The corridor twisted ahead like a serpent, narrow and dim, the walls cracked and bleeding shadows. The trio crept forward, each step heavier than the last. When they finally rounded the last corner, a chilling sight greeted them.
Down the hallway stood a single jester, hunched and twitching under the guttering torchlight. His name was Pippo, one of the dreaded Jester Twins. He wore a tattered motley costume, red and black patches stitched crudely together. In his gloved hand, he cradled a battered jack-in-the-box, cranking it slowly as he laughed—a high-pitched, broken sound that grated against the trio's nerves. His eyes darted in random directions, never focusing for more than a split-second, and his mouth was stretched into an unnatural grin.
"Welcome to the show," Pippo cackled, voice rasping with madness, "where you'll die of laughter!"
With a jerking motion, he tossed the jack-in-the-box into the air.
As it tumbled, the toy convulsed mid-flight. Sickening sounds echoed through the hallway—wet pops and squelching snaps—as grotesque limbs tore from its sides. Two gnarled legs and two malformed arms sprouted, writhing and twisting as the once-harmless toy transformed into a shambling, nightmarish creature.
Lila instantly stepped forward, voice sharp and commanding. "Be careful! This isn't just a puppet."
"I'll draw his attention," Kaisel said, setting his stance low, his muscles coiled like springs.
Chosa opened his mouth to warn him—
—when a shiver of pure dread sliced through him. His breath caught. His passive skill Intuition flared to life, screaming at him of imminent death.
Without thinking, Chosa activated Speed Boost, his body blurring forward an instant before a dagger slashed through the air where his neck had been.
A second jester had appeared behind them—Mimpo, Pippo's twisted twin. Unlike his brother, Mimpo wore a dark purple and yellow suit, his face painted in a grotesque permanent smile. In one hand, he wielded a gleaming dagger, dripping with an oily black substance.
"Ambush!" Chosa barked.
He spun to face Mimpo, heart pounding.
"I'll handle this one!" Chosa shouted to Kaisel and Lila.
They hesitated—just a beat—before nodding. Worry flashed in Lila's eyes, but she knew they had no choice.
With a roar, Kaisel charged at Pippo and the monstrous jack-in-the-box, moving with a burst of magical speed. He collided with the creature, both staggering under the impact, and immediately fell into a vicious brawl. Each blow he struck was met with a grotesque counter, the creature's limbs lashing at him with unnatural flexibility.
Lila wasn't far behind. Chanting under her breath, she unleashed a volley of mini fireballs. They streaked toward Pippo, but the deranged jester dodged each one with manic glee, flipping and somersaulting with a madman's grace. Lila gritted her teeth, her mind racing for a solution.
Sliding low beneath the jack-in-the-box's swinging limbs, she summoned a shadow blade into her hand—a smoky, crackling sword. With a cry, she slashed at Pippo, meeting his dagger in a shower of sparks. Their blades screeched against each other, Pippo giggling madly all the while.
Meanwhile, Chosa faced Mimpo alone.
The jester hurled dagger after dagger with inhuman speed. Blades hissed through the air, cutting shallow wounds along Chosa's arms and legs, nicking flesh and soaking his clothes with blood. Every step he tried to take forward was met with a fresh storm of steel.
"Luna!" Chosa growled through gritted teeth. "Options?!"
"Activating combat analysis," Luna's voice responded smoothly inside his mind. "Recommendation: Use Berserk to close distance."
"Can't. If i use berserk now then i won't be able to use it for a couple hours and i need it for when we face the vampire lord"
"Acknowledged. Calculating alternative. Current survival probability without Berserk: six percent."
Chosa let out a grim laugh. "Six percent isn't zero. I'll take it."
He ducked low as another dagger whistled over his head.
"Scanning for weaknesses," Luna said.
Seconds later, she returned. "Observation: Mimpo throws with less force from his left hand. Exploit this weakness."
Chosa nodded. He watched carefully, analyzing Mimpo's throwing rhythm.
Another barrage came.
Chosa triggered Speed Boost again, zigzagging left, narrowly avoiding a dagger that sliced a shallow gash across his ribs. Pain flared, but he pressed on, inching closer, using Mimpo's weaker side to gain ground.
Each step was a battle.
Each breath was borrowed time.