Ch 60 - The Golden Chief

Perfect Assimilation was truly an absurdly overpowered skill. Sure, its grade was Legendary, but honestly, this skill had far greater potential than anyone could have imagined.

Just think about it. Jester, who was still only around level forty, could borrow the complete attribute stats of someone as powerful as Lucia. On top of that, he could even borrow one of her classes. And this was no ordinary class, but the Legendary Class, Royal Sword Saint.

Of course, the cost of activating this skill was unbelievably brutal. It consumed 90% of his total Mana and 70% of his total Stamina.

Mana could slowly recover over time, and it could also be restored with Mana Potions. That was exactly what Jester relied on to cover the Mana cost of the skills he used throughout the battle.

Stamina, however, was a completely different story. Unlike Mana, it could not simply be restored by drinking a potion. It was a limited resource that only recovered through rest or over time.

What made it even harsher was that the cost was based on a percentage of his total resources. So if Jester was not in perfect condition, for example if he only had 80% Stamina left, activating Perfect Assimilation alone would immediately reduce him to just 10% Stamina.

That was an incredibly dangerous price to pay. Using the Royal Sword Saint's abilities while fighting in a battle of this level drained his Stamina at an unbelievable rate.

To make matters even worse, Jester was doing all of this while wearing the Harvest Mask.

Because of that, the burden became far too much. Perfect Assimilation was forcibly deactivated before its full duration had even expired. Even worse, the Harvest Mask also shut down immediately afterward, right after he managed to win the Rite of Challenge.

At that moment, Jester was standing once again in his Evil Clown form, facing Goruk. Even while kneeling, Goruk still towered over Jester, who was standing right in front of him. There was nothing strange about that. The monster was nearly three and a half meters tall.

Jester stood silently, his gaze fixed on Goruk's face. The giant Bullkin stared back with a stunned expression, as if he could not understand why the figure before him was no longer Snuk, but someone else entirely. Even so, Goruk did not say a single word.

The other Bullkin, however, reacted very differently.

Many of those who had been kneeling slowly rose to their feet. Not all of them, but more than enough to fill the open ground with heavy footsteps. Some walked forward cautiously, while others charged over in a rush.

Before long, they had formed a loose circle around Jester, trapping him in the center.

"What the hell happened here?!" one of them roared. "Why is there some worthless human player standing there instead of Snuk?! Where is he?! Answer me! Don't just stand there acting like you've done nothing!"

Another Bullkin stepped forward, pointing a thick finger directly at Jester.

"We've been tricked!" he shouted furiously. "That bastard was never Snuk! He disguised himself this whole time! This human deceived every single one of us and walked right into our sacred Rite of Challenge! This insult cannot be forgiven! This disgrace cannot be allowed to stand!"

A third Bullkin slammed the blade of his massive greatsword against the ground, sending dust flying into the air.

"Then let's kill him right here!" he bellowed. "Just look at him! He's completely drained! He barely has any Mana left, and judging by the way he's standing, his Stamina isn't much better! Look at that tiny body! There's no way someone like him can fight us anymore! One swing is all it'll take to tear him apart!"

The surrounding Bullkin erupted into furious shouts. Their weapons were raised, killing intent spreading through the crowd. Every pair of eyes was locked onto Jester with naked hostility.

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Yet Jester remained exactly where he was. His attention never even shifted away from Goruk.

A moment later, Jester slowly turned around. He deliberately gave Goruk his back, as though the defeated giant no longer deserved another glance.

Then he slightly raised his head. Even though his height was nowhere near enough to meet the Bullkin's eyes directly, the cold look in his eyes was unmistakable. Several Bullkin closest to him instinctively stiffened the moment that gaze swept across them.

"I don't remember there ever being a rule stating that only a Bullkin could participate in the Rite of Challenge," Jester said calmly. "A loss is still a loss, no matter how desperately you try to deny it. If your so-called strongest warrior could be defeated by an outsider, then all it proves is how weak your tribe has become."

His eyes slowly swept across every furious face surrounding him.

"You've spent your lives clinging to pride while accomplishing nothing. Strength without results is meaningless. A tribe that cannot protect its own future has already begun to rot from within."

His lips curved into a faint smile.

"That is why I came here. To drag this tribe toward a future far greater than the pathetic existence you've been protecting."

His voice became even colder.

"So..."

"Kneel."

"Every single one of you."

The entire area fell silent for only a heartbeat. Then the Bullkin exploded in rage.

"You arrogant little bastard!"

One of the warriors could no longer hold himself back. With a furious roar, he ripped his enormous greatsword from the ground and launched himself toward Jester at terrifying speed.

"You're right about one thing!" he bellowed. "There was never a rule saying only Bullkin could fight in the Rite! But there sure as hell isn't a rule saying we have to let a filthy human live afterward!"

The gigantic greatsword howled through the air, aimed directly at Jester's head.

Clang!

A deafening metallic explosion echoed across the battlefield.

The blade stopped less than an inch from Jester's hair, frozen completely in place as though an invisible wall had blocked its path.

[Your authority as the new Tribe Chief of the Ironhorn Bullkin Tribe has been recognized.]

[Members of the tribe cannot intentionally harm their acknowledged Tribe Chief.]

For a brief moment, complete silence filled the battlefield.

Jester's smile slowly deepened.

The Bullkin warrior's arm trembled as he desperately tried to force his greatsword forward, while the others looked just as eager to attack.

Then, a massive shadow suddenly fell over Jester from behind.

Even without turning around, Jester already knew what had happened.

Goruk had risen to his feet. His enormous frame stood directly behind Jester, towering over him like an unshakable mountain. Yet Jester did not so much as glance back. He remained standing calmly, completely undisturbed.

"Enough."

Goruk's deep voice echoed across the area, instantly silencing the surrounding Bullkin.

"The sacred rules remain sacred rules. A defeat is still a defeat," he said firmly. "As the one who lost this Rite of Challenge, I will not let my pride sink any lower by denying the outcome or breaking the traditions of our ancestors."

His gaze slowly swept across every Bullkin present.

"I, Goruk, former Tribe Chief of the Ironhorn Tribe, acknowledge my defeat. I hereby surrender the title of Tribe Chief to the victor of the Rite of Challenge. From this day forward, my strength, my axe, and my loyalty belong to the new Tribe Chief. It matters not whether our new chief is a Bullkin, a human, or even a Player. Victory alone determines who leads us."

The battlefield fell silent. Every Bullkin stared at Goruk, unable to believe the words coming from their former chief.

Then something even more unbelievable happened.

The seemingly frail player standing before Goruk was suddenly enveloped by swirling streams of dark black and radiant gold energy. The two auras coalesced around his body before surging upward like a towering pillar, climbing even higher than Goruk himself.

Every Bullkin froze in disbelief.

The pressure continued to rise as Jester's body slowly transformed. The small human dressed as an Evil Clown disappeared beneath the surging aura. In his place stood... a Bullkin.

No. Calling him a Bullkin no longer seemed fitting.

The figure possessed a taller, leaner physique than any ordinary Bullkin, but there was nothing fragile about it. Every muscle was perfectly defined, refined rather than bulky, as though every part of his body had been forged solely for overwhelming strength. His massive horns curved proudly above his head, now gleaming with a brilliant golden color.

The armor covering his shoulders, and arms had transformed as well. The once dark metal was now mixed with elegant golden accents that spread across every plate.

But what drew everyone's attention the most was the axe.

The massive weapon, once worn and scarred from countless battles, had become something entirely different. Its handle had grown longer and sturdier, while the head had evolved into a magnificent double-bladed design with a deadly spear point extending from its center.

Every Bullkin instinctively lifted their heads.

The transformed figure standing before them was no longer merely taller than Jester.

He was even taller than Goruk.

"Well, 450 Chaos was definitely worth it if this is the reward."

Jester’s eyes swept over the series of system notifications that continued to appear before him.