After being revived by his master, Jester couldn’t remember much of his past. His memories were fragmented, incomplete, like torn pages scattered across a void he could no longer reach. All he truly knew, what remained clear and undeniable, was that his master was the closest existence in the world to him.

Even after becoming undead, it didn’t dull Jester’s senses. If anything, his awareness had sharpened. And because of that, he could sense it.

His master disliked him.

Not openly. Not with hostility. But there was a distance. A faint rejection buried beneath indifference. To any other being it might have gone unnoticed. But Jester saw it clearly.

Yet as a creature governed by logic, he could not understand why. He had done nothing wrong. He existed for his master. Everything he was, everything he could become, belonged to that one figure. By all reason, there should have been no flaw in his existence.

But still, the distance remained.

Even so, it didn’t change anything.

Jester loved his master. Not out of emotion, not in the way humans understood it, but in the only way he could define it. Absolute recognition of importance.

His master was also special. Not simply because he was his master, but because he was genuinely, fundamentally special. There was something about him. Something different at a level that defied easy explanation. His master could change the nature of things. Not metaphorically, but at a deeper level, something that contradicted the very structure of existence itself.

Jester had always wondered if this was normal. It wasn’t until he devoured the memories of Li Yuan that he finally understood the truth.

It was not normal. Not even among cultivators, who counted among the most powerful beings in the world.

His master was abnormal. Unique.

Jester couldn’t help but wonder when his master would evolve him.

Time passed. He watched.

One by one, his brothers and sisters proved their usefulness. They fought. They grew. They stood beside their master and carved their place at his side.

And Jester remained a mass of flesh.

He wanted to do more. He needed to do more.

Fortunately, the opportunity came. When his master created a clone, his master viewed it as a failure. To Jester, it was a gift.

But even after gaining a body, his master did not keep him close. Instead he was placed far away, entrusted with something else entirely.

His master’s family.

Jester did not understand it at first. He believed, logically, that he could be of far greater use at his master’s side. If his master invested in him, refined him, evolved him, his value would increase well beyond what it currently was. But since it was an order, Jester obeyed.

Time moved forward.

And slowly, he began to understand.

His master was not lacking power. He was not lacking capable subordinates either. Among his many siblings were beings just as special as himself. Some were even more suited for direct combat, for destruction, for standing at the forefront of whatever came.

Jester was not the only one.

And so he found his place. If he could not serve his master on the front lines, then he would serve him from the shadows. Just as protecting the family allowed his master to act without restraint, Jester would become that unseen support. The silent guardian. The one who ensured that everything behind his master remained stable.

An unshakable foundation.

But to do that, he needed to grow stronger.

And then, three days ago, the opportunity finally came. His master had decided to evolve him.

Jester did not know what he was thinking at that moment. There were no emotions guiding him. No sudden enlightenment. No grand realization like those recorded in the memories of cultivators who spoke of epiphanies beneath the heavens.

There was only one thing.

A goal. To become useful to his master. To reach a state where his existence would no longer be lacking.

And under his master’s blessing, something changed.

That singular obsession, pure and untainted by distraction, condensed. It evolved. It gave birth to something greater.

A Law.

A Law born from calculation. From observation. From countless silent analyses of cause and effect. From watching, waiting, and determining the most optimal path forward. A Law that did not seek to fight fate. But to read it. To dissect it. To use it.

The Law of Heavenly Revelation.

At its core, it was not a power-oriented Law. It was a Law that allowed the unseen to be seen. But not in the crude sense of perception, not merely sensing danger or predicting attacks.

This Law touched something deeper.

Fate.

To most beings, fate was abstract. A vague concept used to explain coincidence, destiny, or inevitability. Even among powerful cultivators, fate was something only the highest tiers could barely glimpse.

But Jester’s Law treated fate differently. To him, fate was structure. It was a network. Connections extending from every being, every action, every possible outcome. Invisible lines that dictated probability, possibility, and direction.

And through the Law of Heavenly Revelation, Jester could see them.

[Law of Heavenly Revelation]

A Law that allows its user to perceive the hidden structure of fate as an interconnected web of possibilities. Through this, the user can analyze how events, choices, and outcomes are linked, enabling accurate foresight. By applying calculation and precise control, the user can subtly influence these pathways, guiding events toward desired results while remaining within the natural flow and constraints of destiny.

Jester was satisfied with this Law. Not because it was powerful in a direct sense, but because it was perfect for him.

He had never been a being meant for brute force. Even at his peak, his strength had always come from understanding rather than destruction. This Law did not force him to change that nature. Instead it refined it. It gave structure to the way he already existed.

More importantly, it aligned with his purpose.

Jester did not need to stand beside his master on the battlefield. He did not need to be the strongest. As long as he could see the paths ahead, his value would not be inferior to any of his siblings. In fact, it might surpass them.

Because while strength could destroy enemies, control could prevent them from ever becoming threats in the first place.

Jester no longer questioned his place.

He had found it. Not at the front. Not at the center. But everywhere. In every choice. In every possibility. In every unseen thread guiding the future forward.

And in that quiet, precise domain, Jester was content.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​