CHAPTER 50: A TIME OF PEACE, THANK GOD!

Finn started up the god-awful long staircase leading back into the "Fun Room" and, eventually, the roof where all the madness had started.

The wizards noticed him and all waved—he had gone from being hated by them to being respected and appreciated. Funny how quickly things can change.

And naturally, Chestelle was right behind him, practically skipping, while Arsenio followed with the slow, steady steps of someone too old for this crap but too dead inside to care.

A few steps up, Majestria—having just finished beating Lickthorn like a divine piñata—finally looked up and realized the party was leaving her behind. She immediately sprinted up the stairs to catch up.

Lickthorn, meanwhile, was dragging herself behind them, groaning like a wounded Vietnam vet. Her limbs barely worked, but her libido probably still did.

And of course, when Majestria caught up—because she was nothing if not dramatic—she launched herself high into the air and slammed her goddess thighs down onto Finn’s shoulders like she was claiming a horse at a medieval jousting tournament. No pun intended.

Finn immediately buckled under the sudden weight and face-planted into the steps with a grunt of pure Why God Why.

"Are you INSANE?!" he barked.

Majestria just yawned and lazily stretched. "Stop whining and keep moving. I’m tired."

Finn grumbled. Loudly. But he kept walking—not for her, but because he was done. Done with this quest, these stairs, this entire damn saga. He wanted a break, or at least one full hour without divine trauma.

Also, weirdly enough, this wasn’t the first time Majestria had ridden him. Anytime they had to travel far, she treated him like some glorified human Uber mount. Like she’d just decided, "Yep. This idiot’s transportation now."

Finn vowed to shut that behavior down soon. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

...God, she was heavy.

As the party climbed higher, Finn’s thoughts started spiraling. The chaos they’d been through wasn’t the kind of thing you could just brush off. There were a few things still gnawing at his mind. Well, actually more than a few. The list kept growing.

One: That Trial Of Inner Face thing in that room—how the hell did it know so much? Finn could accept it understanding his fears, sure. But reconstructing college? Showing him his crush again? Putting his mom in his contact list?! That thing didn’t just read his mind. It violated his mental search history.

Two: The demons. They came out of nowhere, targeting Beard Man’s head like it was the last mana Twinkie on Earth. Clearly, something big was coming. They mentioned the Demon Lord awakening—because of course he is. Why wouldn’t there be a Demon Lord? Finn could already feel the future boss battle PTSD brewing in his spine.

Three: Majestria. Literal goddess. Infinite power. Terrible personality. But the thing that really bothered Finn...

When she tried to return to Heaven, she got denied entry. Like, full-on divine rejection. And she barely explained it.

Something wasn’t adding up. There had to be more than what meets the eye...

Four: Chestelle. How the hell did she end up in the "Fun Room"? And why couldn’t she remember anything before that? Sure, she said she had amnesia, but... come on. The girl was unhinged even before her brain broke. Or at least he thought. And don’t even get him started on Lickthorn. Why was she so horny? Like all the time?

And of course, the most tragic thing of all:

Five: Finn’s infertility. He still didn’t have his swimmers. And that was unacceptable. What if—just what if—he wanted to get a girl pregnant someday? What if it was part of a master plan? A fake marriage scheme? A reverse child-support scam? He couldn’t go around the world as shooting blanks Wiggles forever!

In any case, Finn and the gang finally made it to the top of the stairs, pushing past all the weird chests and awkward furniture, stepping once again onto the roof where all the ridiculous chaos had started.

He had no idea what was waiting next.

But at this point, it was probably just another slap in the face.

Or a squirrel.

Or a demon.

Or Majestria’s butt.

He had no hope left. Just a cool hat and a dangerously loyal monster girl with amnesia.

And of course—a narcissistic goddess and a freaky elf.

Just the dream team Finn never asked for.

With a heavy sigh, Finn approached the altar once more and gently placed Beard Man’s head back onto it. The runes glowed again, rekindling the ritual process like nothing had ever gone wrong. Which was hilarious, considering everything had gone wrong.

Hopefully—by all the lazy, half-employed gods of this world—no one else interrupted this time. No more demonic armies. No horny distractions. No giant chickens. No Majestria complaining. Just peace. Just a normal glowing altar doing its weird magic thing.

And somehow... it actually worked.

No demons.

No flying pigs.

No horny groping mimic chest.

Just a smooth, steady recharge.

Finn almost teared up from how uneventful it was.

A magical barrier flickered into existence again, humming softly as it began to recharge. It was still pretty damn cool to look at—like a fantasy screensaver made by a nerdy wizard with too much time.

But even as Finn watched, a strange sensation crept into the back of his mind. That itchy paranoia—like something was watching him. He glanced around. Nothing. Probably just nerves, he told himself. Or trauma. Or both. Mostly trauma.

Then a sudden blast of energy surged from the altar, firing into the magical walls. The round table glowed with a blinding intensity before gradually calming, dimming down until the magic faded entirely from sight.

The barrier was gone.

The ritual was complete.

Finn exhaled slowly, stepping forward and lifting Beard Man off the altar for the final time. Mission accomplished.

No PTSD chest. No divine nomsense.

Just closure.

Arsenio stepped forward, his usual vibe tinged with a quiet smile. He held out his arms. "I think it’d be best if you hand him to me," he said softly. "I’ll take care of him. Find a safer place. Somewhere peaceful."

Finn paused, looking at the old head. For a moment, he felt... weirdly attached. Like they’d been through a lot together. Which, technically, they had.

Still, the thought of handing off Beard Man felt like parting ways with the grumpy magical version of his emotionally distant uncle.

But whatever. He handed him over. "Just don’t drop him. His mood gets worse when he hits his head."

"I’ll be careful," Arsenio chuckled.

Then he stepped back and gestured toward the stairs. "As you know, you’ll have to travel back down the tower and return to wherever you came from," he said. But then his voice lingered, like he was holding back a punchline. A small smirk tugged at his lips. "But I have something for you to make that... easier."

Finn raised an eyebrow, right as a presence appeared near the edge of the roof.

He turned—and his eyes widened.

His mouth slowly opened.

A rush of warmth shot through his chest.

Finn grinned even more relieved than before.