Chương 20: The Fool’s Tea Party

The group gathered the next morning. Noah, Ava, Cyrus, and Adam stood near the gates of Artem, ready to leave for the Black Witch's territory. Each of them carried something different on their face. Worry. Regret. Excitement. Determination. Noah adjusted the sword at his side and looked toward the forest ahead. The path waiting for them was dangerous. Maybe impossible. But this time, he would not be walking into danger alone. Before they could leave, Cyril stepped forward.

Without saying a word, he pulled Noah and Ava into a tight hug. Ava blinked in surprise. Noah stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed. Cyril held them both as if letting go might be a mistake.

"Please," he said quietly.

"Stay safe, you two." Noah looked up at him.

"I won't let anything happen to her." A fist struck Noah in the stomach. He doubled over with a wheeze. Cyril glared down at him.

"You stay safe as well, stupid son-in-law." Noah coughed, clutching his stomach.

"Y-yes, sir." Ava laughed softly, though her eyes were a little wet. Cyril released them, then pointed between the two.

"I will forgive you for breaking into Noah's room last night, Ava." Ava smiled innocently.

"But Noah." Noah immediately straightened. Cyril's eyes narrowed.

"If I end up becoming a grandfather in the next ten years, I am going to castrate you." Noah's face went bright red.

"No, no, we didn't do anything like that!" Ava burst out laughing. Cyrus adjusted his glasses and looked away, pretending he had not heard anything. Adam stood nearby with his usual grin, though it looked a little more forced than usual.

"Well," he said, clapping his hands together, "before we go, all we need now is a name for our dysfunctional band of misfits." Noah looked at him.

"A name?"

"Of course," Adam said.

"Every legendary group needs one." Cyrus glanced toward Noah.

"Noah is the party's leader," he said.

"So he should have the honor of naming it." Noah froze. Everyone turned toward him. Ava smiled. Lux floated nearby, golden butterflies circling lazily around her.

"Well?" Lux asked.

"Choose something suitably heroic, young Hero." Noah looked toward the forest ahead.

"We are going to hunt a witch," he said.

"A group of fools walking toward a task that might be impossible." Ava watched him with growing interest. Noah's grip rested lightly on the hilt of his sword.

"Years ago, before the First Apocalypse, there was a gathering formed by women who were considered witches." Lux's smile shifted slightly, as if she already knew where this was going.

"They called themselves the Witches' Tea Party," Noah continued. Cyrus adjusted his glasses. Adam's forced grin softened into something more curious.

"So," Noah said, turning back to them, "I have decided on our party's name." He took a breath.

"We shall be known as the Fool's Tea Party." For a moment, no one spoke. Then Ava's eyes lit up.

"I like it." Noah smiled.

"You do?"

"It sounds reckless," Ava said.

"So it fits us perfectly." Cyrus sighed.

"It is dramatic."

"That means you like it," Ava said.

"I did not say that."

"You didn't have to." This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Lux floated nearby, tapping one finger against her cheek.

"I have been part of worse groups," she said.

"The Third and Sixth Heroes had absolutely no naming sense." Noah blinked.

"Really?"

"It was brutal," Lux said.

"I nearly died of cringe." Cyrus stared at her.

"You are a primordial god."

"Yes," Lux said.

"And even I have limits." Adam chuckled, then turned toward the forest.

"Alright, little Hero." He rested his spear against his shoulder.

"Let's head out." Noah looked back at Lux. She remained near the gate, golden butterflies drifting around her. Because of the barrier surrounding Medusa's territory, she could go no farther. Lux gave a lazy wave.

"Try not to die." Noah frowned.

"That's your farewell?"

"It is practical." Ava smiled and waved back.

"We'll be back." Lux's expression was unreadable beneath her butterfly mask.

"You had better be." Noah turned toward the path ahead. Ava stood at his side. Cyrus followed with quiet focus. Adam walked behind them, still smiling, though something heavy lingered in his eyes. Together, the Fool's Tea Party entered the forest. Ahead waited the Black Witch. And the first true trial of the Eighth Hero. As they traveled deeper into the forest, the trees began to change. The healthy green of Álfheimr faded behind them.

Branches twisted into unnatural shapes, bending at angles no living tree should have grown. The bark turned dark and cracked, and the roots that crawled across the ground looked more like veins than wood. No monsters appeared here. Not one. That was not because this part of the forest was safe. It was because of the influence of the Fifth Apocalypse. Silvia Morgan. The Apocalypse of Plagues. Dorothea, the Apocalypse of Thorns, had created the forest itself, but Silvia had once made this corrupted region her home.

Her hatred for the Emperor had been so great that she cursed the border near Helheim on purpose, poisoning the land even after death. A final insult. A wound left behind to make his life harder. Now, the air stank of rot. The ground was damp and soft beneath their feet. Mushrooms grew from dead bark in swollen clusters, and pale mist clung low to the earth like breath from a corpse. Ava stayed close to Noah. Cyrus walked with his eyes narrowed, studying every sign of decay. Adam said nothing.

That silence made Noah uneasy. As they approached the threshold of Medusa's territory, just before the barrier, they found the bodies. Corpses littered the ground. Noah stopped. The dead wore similar clothing, each marked with the same insignia stitched into the fabric. Adam knelt beside one of them, his usual smile gone.

"Noah," he said.

"Look at this." Noah stepped closer. Adam brushed dirt from the dead man's sleeve, revealing a white lotus emblem.

"The White Lotus," Adam said.

"The mark of the Spear Lord's disciples." Cyrus adjusted his glasses, his expression darkening.

"I heard the Spear Lord had been camping here recently to train them." Ava looked around at the bodies.

"What could have done this?" Cyrus's gaze moved toward the deeper forest.

"The Crows, maybe." Adam did not answer. They kept walking. The closer they came to the barrier, the heavier the air became. It pressed against Noah's skin like invisible hands warning him to turn back. Then they saw him. Just outside Medusa's territory stood the Spear Lord. He was an old man with long white hair and a beard that reached his chest. Traditional robes covered his body, decorated with the same White Lotus insignia worn by the disciples around him. His eyes were closed.

A thin line of blood leaked from beneath them. For a moment, no one moved. Ava stepped forward carefully.

"Hey," she said.

"Are you okay?" The old man did not respond. Ava reached out and gently shook his shoulder. The moment she touched him, his body collapsed. Not like a person falling. Like something coming apart. The Spear Lord separated into thousands of small cubes, each one sliding loose from the others before spilling across the ground. Ava stumbled back, horrified. Noah's blood ran cold. The cuts had been so clean, so perfect, that the body had remained standing without realizing it had already been divided.

Only when Ava disturbed it did the truth finally catch up. The Spear Lord was dead. For a moment, no one spoke. The forest seemed to hold its breath. Then a voice cut through the silence.

"Oh, good." Noah's body went cold. The voice came from behind them.

"I was about to head to Gungnir to look for you, Adam." Slowly, they turned. A woman stood among the twisted trees. Adam's eyes widened. Fear crossed his face before he could hide it. He recognized her instantly. The woman was impossibly tall, standing seven and a half feet even before her black heels lifted her closer to eight. She wore black pants, a red shirt, and a black jacket draped over her shoulders. Her crimson eyes were sharp enough to make the air feel thin.

Her black hair flowed behind her like an empty night sky, dark and endless, without a single star to break it. Noah's hand moved to his sword. Ava's daggers were already in her hands. Cyrus went still, his face pale behind his glasses. Adam did not move at all. The woman's gaze swept over them, careless and cold, before settling on Adam.

"But it seems you made your way here." Her lips curved into a faint smile.

"I am death," she said, "for all those unworthy." Noah felt the weight of those words in his bones. In this world, there were two titles that placed a mortal at the peak of all others. Witch. And Martial Arts King. This woman held both. She was the Greatsword Monarch. One of the Seven Martial Arts Kings. And she was known by another name. The Slaughter Witch. Erzsebet Blackwood. She stepped forward. The ground beneath her heel cracked.

Behind her, the remains of the Spear Lord's disciples lay scattered across the rotting forest floor. Adam finally forced himself to breathe.

"Erzsebet…" Her smile widened.

"Hello, Adam." The raid had not even begun. And already, a monster stood in their path.