completely boiled over.

Surpassing thunder and gale, it was as if a tsunami had formed from the very essence of chaos—

It was a terrifying tentacle, many times larger than the warship, covered in numerous suckers and maws!

With a heavy blow, the sea trembled.

The iron-clad, Holy Light-protected warship let out a wail as it was split in two by the massive tentacle, accompanied by a pale lightning flash in the sky.

Countless crew members rained down into the abyss.

And beneath the deep sea, a fish-headed monster wielding a pitchfork mumbled chillingly as it pounced toward the survivors still clinging to the broken ship.

Endless gigantic tentacles soared up, their myriad mouths and suckers laughing maniacally in a language incomprehensible to humans, weaving together a hellish scene.

In the darkness where even the lightning couldn’t penetrate, a bizarre cluster of uncountable magic eyes glimmered vaguely.

One tentacle alone was more formidable than the warship, indicating the terror of its true form.

Yet what truly made Simon shudder was a shadow.

It was a figure in a black robe, casually sitting on a tentacle, as if swinging on a swing.

The chaotic colors warped his face, making it appear strangely comical.

The appearance was trivial, but terrifying was the aura it exuded.

Before the figure even spoke, Simon hadn’t even sensed its presence!

Simon couldn’t recall any such odd high-level being among humanity, the Demon Race, or the cultists!

The Archangel stepped forward.

A thick presence of Holy Light dispersed the darkness, forming a barrier like invisible flames, causing those rampaging giant tentacles to hesitate and retreat slightly.

But that comical figure seemed indifferent, as if it were admiring a rather unimpressive trick.

Simon spoke heavily: “I don’t know who you are, but attacking the Holy Light Church, I assume you’re prepared to face judgment?”

Along with his words, the sacred scripture appeared in his hands, and deep blue wings spread behind him.

Previously, he had hastily battled Teresa, but this time, he was fully prepared, not daring to take any chances.

Yet the figure on the tentacle merely scoffed: “The Archangel, the youngest high-level cleric in history who masters light magic, Simon Uriel.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.”

“You can call me the Jester. But considering you lost to a kid, failed to capture the Destined Saintess, and completely botched what the Pope arranged for you…”

The Jester pointed at Simon, laughing heartily, a flamboyant mockery on his face: “My friend, you are the true jester here!”

“Such low-level provocation!”

Simon waved the scripture, and boundless chains of Holy Light materialized, sealing off the Jester’s escape route as if a serpent was baring its fangs.

The chains unleashed like a python ready to strike.

The Jester did not move.

Rather, it was the shadow beneath the deep sea that surged menacingly.

Furious tentacles raised monstrous waves, easily shredding countless chains and charging toward the ship with overwhelming force from all sides.

The chains of light were merely a cage to bind the enemy, but a single hit from the tentacles of the deep-sea behemoth was enough to crush every survivor onboard.

Simon’s expression darkened, and he was about to flip through the scripture again.

But before he could, the sword light arrived.

The world dimmed, lightning shattered, and it felt as if the entire universe had fallen into a vacuum—too quiet for comfort.

Then, a rain of thick blood poured down.

The world was no longer silent.

Immediately, a circular area around the warship was completely severed by that single sword strike, resembling an invisible barrier.

The terrifying sword energy overturned the monstrous waves, exposing the dry seafloor. Those massive tentacles that had blotted out the sky were all cut off and fell amidst a tumult of blood and sea.

Only then did the true form of the deep-sea behemoth reveal itself a bit.

Countless maws, tentacles, eyeballs, and even bodies appeared, as if a myriad of sea monsters had grotesquely blended together, an indescribable mountain of flesh from the deep sea.

That was the projection of the malevolent god worshipped by the Abyss Dwellers, the Lord of the Abyss.

Yet facing the gray-haired old man who was breaking through the waves and raising his sword, treading through the blood rain and roaring seas with ease, the projection suddenly felt a hint of fear and let out a howl as it retreated deeper into the sea.

The survivors cheered for that sword strike, reinvigorated.

“This…”

Even Simon was secretly astonished.

That last sword strike, even he himself might not have been able to withstand.

Just waving a sword was enough to rival the full strength of a rank 4 being?

He had never doubted the strength of the Sword Saint; in fact, knowing that this was the most prominent of the Six Heroes, that was why he had selected him for the journey.

Even so, witnessing first hand how one sword could split thunder and divide the sea, even forcing a projection of a malevolent god into retreat made Simon incredibly shocked.

The Sword Saint Rayo was about to swing his sword again, but his gray eyes went cold, shifting to face behind him.

But even the Sword Saint couldn’t afford to be careless in front of the projection of the malevolent god.

The sea beast roared, and the furious tentacles once again came crashing down like a dark cloud, forcing Rayo to raise his sword in defense.

At the same time, Simon realized the severity of the situation, spreading his wings and dragging out a momentary streak of light as he rushed back to defend.