3

It was clear the masked clowns were going to lose this fight. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and the man in the obsidian coat was a monster. Their fire was dying.

Then suddenly, a loud bang. A burst of air pressure and a cloud of dust exploded between the masked group and the enemy forces.

Cloak guy jumped back.

The dust spun and danced in the city lights. It lingered for a moment, long enough to freeze everyone in place. When it cleared—

He was there.

Right in the middle of the chaos.

The man wore a mask.

It was smooth, porcelain.It was verticaly split theatrical mask. The right side white, with a wide joyful smile. The left side was black with a downturned mouth, a sad expression. 

His clothes were just as insane.

A deep burgundy coat flowed behind him, cut high in the front but long and wing-like in the back. It moved like smoke, catching the light with streaks of midnight blue and gold embroidery. The inside of the coat shimmered with diamond patterns, shifting with every flicker of movement. On his arms, black leather sleeves folded into crimson cuffs, and his gloved hands had golden fingertips—like claws meant for tricks or traps.

Beneath the coat, a harlequin-patterned vest hugged his chest, crisscrossed with straps and tiny bells that didn’t make a sound. One pant leg was torn and tucked into a boot, the other was sleek and clean—both black, but stitched with glowing red seams. His boots were polished, heavy, yet somehow silent when he moved. They gave him this ghost-like presence, floating somewhere between dancer and demon.

If anyone could’ve seen the real faces behind the broken masks, they’d have seen them smiling.

Because he had arrived.

Their leader.

The enemy forces didn’t move.

Obsidian cloaked guy stepped forward, eyes locked on the masked man. “I take it you are their leader?”

The masked man tilted his head. Then glanced behind him, at the others slowly gathering strength again. He turned back and gave a short nod. “Their leader? Yes, I guess you could say that.”

“Then...” Cloak guy raised his hand. A black blade appeared—long, curved, humming with silent rage. He pointed it straight at the newcomer. “You must be Jester.”

The air tightened, like it didn’t want to breathe anymore.

The masked man stood still.

Then he tilted his head again, and his voice rang out.

“Ding ding ding,” he said in a playful tone. “That is... correct. Haha.” He bowed deeply, arms wide like he’d just pulled off a magic trick. “And yours?”

Cloak guy scoffed. “Hmph. Fine. It’s Death Blade. But you can call me Carl for the few minutes you have left to live.”

Jester raised his hands like he was caught shoplifting. “Whoa, easy there. We’re all buddies, right?” He turned back to his group, who were nodding awkwardly, retreating to the edge of the plaza.

Carl’s expression didn’t change. “The rumors were right. You are annoying.”

And then he was gone.

No warning. No charge-up. Just a blur.

Carl launched forward like a missile. Jester didn’t move. Not until the last millisecond—then he jumped.

But not normally.

He twisted sideways mid-air, flipping upside-down and landed with one foot on the flat side of Carl’s blade. Perfect balance. Floating like gravity didn’t apply.

Carl growled and swiped with his free hand, trying to grab Jester’s leg.

But Jester was already gone.

He backflipped off the blade, landed in a crouch, and tapped the ground twice with his fingers like he was checking the rhythm. “Ooooh! Fast.”

Carl spun and slashed. Jester ducked under it so smoothly it looked like he melted into the floor.

Another strike. Jester leaned backward like he was dodging a water balloon, the blade missing his nose by inches.

Then he kicked Carl in the chest—not hard, just annoying.

Carl slid back, boots screeching against the plaza tiles.

“I was gonna offer you a balloon,” Jester said, pulling one from inside his coat. It was red, floating unnaturally still despite the wind. “But I guess you’re.... Not that guy huh?

“Talk all you want,” he said. “I just need to kill you.”

“Yikes. Scary much?” Jester replied.

Carl exploded forward again. This time, faster. He blurred, slashed, struck, vanished, reappeared. His blade danced like a shadow possessed. He spun, leapt, kicked off walls—trying to land a single hit.

But Jester was always somewhere else.

Spinning. Twisting. Laughing.

He fought like chaos given form. He’d dodge with a somersault, roll under a strike, then appear on Carl’s back like a monkey, tapping him on the shoulder.

Once, Carl did land a graze—just a nick on the arm. The sound it made was metal-on-metal.

Jester looked down. “Oh no!"

Carl didn’t laugh. He just sent a shockwave through the ground with a stomp, causing rubble to fly. Jester flipped up on a lamppost, perched like a bird, spinning a throwing card between his fingers.

“Time out,” he said. “I have one very important question.”

Carl scowled. “What?”

“Do you......... Moisturize?” Jester said, dead serious.

Carl screamed and leapt up to strike him.

Jester dropped like a rock, kicked off the lamppost, and used Carl’s head as a springboard mid-attack.

He landed, slid backwards in a crouch, and let out a long sigh. “Okay, okay. Serious mode." He held out his hand. Three glowing cards spun into his palm, each burning with a different element—ice, lightning, and smoke.

He threw them like daggers.

Carl blocked one. The second exploded near his feet, sending ice up his legs. The third blinded him with a smoke burst.

From the smoke, Jester’s voice whispered, “What’s black, white, and bleeds all over?”

Carl turned just in time to see a blur strike from the side.

Jester hit him in the ribs with a blast of kinetic energy, sending him crashing through a parked car.

Silence followed.

Then Carl stood.

Blood on his lip.

He looked... pissed.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Round two.”

Jester grinned under his mask. “I thought we were still warming up!"

(First of all, Thank you , I've been working on this book for a month, if you've reached this part then I'm probably on the right track. I might get lost during the way, but if I ever do, comment about it and let me know. This is our story. Thank you and keep reading!)