A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 76: The Madness

In the world six. Mo Fei sat on a large tree in the center of the forest. He wore a black robe with a long white scarf hanging by his neck. The Glaive rested on his arm.

The forest was dense with thick trees. In the middle was a road that led to a village. A world of the feudal era.

The Jester’s face crept on his face. The world disoriented, his face dripping the flesh down, changing shapes multiple times, changing his face into something terrifying, an ugly being, then reshaping into the Jester, then a clown, then a twisted version.

He reached out his hand and pressed his palms against his temples. Clenching his head tightly, he shifted back to his original face.

He lost his balance, and the mask fell, showing his true face. He also fell alongside the mask on the ground from the large tree.

Mo Fei clawed at his head. The headache got worse, and his mind constantly shifted from madness to normal. His vision turned disoriented as he slowly grabbed his Glaive to hold it tightly.

”How long...”

The spirits were eating the corruption, but they weren’t fast enough. Their hunger didn’t end, so they kept festering over the madness.

He stumbled forward. Seeing the village ahead, he turned his steps away. He couldn’t go there yet. He reached for his mask, then put it on again. The Jester’s face settled over his own, but it didn’t fit again. The madness was changing his authority.

From the deep forest. A few people walked through there, two people riding the horses while others walked on barefoot. They wore short-sleeved robes made of unbleached hemp or rough cotton instead of smooth, soft silk. The fabric was stained with mud, sweat, and wood smoke. A cloth strip was wrapped tightly around the lower legs to keep pants secure and protect against thorns. They wore straw sandals and a rough straw hat.

All of them were twisted by greed and malicious hunger for stealing.

”Look, a village to burn.” One of them said, ”Take everything we can.”

The head man’s gaze fell on Mo Fei, sitting there. ”Look at this one.” the head bandit scoffed, pulling his reins as his horse snorted at the sight of Mo Fei standing in the middle of the overgrown path.

”Is he a lost performer? Or a beggar who happened to steal those fine clothes and that Glaive.” One of them questioned.

​Mo Fei barely heard them; his face kept twisting as he tried to maintain his sanity behind the porcelain face of the Jester mask.

​”Eat faster...” Mo Fei commanded inwardly, grinding his teeth without looking back at the bandits.

​The shift in his authority was mutating the mask itself. He pulled out the mask, changing his face back to his true face again. He tied his mask on his shoulder with a rope, his eyes twitching.

”Hey! Are you deaf, bastard, or just begging for a beating?” ​One of the foot bandits barked, stepping forward with his blade raised. ”Drop the weapon and hand over the robe! It looks expensive enough to sell.”

​The bandit took two steps. That was as far as he got.

Mo Fei heard the movement behind him, and he whispered. ”Do not come closer!”

The head bandit laughed loudly, believing in something else. ”You are scared already? Give us the clothes and the weapon, and we won’t kill you, maybe.” He pulled his spear and moved his horse closer to him.

He provoked Mo Fei with his spear, the sharp edge cutting Mo Fei’s shoulder.

The other bandits let out a mocked laugh while they slowly walked toward Mo Fei to surround him, and then the spear fell on the ground, half-broken.

”Great Master, keep your sanity!” Mo Fei’s mind went numb already; his eyes turned dark black.

The bandits stepped back, watching the broken spear on the ground. They couldn’t even track his movement with their bare eyes. Terrified by the scene, the head bandit pulled his horse back, but it refused to move.

The second head man, watching it from the back, gulped, staring at Mo Fei’s back; he ordered. ”He...thinks he can scare us. Kill him and take his items!”

The bandits on their feet looked at Mo Fei and pulled their swords out; both the bandit heads jumped from their horses, pointing their spears toward him.

Mo Fei turned slowly toward them, his Glaive clenched in his hand. The moment they saw his face, their laughter died even further.

​”What... What is he?” One of the foot bandits stuttered, his knees shaking uncontrollably under his rough cotton pants.

​”Shut up and strike!” the head bandit commanded, sweat dropping from his forehead, greed now replaced by desperation. He picked up the broken half and thrust forward with all his strength, aiming straight for Mo Fei’s chest.

​Mo Fei remained still.

​Clang!

The Glaive moved in a blur; the motion was a violent, sweeping arc born of pure, suppressed agony. The impact shattered the wood of the spear, sending splinters exploding in every direction. Before the bandit could even process, Mo Fei stepped inside his guard, his left hand snapping forward to grab the man by his throat.

​The head bandit gasped, choking, as his feet lifted off the dirt. Mo Fei threw him toward the sky, and when he came down, he slashed two arcs with both blades of the Glaive.

The man fell on the ground with a crushing thud. His eyes wide in terror, blood sprayed around at the other bandits.

The second head man quickly jumped on his horse. His heart was pounding in his chest. ”DEMON, HE IS A DEMON!!” but he couldn’t have moved more than a few feet before Mo Fei appeared right in front of him.

With a dash, he slashed down the head bandit’s throat. It fell down from the horse, leaving the walking bandits horrified.

They ran... tried.

Mo Fei followed every single one of them. His Glaive moved with precise movement, slashing them dozens of times.

Soon, there was only blood, covering the street. Each of them died, no one spared by the corrupted hunger.

The silence followed. Mo Fei stood motionless over their bodies. His chest heaved as the darkness in his eyes slowly receded, revealing the exhausted irises behind.

Inside his mind, the spirit had controlled the madness slightly. He watched the dead bodies, killed by his own hand. He squinted his eyes and lowered the Glaive, his fingers trembling as he looked at the blood-soaked hands. ”Tch, what did I do...”

He knew now what that madness could do if provoked... The spirits kept eating, but the corruption after the travel between life and death had caused it to flow independently, creating even more insanity.

What just happened had consumed his mind. He had killed people before... but now he did directly kill them; he didn’t use other beasts this time...

He heaved a long sigh before his eyes landed on something faintly glowing near the head bandit’s body. Moving forward, he noticed a small shard that looked like crystal. He picked it up with his fingers, and as soon as it touched his hand, the shard slowly turned dark, illuminating with a strange black light.

A voice cut through the silence.

”Demon, drop the Shikon jewel shard.”

Mo Fei turned toward the voice.

A woman stood at the edge of the clearing, her bow drawn and an arrow aimed toward his heart. Her hair was slightly messy from the tossing wind, with slightly tanned skin. She wore shrine maiden clothes, bright scarlet red, wide pleated trousers over a crisp white kosode. Her black hair was tied with a paper and silk cord.

Mo Fei blinked once and looked at the shard. Shikon Jewel? ”It’s not what you think...”

The priestess’ deep blue eyes darted at the dead bodies, then at Mo Fei’s bloody hands and corrupted shard that she had only seen turn black when an evil demon held it. ”Drop. It.” She pulled the string further; her earring with puffy red cotton shimmered in the air.

”Okay, I killed them, but listen...” Mo Fei dropped the shard and looked at her again.

The woman scanned his face. She felt the darkness that began to form in Mo Fei’s head again. Her eyes locked on his, which slowly darkened again.

Then, she caught the faint sound of village footsteps approaching the path. If this demon transformed now, the incoming peasants would be slaughtered. Assuming his twitching face was the start of a demonic power. She let go of the string without another thought.

Mo Fei’s breath hitched, feeling the madness returning to him. He swung his Glaive in a desperate arc to block the projectile. The blade struck the arrow, but the spiritual momentum did not waver. The arrow forced his weapon aside and pierced straight into his chest, pinning Mo Fei against the tree.

”Damn you...” He cursed under his breath; slowly, his eyes closed. The arrow had pierced through his chest, narrowly missing his heart.