Cursed Odyssey

Somewhere on the Island of 'The Emperor'

The explosion shattered the morning calm like distant thunder.

A pillar of flame and debris shot skyward, painting the dawn gray. Smoke billowed outward in rippling waves, carrying the scent of rot and cooked flesh.

Slowly, the smoke settled.

Where forest once stood, a crater sat wide as a city block.

And there, sprawled across the ruins like a fallen monument, lay a giant serpent— what some called Leviathan.

The serpent's body stretched beyond sight—flesh and obsidian scales cracked like pottery. Eyes huge as airships stared sightlessly at the sky, white as milk. A tongue the size of a train sprang from jaws that could have swallowed buildings whole. Each scale, the size of a man, caught the morning light reflecting colours that shouldn't exist. Twin horns jutted from its temples like broken trees, still smoking from whatever force had brought it down.

Atop such a corpse stood a single figure—a tiny speck. Brown robes, worn and ripped, fluttered in the settling wind, and beneath his hood, an aged face peered out with eyes bright as a child's. Gray streaked his brown hair like winter frost, but his grin held nothing of winter's bite.

"After five centuries in that cave..." His voice carried across the devastation like rolling thunder. "I've finally broken through! Ranked up to the 6th act! I am a demi-god in flesh!"

He spread his arms wide, cheering in his victory.

"Oh, how marvellous! Oh, oh, how truly marvellous! Even this mighty beast stood no chance!" His laughter echoed off distant cliffs. "Oh, I wonder how the world has changed! Hundreds of years of progress—I'm just itching to reintroduce myself... especially to her... if she's still alive!"

"Hahahaha! I know, right, my man! Such a weak beast—"

HUH!?

A voice. Behind him.

Instinct screamed. He whirled, fist cutting through air fast enough to boom.

But,his knuckles found nothing but empty space.

HEH!?

His face snapped back forward and saw... him

Standing casually on the leviathan's scales was a young man. Twenty at most.

That grin of his caught his attention first— tugging at the corner of his lips like he was trying not to laugh.

He tipped his black top hat and adjusted his black suit. Red trims lined the suit edges, fabric sharp enough to cut. A white handkerchief peeked from his breast pocket. He pulled it out to dab his face. Pointed leather shoes tapped against the scales in a lazy rhythm, silver-handled cane gleaming in his grip.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? W—"

Suddenly, he was interrupted.

"Who are you, where did you come from, how did you show up behind me—blah, blah, blah! Can't you think of something original?" The stranger rolled his eyes. "Just call me Joker,"

"Ah—"

"Now you're thinking! Original like what? Hmm…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm hmmm hmmm… I don't know... Call me a slur! 'Fuck' is so overused. You're from, what, the Third Era? Didn't they have exotic vocabulary back then?" Joker asked.

"Can you just shut the fuck up?" The old man yelled.

"There you go saying 'fuck' again!" Joker strolled across the beast's corpse like it was a garden path. "Call me a bumbling retard, maybe a—"

"I SAID SHUT IT!"

Lightning erupted from the old man's fingertips. Purple-white energy tore through the forest, vaporizing trees in heartbeats, acres of Ancient oaks turned smoking craters.

"Wow, wow! Close one!"

I MISSED!? He inwardly roared.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"

"Where's the slur?" Joker face palmed.

"Shut the fuck up!"

The old man swept both hands, electricity painting the dawn sky in violent hues. Trees became ash. Stone became glass. Half the visible forest simply ceased to exist.

He panted, chest heaving with effort and rage.

…

Clap Clap Clap

But Joker stood untouched as if he phased through it all, dusting imaginary lint from his suit.

"That's all?"

Gravity Well Act 6!

The air compressed around Joker. Reality bent inward, crushing space itself. The monster's scales cratered beneath the pressure. Stone shards turned to powder.

Clap.

"DISINTEGRATE, FOOL!" He grinned downward, searching for remains—

Where is—

"Where are you looking?"

Joker yawned above him. Everything was floating around him—debris, dust, fragments of Leviathan scales.

"How's it like down there?" Joker grinned.

Anti-gravity!? A perfect counter? What are the chances? How is he—

No time to think.

I must enhance myself.

Accel Heart. Clap.

Titan's Strength! Clap.

Lightning Reflexes! Clap.

Arcane Renewal. Clap.

Storm Step... Caldera Pulse. Clap. Clap.

Power thrummed through his bones!

or should have…

Muscles flared gold, nerves sang, the soul-thread brightened and—

Nothing.

His body glowed and lied to him.

It rose up, then plummeted down, as though edging him.

"Are you done with your light show? I could have killed you five times over while standing still, you bag of bones." Joker shrugged with casual indifference.

The old man's eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, lightning crackled from his feet. He lunged forward, fist moving so fast it cracked the air itself.

However, his attack met air. Joker shifted his head slightly. Hair danced in the wind of the missed blow.

"Talk! Why so quiet suddenly!" Joker mused, but there was no response.

From the punch, the old man transitioned into a low kick that swept across the leviathan's scales, carving deep grooves.

"Or has your brain rotted so much in that cave you've resorted to only a few voice lines?" Joker continued, while jumping over it.

The kick found empty air.

The old man flowed into a high kick. This time, Joker blocked…

With one finger.

The impact sent him flying toward the forest, but he landed gracefully on a thick branch like it were all choreographed.

The old man jumped forward to meat him— their fists clashed as they stared face to face.

"You holding in your pee or something? You were talking normally just earlier!" Joker's tongue wouldn't stop working.

Breaking off from each other, they launched themselves between the trees like cannonballs. They used the trees like springboards.

Thick trunks shattered with each impact, wood exploding in deadly shrapnel. Animals screamed and fled in all directions, but in the chaos of splintering wood and sonic booms, many died or were blown away.

From a distance, they seemed evenly matched—two blurs of motion carving destruction. But up close, was a different story.

Joker hadn't thrown a single offensive move. He flowed around every attack like he was dancing.

They clashed once more.

The old man threw an overhead. Wind pressure from the punch alone toppled trees in a straight line, the bark peeling from the shockwave.

But Joker blocked it with one finger. This time, he did not even recoil backwards.

The old man's eyes bulged. One finger!?

"You holding in your pee or something? You were talking normally just earlier!"

Rage boiled over. Phantom Bind! Act 6!

Clap.

Invisible chains should have wrapped around his opponent, crushing him in spectral links. Instead, phantom keys materialized in Joker's hand. He unlocked the air itself, dispelling the binding with a theatrical flourish.

"Nice one! Almost ripped my new suit!"

Joker flicked him away like an annoying insect.

The old man whizzed through the air, bounced off a tree trunk, then off another. Joker appeared beside him mid-flight, flicking him again like a ping-pong ball, where he was the sole player for both sides.

The old man twisted, caught himself against empty air through sheer force of will.

Soul Siphon! Act 6!

Clap.

Energy tendrils erupted from his fingers, seeking to drain Joker's life force. But somehow, something began draining his power instead.

THE FLOW IS GOING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!?

__

He dissapeared!? Where did he-

"I'm here!" It was Joker's voice.

Suddenly, a tap on his shoulder. He spun—nothing.

"No, right here!"

Whoosh. The voice came from behind again.

Suddenly, his pants dropped.

"Tie that belt harder next time!" Joker laughed.

The old man's face, burning with humiliation, yanked his pants up and roared. "Time Dilation! Act 6!"

Clap

"We're screaming attack names like kids now? Okay" Joker laughed.

"Time Acceleration! Act secret!"

The world should have slowed to a crawl around him. Instead, everything accelerated. His opponent moved so fast he seemed to teleport between positions.

How is this even possible? What kind of luck is this? For every spirit I use, he somehow always has the perfect counter! Is this a joke? A dream?

Suddenly, his thoughts were cut short—

"You bore me."

The words came from directly in front of him. Then—

*CRACK.*

A single punch to the stomach—

Like a meteorite, he flew backward through solid rock, mountain stone exploding around him. He landed broken against a boulder on the other side, coughing blood. Stone cracked around him like a spider web.

Joker appeared before him as if he'd teleported. "A 6th act arcanist from the Third Era. You know, I kinda had higher hopes. But it turns out…"

He brought out his handkerchief and wiped his face.

"You're really weak."

That grin never left his face.

"R...Retard." The old man croaked.

"Oh oh!" Joker clapped "There you go! Getting some proper insults right out of my playbook! At least that's not a disappointment!"

"Shut... shut that damn shitter you call a mouth... all you spout is shit. You think you've won, yet you've seen nothing!" The old man roared.

"All of this just to beat an Act 2 arcanist of the modern era, by the way." Joker shrugged, tapping his cane against the stone.

"WHAT?" The old man nearly choked on his own spit.

"Use one of those inspection spirits you probably have. What? Did you assume you were invincible and didn't bother checking?"

Despite himself, he followed the suggestion. Inspect.

The reading came back clear as daylight.

No... that can't be...

"See! I really am Act 2! My soul even resonates with it."

"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE! You've used several spirits in this fight alone! And all at a high level!"

"Hmm?" Genuine confusion crossed Joker's face. "I've only used one spirit this entire time."

THERE'S NO WAY!!

"Yes way!" He laughed, as if reading his thoughts. "Should I spell it out for you?"

"I've trained for five centuries!"

"Should have been six or seven then, I don't know..." Joker shrugged, "I'm only like eighteen yet you still lost. Imagine how much more badly you'd be destroyed once I'm like twenty"

"Ahh—"

"Oh, 22, this is pure comedy! This old fossil actually thinks he's something! Hahahaha!" Joker slapped his knee. "You are quite literally a caveman! Did you really think you could just sit in a cave for half a millennium and expect the world wouldn't advance? By today's standards, I'm low tier... a very weak Act 2... you'd be lucky to even beat a good Act 1 in the modern age! Just face reality! You're so weak! Oh, and that Leviathan? Low-tier trash now!"

"SHUT UP!"

"You're weak,"

"Weak? Weak? You're a damn sperm compared to me!"

"Kinda gay talking about sperm, unc... maybe grandpa is a better fit than—"

"I've shown you nothing!" The old man growled.

"And keep it that way! I don't wanna see it! Just because I pantsed you doesn't mean I'm into you like that! Keep it in your pants, you damn pedo—"

"AHHHHHHHHHH—"

He gritted his teeth and exploded from the boulder, hair flowing in the wind.

"Ooooo! Finally serious? You better not disappoint me!"

"Tell me your name... Your real name! And your arcana."

"You know what? Fine!" He tipped his hat, "I'll be your introduction to the modern age! You don't have much time to live anyway. Provoke the wrong ant and you're dead."

He tipped his hat with theatrical flair.

"The name's Aleister, but you may also call me... Joker."

A pause.

The wind stilled.

"And my arcana?"

He spread his arms wide, like a ringmaster presenting the grand finale.

"The Fool."