A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Because he understood that he was now fighting Bray, the clown in the circus, who was finally going to fight someone else.

"when!"

The sounds of clashing weapons were incessant, and the background music gradually became unbearable for Bray.

“You still talk as much as ever,” Bray said calmly, slicing through the bullet in front of him.

Is Jonathan strong? He's quite strong.

However, compared to the demigod master and some of the powerful enemies Bray had faced, Jonathan's combat strength was mediocre.

Bray, who has just become an adventurer, probably can't beat Jonathan no matter what.

However, Jonathan is no longer a good match for us.

Although he wasn't strong, he was never easy to kill.

Just like now, even though Bray's combat strength is superior to Jonathan's, he still cannot inflict a fatal wound on his opponent.

Jonathan, who is well aware of his own fighting abilities, never puts himself in battle.

But at this moment, in this place, Jonathan was bracing himself to fight Bray.

Bray could tell that the Joker was going all out against him.

He laughs heartily, yet he's more persistent than anyone else.

After all these years, Bray has finally begun to see the Joker more clearly.

The Joker also has something he's obsessed with: "reincarnation."

Even after reincarnating for too long and going mad, he still has his own obsessions.

Just as Bray did not want to be a monastic, Jonathan did not want to be a reincarnator.

It was merely a coincidence, and this Chaha was far from pleasant.

"Sizzle sizzle sizzle—" The weapons rubbed against each other, making an unpleasant sound.

Jonathan's mask pressed against Bray's forehead, his cane and sword intertwined.

The previously dizzyingly fast pace of the battle instantly slowed down.

It wasn't just a change of scenery; it was a complete halt.

The two simply kept increasing the force on their weapons without moving their positions.

But to others, the whole scene seemed to be constantly spinning.

The world seems to be revolving around this stage at this moment.

Will-o'-the-wisps were lit on the stage, blocking all paths away from the stage.

However, neither of them seems to intend to leave before the battle ends.

"Clang!" With a slightly abrupt sound, the two separated and stood at opposite ends of the stage.

"I believe I have a clear goal."

“But, Mr. Monk, what is your goal?” Jonathan walked step by step toward Bray, smiling as he spoke.

The mask was showing signs of breaking, and twisted ghosts were squeezing out of the cracks, as if they were about to devour the lives of everyone around.

But Jonathan paid no attention to the ghost that appeared on the mask, and casually raised his cane, wrinkling his nose.

"Target?" Bray raised an eyebrow slightly.

As for goals, it seems like I have them, but it also seems like I don't.

If I had to say—

“Let the world at least allow people to sleep peacefully,” Bray said.

The person you're talking about is a dead person.

“…” Bray did not answer, but silently looked at Jonathan.

"Hahaha, sorry, I shouldn't have said such things." The Joker seemed to notice that Bray's eyes had darkened considerably, so he said.

"No need to apologize, you didn't say anything wrong."

"Really? Don't apologize! Mr. Ring-Holder is such a nice person!" Jonathan was so happy that he couldn't help but dance.

"The smaller the goal, the better, right?"

"Thinking about destroying the world or saving the world is too big and too far-fetched," the clown said, adopting a teacher's demeanor.

"Is it because of pent-up anger that you want to destroy the world? If so, then everyone has had the thought of destroying the world to some extent."

"So you're planning to save the world because you care about the world? Well, that makes sense, doesn't it?"

Jonathan was spouting incoherent words, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

"It doesn't matter what happens," Bray said, raising his longsword to head level.

Pale blue, almost transparent internal energy flowed from the engravings on the sword.

As the internal energy flowed to its final stage, it transformed into an inky black color.

"Phew—" Bray let out a breath.

It doesn't matter how much more you say.

Given the current situation, what's the point of spouting grand principles?

Besides, Bray had realized more than once that it was impossible for people to understand each other.

It's really difficult for me to understand Jonathan.

Putting yourself in someone else's shoes is an extremely difficult thing, because even if you do put yourself in their shoes, your thoughts will not be the same.

What I need to do is very simple: swing my sword.

What Jonathan had to do was simple: stop himself.

See? In fact, many times things are quite simple in essence, as long as people don't complicate them.

"Eighteen Styles" in a Flash

In a flash, Bray and Jonathan passed each other.

This sword strike shattered Jonathan's emergency Aragami and tore through all his defenses.

The well-maintained tuxedo was suddenly torn apart by a lazy waist.

The cane flew out of Jonathan's hand and landed straight on the stage.

A clean and decisive sword strike.

"Hahaha, no good." Jonathan's laughter rang out as the cold light of the blade dissipated.

That hearty laughter was completely unlike what a murdered person would make.

"I have been trying to be like you, Mr. Monk, to uphold my identity as a normal person."

"But it was indeed too difficult."

"How can one keep going when they are about to die?"

Bray has always considered himself a "human being".

To be honest, Jonathan had no idea what the "person" Bray was talking about actually was.

Does it refer to a lower species? Or to a creature with humanity?

But based on Jonathan's past observations of Bray, it seems that neither is true.

Even after reincarnating so many times and meeting so many people, I still don't understand Bray.

Since you don't understand it, just put all the complexities aside.

Let's just say it refers to one's own "identity" and "humanity".

Jonathan has always tried to be like Bray, remaining true to himself under any circumstances.

It remains unchanged from the inside out.

But this seemingly simple thing is actually very difficult.

Jonathan was very curious about how Bray managed to stick to this inexplicable principle.

When a person is about to die, about to lose everything, all they need to do is abandon themselves and become a monster to regain everything—

The obvious choice is to become a monster, because if things continue like this, nothing will be left.

Even if one is still considered a human being, one can still lose one's life, or even something more important.

Therefore, seizing power is the most reasonable answer.

Bray, however, never did that, even when he was on the verge of death.

“Oh dear, I sincerely admire you, sir, the one who upholds the precepts.”

As the clown was cleaved in two, he spoke to Bray with admiration, dissipating into black mist and being drawn into the mask.

Then, four enormous arms emerged from the crack in the mask.

The jet-black arm was made of pure concept, and that concept was death controlled by "Lord of the Underworld, Dizoka".

"After all, anyone in a desperate situation would choose to use everything they can."

“People like you, Mr. Ring-Bearer, who have the most perfect power right beside them but never use it—that’s rare.” Jonathan’s voice came from “inside” the mask.

The audience continued to applaud, as if this were some important plot development.

As the mask ripped completely apart, a huge black figure in a tuxedo stepped onto the stage.

His lower body was shrouded in black mist, but it was empty.

The upper body has four arms, two of which are in the normal position.

The other two arms extend from the shoulders and are unusually large, three times the size of the main body's arms.

The Joker is still the Joker, and his mask remains unchanged.

It's that mask with an exaggerated smile, laughing day and night.

The faces of each audience member below the stage were no longer blurred, but instead they wore clown masks of various shapes and sizes.

The applause was deafening; every audience member below the stage was cheering and jumping for joy at Jonathan's new look.

"What a pity, what a real pity, it seems I have failed in my challenge."

"That kind of will to never give up one's 'identity' even in death seems to be something only you deserve."

Jonathan spread his arms wide and shouted.

Although she was wearing a tuxedo, her bulky figure was far from elegant.

Aragami? No.

Humans? No, not really.

At this moment, Jonathan is a being who "borrows" the power of the Gold Seed, just like the Deathbringer before.

“That’s exactly why you’ve always been so interesting to me,” the clown said, clasping his hands together on his shoulders.

The moment they clasped their hands together, countless black spheres fell from above.

A different concept is compressed within the black ball, which is then randomly smashed downwards.

The dense barrage of attacks completely blocked any possible movement options for Bray.

"This is a concept bullet specially made for you, sir, the one who upholds the precepts."

"Please accept this."

Jonathan's voice was still the same, but his body had long been consumed by the power of the mask.

But it doesn't matter, Jonathan isn't worried about being controlled by Dizoka.

He is Jonathan, and there are countless "him"s, but he is who he is.

It cannot be controlled or changed.

“I have always nominally held the title of the god’s agent.”

"It seems it's time to do something practical." The clown's voice gradually lowered.