Evil Clown Evolution [A VRMMORPG Adventure]

B2 Ch 92 - Beyond the Walls of Asfall

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The carriage finally entered Asfall, slowing as it fell in line with the other vehicles crowding the road. And the city that welcomed him was far noisier than Jester had imagined. It was not bustling in the same advanced and refined way as the capital. Asfall still carried the distinct feel of a remote city, especially since it stood in the southernmost reaches of the kingdom.

But it was still loud and packed, filled with sights, sounds, and sensations that gave it a character of its own.

The streets were packed, vendors shouting over one another. Every building he passed looked like it had actually been finished, not slapped together out of desperation the way half of Necroton still was. Stone facades. Proper roofing. Even the gutters looked like someone had planned them on purpose.

He glanced sideways at a group of players crossing the street ahead of him, their armor catching the afternoon light in a way that made his own clown outfit seem like it belonged in a bargain bin. Full sets, the kind of gear that took serious coin or countless hours of grinding to put together.

“Everyone here looks like they mean business,” he said.

Shade glanced at the players passing by. “Most of them are armed like they’re expecting trouble.”

“They probably are. Most of them are high-level players,” Jester replied. “Their lives are basically nothing but grinding. Leveling up and competing against each other.”

Though that description did not entirely fit people like those in the Vesperion Guild. Besides hunting, they also used their abilities and the resources available to them to level up in smarter, more efficient ways.

Much like how they were now trying to involve themselves in the struggle over who would claim the position of the next Saintess.

They continued deeper into the city until they finally found a place to stay for however long their business in Asfall lasted. It was an inn that looked nothing special, tucked away in a quieter area near the inner edge of the city, standing only three stories tall.

When Jester asked about lodging, there was only one room left. So, in the end, the three of them had no choice but to share the same modest room, which came with a single bed pushed against the wall.

“You could’ve picked somewhere a little more comfortable, Your Highness,” Shade said, looking around the room.

“We’re not exactly here for a relaxing vacation,” Jester replied.

Michel looked at the bed, then at Jester, and finally at Shade.

“So... are the three of us sleeping together tonight?”

“No.” Jester answered almost immediately. “There was only one room left. That’s the only reason we’re all in here.”

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping next to you, Your Highness,” Shade said calmly. “Just so you know.”

“I can turn into a bed,” Michel quickly offered. “Then you can sleep right on top of me. I promise I’ll be comfortable.”

Jester slowly closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose.

“You two are unbelievable.”

Neither of them looked even slightly ashamed. If anything, Michel seemed rather pleased with her solution.

“It’s fine,” Jester said. “You two can figure it out. Take turns, share it, fight over it, whatever works. I can just log out when I actually need to sleep, remember? I don’t need the bed.”

Michel studied him for a moment.

“You said the same thing at first about sitting on my body. But you ended up spending the whole trip on top of me, and you seemed perfectly comfortable.”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Jester said. “Anyone overhearing you is going to get the completely wrong idea.”

“But I mean it literally.”

“That somehow makes it worse.”

Jester could only sigh, while Shade let out a quiet laugh beside him.

Michel pouted, which on her looked less like disappointment and more like she was filing the rejection away to bring up again later. Shade simply shrugged and drifted back toward the corner of the room, letting the shadows swallow half her form again like she was testing how dark the room would get once night fully settled in.

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Jester sat on the edge of the bed anyway, just to have somewhere to put himself while he waited for the hour to change.

Night came faster than he expected.

By the time the sky outside the window had gone properly dark, Jester slipped out of the room with his hood pulled low. Michel had already reshaped herself into the cloak draped over his shoulders. Shade simply melted into full shadow the moment they stepped outside, invisible against the night the way she always was once the sun went down.

The streets hadn't quieted at all. If anything, they felt busier than during the day, except the mood had shifted into something sharper, more urgent. Players moved in tight clusters, weapons already strapped on, voices low and clipped instead of the relaxed chatter from earlier.

"...campaign's tonight, they're saying..."

"...finally found the last base, and some scouting party located it two days ago..."

"...if this goes well, we clear out all the demon outposts in one push..."

"...heard Yuya's joining the campaign too..."

Jester slowed his pace, letting a few groups pass close enough to catch more of the conversation. Every single player he could get a good look at carried themselves like they belonged well past level 150. The kind of players who didn't need to worry about dying somewhere inconvenient.

A full campaign against the demon outposts. That's a lot bigger than I expected.

He followed the general flow of the crowd, curiosity pulling him along more than any actual plan. Eventually the streets funneled into something like a central plaza, one wide enough to swallow the hundreds of players now packed shoulder to shoulder inside it. Crystal lamps lined the perimeter, and near the front, standing on a raised platform where everyone could see her, was the reason half the city seemed to be here.

Red hair pulled back in a tight tie. Fitted armor that looked built for movement rather than show. Sharp eyes scanning the crowd like she was already counting how many of them would still be standing tomorrow night.

It was Rania.

So the second princess personally runs these campaigns.

Jester drifted closer, weaving between shoulders, trying to catch whatever she was about to say. He didn't even make it another ten steps before a hand shoved into his chest.

“Hey. This isn’t a place for a clown.”

The player blocking his path wore a smug grin. A couple of others nearby turned at the comment, and the laughter started almost immediately once they caught sight of Jester’s costume beneath the hood.

“Seriously, what is that? Did he wander in from some festival event?”

“Bro, get lost. This is a level 150 campaign briefing, not a circus.”

Jester kept his expression perfectly calm. Then a wide grin slowly spread across his face. Without saying anything, he reached into his clothes, pulled out three colorful juggling balls, and casually tossed them into the air.

“Oh, forgive me,” Jester said. “I saw all these long faces and thought someone had called for professional help.”

A few of the players stopped laughing.

“What?”

“I mean, look at you. Level 150 and still grinding for a sense of humor. That sounds exhausting.”

“You think you’re funny?”

“I would hope so.” Jester caught all three balls in one hand and gave him an exaggerated little bow. “Imagine dressing like this and still being less ridiculous than you.”

That earned another laugh, this time from someone in the crowd.

Jester decided that was enough. He slipped the balls away and left before the exchange turned into something more troublesome. Wearing the clown outfit really did make blending in almost impossible. It worked well enough for hiding his identity, but among players like these, it attracted attention for an entirely different reason.

He needed a different appearance. More specifically, he needed a new mask.

With that in mind, Jester turned back the way he had come. This time, he took a side street, leaving the busier roads behind as the buildings gradually thinned out and the streets grew quieter near the edge of the city.

From there, it was not difficult to find a section of the wall where nobody was paying much attention. A stack of wooden crates had been carelessly left near its base, providing him with a convenient way up.

Jester climbed onto them, hauled himself over the top, then dropped down onto the other side without much trouble.

Beyond the walls, open plains stretched into the distance, dark and quiet compared to the noise he had just left behind.

“Fang, come out.”

A shape came bounding out of the darkness only a few seconds later, and Fang emerged from the shadows before him, the massive wolf coming to a stop at Jester’s side.

Jester climbed onto the wolf’s back and settled himself comfortably. “We’ll wander around and check things out ourselves. Sounds more fun than following those cowardly players around anyway.”

“All right, boy. Let’s go.”

Fang immediately took off, his paws pounding against the earth as he shot across the open plains. The walls of Asfall quickly began to shrink behind them, and before long, the noise of the city had faded entirely beneath the rush of wind.

Some time later, a shape began peeling itself out of the shadow trailing alongside them. Darkness gathered and gradually took form until Shade emerged from it, casually settling onto Fang’s back behind Jester as though she had been riding there the entire time.

“I have a general direction,” she said. “The demon presence those players were discussing. I picked up enough from listening to them before we left.”

“Good. Lead the way.”

Shade raised a hand and pointed toward the distant horizon. Fang immediately shifted course, needing no further instruction as he carried them deeper into the plains.

They rode for what felt like a long while, the plains eventually giving way to a forest with trees spaced out unusually far apart, thin enough that moonlight still managed to filter down between the branches.

Eventually the trees broke apart entirely, opening onto a wide stretch of land that looked like it had been drained of everything it once had. The ground was cracked and dry, stretching out far into the distance under a sky that felt somehow darker here than it had anywhere else.

Fang slowed to a stop at the edge of it, ears pressed back, a low sound building somewhere in his throat.

Jester slid off his back, boots crunching against the dead ground.

"This place feels wrong."

"It is," Shade said quietly, stepping up beside him. "The demons have already taken over this area."

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