Saint Jest.
It was a name he hadn't heard before, but it wasn't too hard to figure out who he was. Someone like this was undoubtedly a member of a Great Clan, perhaps even one of its highest powers.
And based on his animosity, it was likely that he belonged to the Clan that was the most opposed with Song, who Gehrman had dealt with.
The only other Great Clan with a Supreme Human at its helm.
Clan Valor.
If Gehrman were to guess, this old man was likely an executioner of sorts, or perhaps an assassin. Someone at his age would have been among the first humans to be infected with the Nightmare Spell, and the fact that he survived a century later was a testament to his abilities. He was older than Cor, who was somewhere between the First Generation that Jest belonged to and the Second Generation that was headed by Ki Song and Anvil of Valor.
People of those older generations had seen the fall of North America, the advancement of the first Master, and later, the first Saint…and a select few even knew about the first humans to become Supremes.
All of this ran through Gehrman's head, making him almost forget the fact that Jest had used his actual name to address him.
He didn't let it rattle him. He would be surprised if Valor didn't have spies who tracked every individual entering and exiting the Jade Palace of Song. And if someone like Caiman could get access to the Government's file on him, it would be a cakewalk for a Great Clan.
"Nice to meet you," Gehrman said. "It is odd, but I believe you might be the first person I've met in this world who is as old as me."
Jest let out a chuckle.
"Indeed, there are not many of the First Generation left; they were all…ripped to pieces somewhere along the line."
Gehrman made no move to respond to the morbid comment, and so the Transcendent continued.
"Well, if you truly are as aged as you say you are, I must give you credit for still having such a look in your eye. I can see in you a certain confidence, not just in yourself, but in others."
Gehrman sighed.
"What business do you have with me?"
Jest seemed to ponder this a bit, lightly tapping his black cane against the fractured ground.
"Hmmm, let me ask you this instead: what business do you have with the Queen of Worms?"
Gehrman blinked in surprise. It took him a moment to realize he was referring to the Raven Queen, the ruler of Raven Heart.
"Ki Song? I suppose it's a sort of alliance. I was told not to disclose the details though, so perhaps you could make it clear what will cause you to threaten my Workshop's well-being."
"Any alliance with that fiend is enough," Jest said coolly. "That thing isn't human, and any help you give her is expediting the extinction of the human race."
"Strong words for a middle aged woman. She's unsettling, grotesque, but just as human as us," Gehrman's mouth twisted as a smile formed. "In fact, isn't it those very things that make us human?"
Jest eyes narrowed then, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped his cane tightly. Gehrman had to resist the urge to dash to backward as his bloodlust assaulted all his senses.
"You met it?" the old man asked in a low voice, still referring to Ki Song as an "it".
"...Briefly."
The Transcendent's muscles seemed to ripple beneath his seemingly mundane robes. He appeared to be doing his best to hold back as well, and that fact caused Gehrman's heart to pound like crazy.
"That is disheartening to hear. I'm afraid there is little option but to give you a hard choice." Jest's glare became threateningly cold. "Swear allegiance to the Great Clan Valor, or die."
Gehrman paled slightly, but did not cower. Instead, he stood silently for a long while. He drew out the pause as much as possible.
Eventually, he felt Jest reaching his tipping point. Gehrman had to speak then.
"Why such a mandate? I thought you would simply make me swear to neutrality, or at most try to commandeer my Workshop."
"That was before I learned that you had come into contact with it. The Queen of Worms is a vile fiend who spreads like a disease, and her blood is the catalyst. Unless you enter into the service of the king, you will soon find yourself a mindless corpse."
Gehrman allowed himself a moment of fear, but then he allowed ease to take over him, and he gave a leisurely smile.
"Although she is Supreme, and I myself am a meagre Ascended. I can assure you that such a thing isn't possible… my Soul and my constitution is unique, after all."
Jest twitched once, more at the word "Supreme". He now appeared to be an anxious mess. But Gehrman could see through the performance. The man was calculating, constantly adjusting to each word Gehrman offered.
"I assure you, if Ki Song were to try to make such a move, I would sooner die than let myself be used. And if she were sloppy enough to leave me alive after such an effort…" Gehrman allowed a burst of Madness, this time the mysterious, and harrowing final type of Madness from the Titan Core.
For the first time, Jest's countenance genuinely cracked.
Even Gehrman could not yet describe the most recent type of Madness that had thoroughly broken him during the end of his 2nd Nightmare.
It was…ineffiable.
It was perhaps the same type of Madness that made up the Great Ones. And Jest, as an experienced warrior, knew immediately to fear it.
"Ki Song, like anyone who would oppose me, would feel her soul and essence ripped apart."
Jest's eyes did something strange. His pupils reshaped into something otherworldly, an odd oval shape similar to that of a goat's.
A chill ran down Gehrman's spine as he realized what this was.
Saint Jest's Transformation Ability.
It was nowhere near fully manifested, but even this alone was frightening. Gehrman felt his emotions start to turn wild. The fear he felt toward this being started to claw upward, devouring everything else he felt…but then it was viciously and brutally silenced.
On another plane of existence the Madness of the Titan Core throbbed and there was suddenly an all encompassing that made all emotions pointless and nonexistent.
Even Gehrman was surprised by this development. But instead of showing it in any noticeable way, something eerie took place…he stopped breathing.
He was not holding his breath, instead, Gehrman felt the Madness writhing inside him start to grapple with his physical form, distancing his avatar from the physical realm.
As a result he underwent a subtle transformation, the only indication of it was the ring of yellowish-orange madness multiplied several times over taking over the whites of his eyes completely.
…For the first time in decades, a single drop of sweat dripped down Saint Jest's forehead.
"Hey now, are you still in there Mr. Gehrman?" Jest let out a nervous chuckle.
Gehrman did not respond for a long while. Dimly, he was grappling with keeping his thoughts intact, but also extending this silence as long as possible.
He just needed to wait until…
Gehrman felt it a mere second before Jest did– a low flying aircraft from the Government. It was a shipping vehicle, one that Gehrman had called in mere seconds after the Gate Guardian was slain.
This was protocol, and it allowed for the quick pick up of Nightmare Creature corpses and Soul Shards. And it was also Gehrman's saving grace.
Soon, numerous Awakened would pour out of the large vehicle. Awakened who could all act as witnesses to any crime.
Though Saints were above the law in the vast majority of cases, Gehrman was willing to bet that Jest would not kill him right in front of a crowd of Awakened. Even if he were to slaughter all the witnesses, he must have realized by now that killing Gehrman would take longer than he had anticipated, and their clash would undoubtedly cause a great stir.
So the calculating old man took a step back. His eyes returning to normal and his joking smile returning.
"Ha! I've been played for a fool it seems," the old man turned to walk off.
But Gehrman knew better than that. As soon as Jest had kept him from leaving, Gehrman became sure of one thing: Caiman was not the one pulling the strings in this whole debacle.
That guy who was shrewd beyond belief may not have been the most informed when it came to Awakened, but he surely could tell something was off with the New Workshop. The fact that he went through with it anyway meant that he must have received powerful backing.
And since the one who showed up was from Valor…
"Saint Jest," Gehrman called out. The old man stopped in his tracks, but he did not look over his shoulder. "You should know that the dealings I made with Clan Song were in regards to trade. But the vast majority of my designs and knowledge is not limited to Song. Only the matters going down in my Citadel are under her jurisdiction…so please, next time just send a representative. I would be more than happy to help the warriors of Valor become a more efficient force against Nightmare Creatures."
Saint Jest was silent and still for a long moment, but then he let out a hearty cackle.
He made no other comment, but Gehrman was of the opinion that the lack of mirth in his laugh was a good sign.
A few seconds later the Saint had disappeared, no trace of him remained.
It was only when the Awakened started pouring out of the transport that Gehrman remembered something that had slipped his mind.
There were 50 unconscious Awakened mercenaries strewn about.
Gehrman's eyes turned to Malcolm, he appeared to have passed out somewhere along the line. Judging from the fact Jest didn't kill him, it was more than likely that he hadn't been awake to hear the conversation.
"M-master Gehrman," an Awakened man, came up to him, his voice shaky. "Are these unconscious Awakened the ones who responded to the alert?"
Though this crew were rarely composed when they arrived on a scene Gehrman personally left behind, the dozens of bodies seemed to have upset them more than usual.
"Actually," Gehrman sighed. "They were mercenaries trying to kill me," he paused and enjoyed the Government Awakened's wide eyed glance. Then a bright, mad smile returned to Gehrman's face. "So if you don't mind, call in another transport for all these goons. I'll be taking them to the New Workshop. Once we are there, I will personally rehabilitate them."