Who the hell is this guy?! How can he be so strong?

  Laplace's confidence was gradually eroding, even though he was managing to dodge his opponent's blows. He and Shaco had been wrestling for several minutes now, unable to determine who was the stronger, but for some reason he felt at a disadvantage. The jester had quickly realized that his opponent was just playing the fool and didn't seem interested in getting serious.

  -The clown in front of him was absolutely not to be underestimated.

  "Hey! Take this, jester! Acid Javelin! "

  A jet of acid shot from Shaco's mouth, hitting the tree behind Laplace, instantly singling him out. It was a precise blow, but to a seasoned fighter, it would have been obvious that the clown had intentionally missed the target.

  "Damn!"

  Shaco muttered, smiling, snapping the fingers of his right hand in mock irritation.

  “I misfired! Hahahaha!”

  "You really like to laugh, huh?"

  "You cannot live without a good laugh!"

  "You're a strange guy, Shaco. But I have to agree with you on this one."

  The two remained facing each other, still and motionless – as if they were looking at each other without doing anything, but this was far from the truth.

  Laplace had activated his Fake Laugh ability, which allowed him to falsify others' perceptions of reality, creating an illusion. This skill had many uses: he could make someone believe he was unarmed when he actually held a knife, or that he was running to the right when he was actually headed left. In this specific case, he made Shaco believe he was standing still, when in fact he had already reached him from behind to stab him.

  "Take this! Back Stab!"

  With a swift, fluid movement, Laplace stabbed Shaco in the side. Just before impact, he used his Back Stab ability, which allowed him to inflict a poison effect—even without a poisoned weapon—when striking an opponent without being in their line of sight.

  "Ahahahah! I won in the end and…”

  Laplace suddenly fell silent when he saw that the other had stopped making any kind of sound. He almost looked like a puppet.

  “But...why doesn't he scream?”

  "Ohhh! You must have hurt it! Be careful not to break it , though! It's made of rubber, so is very fragile!"

  He froze when he heard a voice behind him. Laplace slowly turned and found Shaco inches from his face, smiling and as crazy as ever. He took a few steps back, putting distance between the two and causing the fake rubber Shaco to fall to the ground, slowly deflating. For some reason, the clown hadn't tried to attack him, despite having the advantage of surprise.

  "H-How did you do that? My Fake Laugh ability should have fooled you!"

  "How can you deceive someone who doesn't see the world the way others do? With the Madman's Eyes skill, I can see through any deception. The problem is, what I see is itself a deception! Hahahaha!"

  "I don't understand how your ability works, but I don't care! You got distracted!"

  In a lightning-fast movement, Laplace lunged to stab Shaco in the chest. At that moment, he activated his Tarot Reader ability, a skill that allowed him to see an image of what would happen a few seconds in the future.

  He'll dodge to the right!

  With the help of Tarot Reader, Laplace predicted that Shaco would move to the right, so he lunged in that direction with a hidden blade hidden in his other arm, making two attacks at once.

  -He missed his target with both shots.

  "What?! Impossible!"

  "Let me guess – a prediction skill?"

  "What kind of trick is this?! How do you block out all my predictions?! What are you?!"

  Shaco burst out laughing at the frustration in Laplace's tone. He seemed to be having a great time.

  "No tricks, no deception! How can you predict something unpredictable? Hahahaha!"

  Laplace was losing his will to fight; he couldn't understand the opponent he was facing. Shaco fought haphazardly, with no real strategy—he relied entirely on antics, and his fighting style was nonexistent.

  Incredible...

  He admired him. Laplace would never admit it, but Shaco would have been perfect for the team he was on. If the president had seen him in action, he would have made him an honorary member of their team. He would have been the fifth jester!

  But he couldn't ask him now; it would be too much of a blow to his poor pride. After all, he was Laplace, the Wonderer Jester, co-founder of the Four Jesters. He couldn't use the "Want to join our team" excuse to justify losing to him and make fun of him.

  He would be perfect, but his perfection for the role makes me angry!

  Filled with envy, Laplace attacked Shaco. No skill, no tricks, just a frontal attack. Needless to say – he missed. The clown wasted no time and, pulling out of thin air a gigantic hammer he could never have lifted with his frail arms, prepared to strike Laplace in the back.

  “Now it's my turn!”

  “H-Hey! W-Wait! Wait a minute!”

  He tried to dodge the blow, but it was a futile move. Laplace felt a sharp pain in his butt and found himself hurled into the sky, landing comically on a pile of cardboard boxes that appeared out of nowhere.

  “That hurts! And where the hell did these come from?!”

  Furious, Laplace kicked one of the boxes, hitting Shaco in the face with it. Surprisingly, the attack had an effect—too much, in fact. The clown raised his hands to his face and began to stagger as if he had been struck by a fatal knife.

  "Ohhh...it's the end for me!"

  “Huh?”

  “You've discovered my weakness—which is the same as that of pedophiles who dress up as Buzz Lightyear—namely, cardboard boxes! Oh! Poor me!”

  Shaco whimpered, laughing, sounding like a woman in a play. He fell into Laplace's arms like a dead weight, while the latter looked at him with the expression of someone who had lost the thread of the conversation.

  “What kind of trickery is this?”

  “Your evil gift has finally paid of!”

  “It...It has? Wait, what I’m even saying?!”

  “These boxes I randomly conjured up are made entirely of...cardboard!”

  “Yeah...so?”

  “Cardboard boxes nullify my powers!”

  “The...cardboard?”

  “Cardboard boxes! The boxes! Boooooxes!”

  “Are you kidding, right?”

  Laplace didn't believe him at all; the situation was too absurd to be real. He initially thought it was a hoax, but began to believe it was real when blood began to come out of the clown's mouth, which was increasingly becoming a dead weight in his arms. Shaco started coughing and his face began to lose color, as if he were ill.

  Are you kidding? Is he really dying from cardboard poisoning?

  Laplace began to slightly regret having accidentally poisoned such a fine entertainer. It would have helped their cause of making the world a more chaotic and fun place. Shaco would have been a perfect fit for their organization; no one had ever impressed him like this dying clown.

  "Laplace...Cough Cough! Can you hold this for me?"

  On the verge of death, Shaco handed something to Laplace, closing it in his hand without letting him see it. When the Wonderer Pierrot opened his palm, he noticed a small piece of metal. It was a miniature crank, so small it almost looked like a toy. He had never seen anything like it before and had no idea what it meant.

  "This is?"

  "Fuse..."

  "Huh? A fuse of what?"

  "Shaco in the box..."

  The dying clown revealed in his other palm a box bomb similar to the one he had used shortly before the battle with the jester, which had appeared from who knows where. The explosion engulfed them both, throwing Laplace several meters away. He was seriously injured, but still alive.

  "Ugh! That...That was..."

  He coughed up blood and stood up, holding a hand to the right side of his face, which was no longer covered by his mask, having been shattered in the explosion. Laplace observed the epicenter of the explosion, now reduced to a wall of flame and ash.

  "Fantastic!"

  The jester shouted at the top of his lungs, the fire illuminating his broken mask.

  “Oh my God! You were a genius, Shaco! Really! Why didn't you let me know sooner? Why?! I would have given you a spot in the Four Jesters! When Roswald finds out, he'll be very disappointed... There are no good comedians like you anymore.”

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Though only seconds before they had been fighting to the death, Laplace was now mourning the loss of what he might have considered an ally.

  "Ohhh! So you're one of the Four Jesters? Thank you so much for the info!"

  “...!”

  Laplace couldn't believe his eyes. From the flames raging before him, Shaco emerged, completely unharmed by the explosion or the previous poison. He was so well-groomed he looked as if he'd just arrived.

  "How did you-?"

  Laplace took a step back. This wasn't normal; what he was facing was no ordinary demon jester. He'd understood that Shaco was a genius and a natural entertainer, but what he was doing was altering reality in a way even he couldn't.

  "Ahahahaha! Look at that face! Look at that face! He wasn't expecting that!"

  Another Shaco stepped out from behind a tree and joined the original's laughter.

  "Yeah! He fell for it hook, line, and sinker!"

  Yet another one appeared out of nowhere, laughing loudly.

  "But...how many of you are there?!"

  Laplace couldn't believe his eyes. Every minute, a new Shaco was appearing; there was a black infestation. There were five, ten, twenty, thirty, and so on.

  "Where are you?! Who's the real one?!"

  All the clowns stopped laughing abruptly. They started looking at each other, pointing at each other as if they weren't even allies. One started shouting "Imposter!", while others started saying nonsense like "You're the 2012 version!" or "You're the one from the movie! You're not canon in the comics!" and other nonsensical thing that Laplace couldn't follow.

  What the fuck is going on?!

  Everything became a mess until every single Shaco started laughing, until it all became a great symphony of laughter that seemed destined to never end. However, they all stopped abruptly, with uncanny coordination.

  "The real one? I don't know what you're talking about! Let me explain something to you, jester..."

  Everyone began moving toward Laplace, almost surrounding him.

  "Shaco may be one, but we all are Shaco!"

  "I'm going crazy here!"

  He shouted, still covering the right side of his face with his hand. He truly couldn't understand anything anymore, not even his own emotions. He was excited, scared, and amazed all at the same time. He couldn't truly understand his opponent, and it gnawed at him that he was losing to him—but if he'd been a mere spectator, he would have had a blast watching that magnificent spectacle.

  "No! I don't intend to die there! Goodbye!"

  Laplace conjured a marble out of thin air and threw it to the ground, causing it to explode and create a cloud of smoke that covered his escape, leaving the Shacos alone.

  "What are you doing? Why aren't you chasing him?!"

  "I thought you were supposed to do it!"

  "No, you had to do it!"

  “Damn! We even agreed on this beforehand!”

  “What a shitty organization we have...”

  “Since we’re arguing, can I go to the bathroom? I need to take number two!”

  Instead of giving chase, the various clowns began arguing among themselves. It was all a comedy show once again, despite there being no audience. None of the Shacos were there to kill Laplace, but only to obtain information. Letting him escape would have been fine, hoping Almodeus wouldn’t complain.

  "It doesn't matter! We've done our part! Now we just have to wait for it all to be over."

  “Hey! Want to go to Sein and have her tell a penguin joke?”

  “Yes!”

  “Sure!”

  “I’m in!”

  One of the Shacos approached the flames from the explosion, allowing their light to illuminate the sinister grin on his face.

  "We'll finish playing with Laplace another time!"

  While the others were busy trying to decide what to do with Sein later, this particular Shaco seemed to have something else on his mind. He began laughing out loud, his sick laughter echoing throughout the forest.

  “This will be so much fun! Until next time, jester!”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Reaching the end of the stairs, Hirashi found herself in a huge room, built like an arena. Hattori and Yor were following her, ready for any eventuality. They expected a surprise attack, but it didn't happen.

  "Mh?"

  Before them, at the back of the room, sat a colossal figure. It was a troll about five meters tall, clad in full bronze armor with two sturdy horns on its helmet. In its right hand it held a huge, long, barbed mace.

  "A war troll..."

  Hirashi had never encountered a war troll—they were very rare in her world. However, she knew they were the most powerful type of their race. Trolls could easily adapt to any environment, making the species subject to various evolutions based on their habitat. War trolls were different, however; unlike other types—such as ice, volcanic, or mountain trolls—war trolls were not defined in the least by where they were born, but by how they grew up.

  -Essentially, a war troll was a troll trained for battle. Unlike normal trolls, it relied on both strength and technique.

  Interesting...

  With her usual calm and casual manner, Hirashi began advancing toward the colossal warrior, without the slightest trace of fear or insecurity. Yor and Hattori followed close behind, equally unconcerned.

  "Huh? Who are you?"

  The figure asked, standing up and brandishing the large steel club. From the way he held it in one hand, it was clear he was undoubtedly very strong physically, but also skilled at using it.

  "My name is Hirashi."

  She introduced herself, acting like a guest.

  “These are my companions, Yor and Hattori. I assume you are Hyo-Zan-Ryu—I've heard a lot about you."

  The troll's hearty laughter echoed through the room. He seemed in excellent spirits.

  "That's right! I am the great Hyo-Zan-Ryu! The most valiant among us troll warriors! I don't suppose you're here to be my students, are you?"

  "Exactly. Our allies are now on their way to your King, and soon this place will be under our control. I was asked to spare you, so I give you the option of surrendering—"

  "I refuse!"

  "Didn't you hear what I said?"

  "On the contrary! I heard you right, strange pale woman!"

  Hyo-Zan-Ryu retorted proudly, slapping his left hand on his chest.

  “But a warrior never gives up! I may not agree with the King's plans, but that doesn't mean I'll betray my kind or my tribe!”

  Hirashi sighed slightly at that statement; now everything was getting complicated for her again. She had no problem with the troll's decision, but she would have preferred to end things peacefully. The troll before her could be useful to Almodeus.

  "Then I'll have to kill you..."

  "There is no other way, but do not think it will be easy! I am the great Hyo-Zan-Ryu!"

  The titan took a few steps forward, to approach the woman and begin the duel, when a scream interrupted them.

  "No, master! Please!"

  To everyone's surprise, Ryu entered the room and walked past Hirashi, approaching the other troll. She had sensed him for some time and realized he was following them. According to orders, Ryu was to remain on the battlefield to try to convince as many trolls as possible to surrender once the Ruthless Devourer ability was deactivated.

  "Ryu, I see you're still alive! That's a good thing."

  The warrior welcomed him in a friendly manner.

  "Yes! I was spared by Lady Almodea, but that's not why I'm here! I'm here to beg you not to fight!"

  "What are you talking about, Ryu?! A warrior never gives up!"

  The armored troll roared, disappointed by his pupil's cowardice.

  "But life is only one! You can't waste it for something you don't believe in!"

  Ryu responded in kind. He would never have done such a thing before, but the respect he had for his master surpassed even the scant etiquette trolls possessed. If Hyo-Zan-Ryu had fought Hirashi, he would surely have died; he was certain of it. He had become the woman's student and knew well how powerful he could be even when he didn't try.

  “Please, master! Surrender and help us rebuild a new tribe!”

  Seeing that reaction, Hyo-Zan-Ryu rested his mace on his shoulder. Even with his face completely covered by his horned helmet, it was clear he was deep in thought. He understood that his student's words weren't motivated by cowardice, but by the fear of losing someone dear to him. It wasn't a feeling these trolls were familiar with.

  "What made you change so much, Ryu?"

  “It was…a combination of things.”

  The other muttered, sighing.

  “Hate me, master—but I can't let you face Lady Hirashi! Face me, instead!”

  “Huh? Are you out of your mind?!”

  For the first time, Hyo-Zan-Ryu dropped his proud warrior tone and showed surprise.

  "And why would you do that?! Do you have so much respect for that woman that you're willing to go against your own master?!"

  "It's not just respect! You have no hope to win!"

  Hyo-Zan-Ryu's grip on his mace tightened at those words. It was unheard of for one of his students to call him weaker than another, especially one as loyal as Ryu. He had always been his greatest admirer. What had changed him so much that he would go against his own master?

  "Are you implying that she is stronger than me?"

  "I'm not implying it; it is!"

  Ryu stated, trying to remain respectful.

  “She's the strongest I know, I swear! Even if you joined forces with the King, you couldn't beat her! Believe me, please!”

  Hyo-Zan-Ryu opened his eyes in surprise. The way Ryu was begging him so desperately not to confront that woman behind his back irritated him, but it also made him think deeply. How powerful could Hirashi be to make someone like Ryu speak like that? It must have truly traumatized him.

  Ryu, for his part, wanted to add that—for him—Hirashi could defeat even the entire troll army alone, but he held back to avoid appearing fanatical in the eyes of his master. He had experienced the woman's strength firsthand, as during one of their training sessions, she had defeated him, Hattori, Yor, Zed, and Shen with a single blow, without even trying. She wasn't called the "Queen of Assassins" for nothing, but his master couldn't know that; he would never take his word for it.

  "All right, Ryu. I'll fight you! If you win, I'll surrender, but if I win..."

  Hyo-Zan-Ryu raised his mace towards Hirashi, swinging it slightly in a threatening manner.

  "...You'll be the next one I face!"

  Hirashi simply shrugged, then turned her back on the two trolls and approached Hattori and Yor. She would remain a spectator for now. She had no idea how powerful the Troll Hero was, but she was certain it wouldn't be a walk in the park for her student.

  Good luck, Ryu.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Ryu turned to his master and drew his sword, ready for battle. It would be tough, but he was much stronger now after training with Hirashi. He had learned new techniques and his level had reached 30. Stats-wise, he was no match for Hyo-Zan-Ryu, who was level 43. He couldn't rely on brute strength alone, or he would prove he hadn't learned anything in that month of training.

  "I'm ready! Ahhhhh!"

  With a lightning-fast move, Ryu lunged at his master, spinning around and attempting to strike him with his sword, but was forcefully pushed back by the other's club, which put a few meters between the two, before attacking again.

  "They seem on par..."

  Hattori muttered, rubbing his white goatee.

  “No, Hyo-Zan-Ryu is stronger.”

  Hirashi replied, crossing her arms.

  “In a contest of pure strength, Ryu would lose. He must be careful and rely on his technique.”

  Yor and Hattori nodded in unison, trusting their teacher's words.

  "Battle Art: Blood Slash!"

  Ryu attempted to swing a slash at his enemy, but Hyo-Zan-Ryu blocked it easily, countering with a punch to the face, breaking his jaw and knocking him away. Besides the disparity in strength, there was also a difference in equipment.

  "You've weakened, Ryu! You're so scared and hesitant! What the hell happened to you?"

  Ryu spat out some blood and waited for his jaw to regenerate before he could respond.

  "I won't disappoint my teacher! But I won't disappoint you either..."

  "Oh, that lady's your teacher now? Fine! I'm done taking it easy!"

  Without using a Battle Art, Hyo-Zan-Ryu lunged at his opponent at extremely high speed, preparing a strike to the belly.

  "Insurmountable fortress!"

  By using an art, Ryu was able to endure the pain without flinching. He would still take damage shortly, but he would finally have the opportunity to launch an attack without his master being able to counter.

  This is the new level I've reached, thanks to Master Hirashi and all my new allies. This is the true power of a troll!

  "I must defeat you in order to save you, master! I will not let it end any other way! Supreme Slash!"

  Ryu's blade was enhanced by the dozens of Arts and skills he employed. He swung it and struck Hyo-Zan-Ryu on the left shoulder, generating a powerful shockwave, but it failed to dent his armor. This in itself wasn't an indication that the blow had missed; the vibration could still have inflicted devastating internal damage.

  "..."

  "..."

  "..."

  Hyo-Zan-Ryu did not move; he remained still as a statue.

  "What did you say just now, you braggart? I won't let it end any other way?"

  The Troll Hero took a couple of steps back and raised his mace, as if he had taken no damage from Ryu's attack.

  "Impossible! It was my supreme art!"

  "I take back what I said, you've improved! But it's clearly not enough!"

  In one fluid motion, Hyo-Zan-Ryu struck the other troll squarely in the face with his club, knocking him away and crashing into a wall a few feet away from Yor. The spectators immediately gathered to check on their ally's condition.

  "Forgive me, teacher. I disappointed you-"

  With his last words said, Ryu fell to the ground unconscious.

  -He had been defeated.

  Hattori watched the scene, amazed by Hyo-Zan-Ryu's stamina and how he had defeated his opponent without the use of Battle Arts or skill, only strength and technique. It was clear he was an expert fighter. Yor simply remained silent.

  "I see that, compared to Ryu, you are on another level."

  Hirashi muttered, beginning to advance toward Hyo-Zan-Ryu, without fear or trepidation. She knew her student was trying to protect the old master from a brutal fight. She herself didn't consider herself a merciful woman.

  "Yor, Hattori, take care of Ryu. I have someone else to take care of..."

  She came before the troll and unsheathed her katana, holding it in one hand.

  "Since you defeated my student, I will have to avenge him."

  She aimed her weapon at him, staring at the troll with her violet eyes, filled with chaos energy. Hirashi was ready for the fight, but more than for Ryu, she was doing this for Almodea. She knew her sister was probably already engaged in a fight somewhere in that mountain, and she wanted to finish it as quickly as possible to support her.

  However, she couldn't destroy the honor of the warrior before her; that would be unfairly brutal for an enemy who was fighting them solely because of his moral code and with no ill intentions. Hirashi was always unsure of how to behave in such situations: ignore her opponent and be a brutal assassin, or show respect to a condemned being?

  -She decided to follow her instincts and offer the troll as honorable a fight as possible.

  "Hyo-Zan-Ryu, I challenge you to a duel."