Chapter 189
There exists one absolute condition for low-level players to defeat the Mad Jester:
**You must not take any damage.**
The enemy is a debuff attacker who constantly inflicts status ailments.
"Haaaah..."
At low levels, suffering higher-tier status effects would undoubtedly be fatal—it wouldn't be him lying dead on the ground, but me.
"I can't take this anymore. Why do I keep getting saddled with these insane challenge runs?"
I might have acted composed, but I'm no death game survivor. I was just an ordinary gamer who happened to play seriously among hardcore players.
A normal person would leave such dangerous tasks to others and pretend not to know.
Even if you have the strength, you don't throw your life away recklessly.
"I've had enough. Before the next calamity arrives, I absolutely must secure a safety margin. That's non-negotiable."
Back when I first arrived in this world, danger was always at my doorstep. I fondly remember the early days when I played it safe to gain strength.
What was the point of all this? Defeating the Crawling Dragon at low level, intercepting the Stampede, taking down the Twin Storm Drakes underleveled, challenging the Locust General with just one party, and now having to solo this lunatic one-on-one?
"This is insane, right? I'm just a kid—well, a guy who happens to be a little more into games than most people!"
I muttered to myself, but this was a form of self-soothing. Just moments ago, I was in a life-or-death battle.
And not against a monster—against a person.
Unlike the Crawling Dragon or Storm Drakes, this was someone who spoke, who hurled emotions at me.
During my gaming days, I'd fought countless PvP battles and defeated humanoid avatars many times.
But in reality, I'd never killed a person before.
I held no affection for the Mad Jester. Disgust outweighed everything else.
My desire to save His Grace and Lady Esmeralda was genuine.
But in my recklessness, I ended up killing someone.
My emotions, my rationality, my resolve, and my actions—my mind couldn't keep up with the aftermath.
For a moment, I wondered if I regretted it, but I quickly dismissed that thought.
Yet, my body felt drained, as if all strength had left me.
"......"
I slumped to the ground.
Had the tension finally snapped?
Maybe so. I was more exhausted than after defeating the Storm Drake.
"?"
Then, an earth-shattering noise erupted.
Not just once or twice—but over and over, like something being smashed apart.
"Liberta!!"
Following the sound, hurried footsteps of soldiers approached, and someone called my name.
"Blood!?" "Don't worry, it's just his blood splattered on me."
It was Lady Esmeralda who rushed over.
Seeing me sitting there motionless, she grabbed my hands in a panic, her pristine dress staining red as she checked me for injuries without hesitation.
Just moments ago, I'd felt a chill, but now warmth slowly returned—whether from embarrassment or some subconscious craving for comfort after what I'd done.
"What was that noise just now?" "Lady Claudia and Nel worked together to break the barrier. Father is receiving treatment now, but I was worried about you, so I came."
The sudden commotion eased the near-melancholic confusion weighing on me.
Ah... it's nice to have someone who cares.
"I see. There were soldiers along the way—what about them?" "...The two of them have been treated. They lost too much blood and were in critical condition, but they'll recover with rest. But..."
The soldiers kept watch while Lady Esmeralda checked me over, relieved to find no wounds. But when I asked about the soldiers I'd encountered earlier, her expression darkened slightly.
"I see."
Some were saved. Others weren't.
Her hesitation told me enough.
"Their loyalty must be repaid. As those entrusted with lives, we will do everything we can."
And the word "death" weighed heavily on me now.
The warmth I'd felt moments ago rapidly cooled.
Ah... so these are the emotions after killing someone.
Beyond guilt lies something else—not self-blame, but a relentless questioning: *Was this really the right choice?*
Even if I convinced myself it was necessary, doubt gnawed at me.
If this feeling lasted forever, I might truly go mad.
"Of course, that includes you." "Huh?"
Just as negative thoughts threatened to consume me—
She embraced me.
"I am truly grateful to you. You saved Father and me, and even the lives of those soldiers."
It took me seconds to process her words.
"And... I'm sorry. We made you endure something so painful."
Her apology only deepened my confusion.
"I won't make excuses about our weakness. Our weakness is what forced your hands to be stained with blood. Our weakness is what sent you into that battle."
I wanted to argue, but the weight of what I'd done left me speechless.
I'd acted recklessly out of a desperate desire to help—that was all.
"You bear no sin. The sin is ours. You acted only out of kindness to save us."
But I wanted an excuse.
In truth, I should have declared, *This was my choice.*
No matter how I rationalized it, I had believed it necessary at the time.
I understood that killing the Mad Jester was the outcome, and I had imagined this conclusion.
So I *should* have rejected her words.
I *should* have.
"Thank you for saving us, Liberta."
But I couldn't bring myself to deny her gratitude.
Killing is evil.
That remains true in this world as well.
But unlike Japan—
Destroying evil is considered righteous here.
Indiscriminate killing is still condemned.
But killing those who threaten lives is praised.
Ah... somehow, it feels like a misaligned gear has finally clicked into place.
I *knew* this.
I *understood* it.
But I hadn't *felt* it until now.
Killing monsters and killing people—
The former never stirred these emotions, as monsters lacked mutual understanding.
The latter... I'd vaguely assumed I'd have to do it eventually, kept postponing the thought.
This isn't Japan.
This is another world.
I can't impose Japanese common sense here.
Not that it's impossible, but here, it would be seen as idealism or outright foolishness—hence why I'm told to take up arms.
How ironic.
That a simple "thank you" could align my perception with reality.
"You're welcome."
Though my feelings were complicated, my heart had settled enough to swallow them.
When I finally replied, Lady Esmeralda pulled back slightly.
"Good. You seem a little better now."
Her words made me realize—I must have looked awful.
"Was my face that bad?" "Yes, absolutely. When I found you, you were deathly pale. I thought you might have been poisoned and paralyzed!"
In a way, I *had* been poisoned—mentally.
I considered cracking a dark joke about losing my "murderginity," but while the soldiers might appreciate it, I couldn't say something like that to a noble lady.
"Liberta!!" "Liberta!? Are you okay!?" "Lord Liberta!"
If Lady Esmeralda was here, Nel and the others couldn't be far behind. Their voices soon rang out as they sprinted toward me.
"Uh, this is a bit..." "Ah, right."
Being hugged in front of everyone was awkward, so I asked her to let go.
(Was that a hint of disappointment? Probably my imagination.)
I tried to stand—
"Whoa!?" "You're completely exhausted!"
I nearly collapsed.
A life-and-death battle really saps your stamina, huh?
Some things you don’t realize until you experience them.
In the end, I couldn't stand without support, leaving me no choice but to lean on her as the others arrived.
"Liberta!? Blood—so much blood—" "Eek!? Wh-wh-what do we do!?" "First, stop the bleeding!?"
Drenched in blood, barely able to walk, I saw their panicked faces—and laughed.
"It's fine, it's fine. All of this is just his blood. Man, I'm exhausted today."
Physically, sure, but mentally, today had drained me.
If I lay down now, I'd sleep straight through till morning.
"More than anything, I want to wash this blood off."
Walking was a chore, but I couldn't stand the thought of keeping this blood on me.
Call it a desperate need for a bath.
Leaving the Mad Jester's blood on me felt like inviting a curse, so I requested one.
"Then, if I may, I shall wash your back." "No, I can bathe alone—" "No!! You're swaying on your feet! I'll help!" "Me too!!"
I'd planned to manage on my own, but seeing my state, they insisted.
And honestly? I *would* probably pass out in the tub.
I might even drown—what a pathetic end after defeating the Mad Jester.
Their concern was genuine, so maybe accepting help wouldn't be so bad.
"In that case, *I* shall wash you!" "Uh, no, absolutely not!?"
But then, an unexpected ambush.
A noble lady washing me?
That’s a hard no.
"Is that a no?" "My lady, we're busy cleaning up here. We didn’t see anything!!" "So it seems." "Do your damn jobs as guards!! That’s dereliction of duty!?"
Normally, the guards would intervene, but instead, they gave me a thumbs-up—*We see nothing!*
This is a honey trap to tie me to the ducal house, isn’t it!?
"Rest assured, we will properly collect and examine the criminal’s remains—as is our duty!!" "That’s not the issue!! I’m a man! She’s a noblewoman! Unmarried nobles can’t bathe together!?"
Just moments ago, this was a serious moment. Now, one sentence turned it into pure comedy.
I should have been brooding over my first kill, but here I was, energetically firing off retorts.
Normally, this is where I’d snap, *Leave me alone!?* and drive a wedge between us, right?
"It’s fine!! We didn’t see anything!!" "You’re all hopeless!?"
No time to wallow.
Maybe they’re doing this on purpose to cheer me up.
With that in mind, I mustered my willpower, fought off my drowsiness, and resolved to bathe alone—without anyone’s help.