Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 122: Ch120. Test

Chapter 122: Ch120. Test

The silence that followed the Master’s words was suffocating. The masked figures surrounding them remained motionless, their unreadable expressions only adding to the tension. The only sound was the faint hum of the flickering neon lights embedded in the chamber walls, casting sharp, angular shadows across the shifting floor panels.

Miles kept his stance firm, his fingers tightening around the shaft of his scythe. His heart pounded, but his voice remained steady.

"I need to prepare before I challenge The Last Verse."

"A bold claim." The Master’s masked face tilted slightly, his dark eyes glimmering with amusement, or perhaps curiosity.

"You really don’t do subtle, do you?" Kurt let out a low whistle.

"The Last Verse is not a place one simply walks into. It is the heart of The Horizon, the culmination of all roads. Do you even understand what it is you seek?" The Master got up and took a step forward, his presence heavy.

"That’s why I’m here. To find out." Miles met his gaze.

"Then let us see if you are prepared to seek answers." The Master chuckled, a hollow sound that reverberated through the chamber.

With a snap of his fingers, the shifting floor beneath them rumbled. Panels slid apart, revealing a network of interlocking mechanisms. The masked figures around them took a step back as thick metal arms unfurled from the walls and ceiling, whirring to life with an eerie synchronization.

"Here we go..." Kurt shifted beside Miles, muttering.

Without warning, the arms lashed out.

Miles reacted instantly, dodging as a claw-like appendage struck where he had been standing. He swung the scythe, the weight of it strangely more familiar than ever, and cleaved through the first metal limb. Sparks erupted as the severed piece clattered to the floor.

Kurt ducked beneath another strike, his movements fluid.

"They always have a test." He called over his shoulder. "Try not to die during it."

Miles did not respond, too focused on the whirling chaos around him. More mechanical limbs extended from the walls, shifting unpredictably as if adapting to their movements. The masked figures observed in silence, the Master watching, leaning against his throne.

Another strike. Miles twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the crushing grip of one of the mechanical arms. His scythe whirled through the air in a horizontal arc, slicing through the appendage before it could retract. The vambraces on his wrists pulsed as he moved, the intricate cogs shifting as if reacting to his motions.

Then, the environment changed.

The walls began to close in, the floor shifting again. The chamber was reshaping itself, a living entity designed to test, to break.

To judge.

Miles’ mind raced. This was not just an attack. It was a trial.

A shifting maze of traps and adversaries meant to push him to his limits.

"How far will you go, outsider?" A mechanical voice echoed from the walls.

Miles clenched his jaw.

"I’m not going to be toyed with this time!"

He charged forward, ducking under a swinging blade, his scythe carving a path through the shifting machinery. Every motion felt sharper, more instinctual. The vambraces protected him against the strikes he was not able to block or dodge, not a single dent or scratch appearing on them.

Kurt kept pace beside him, darting through the chaos with practiced ease.

"You’re handling this well." He noted, slashing through a thick cable that had shot toward him like a whip.

"I’ve had worse." Miles grunted.

As if in response, the walls retracted suddenly, revealing a new threat.

A construct, towering and jagged, pieced together from rusted remnants and reinforced plating, and flesh pulsing underneath it, lurched forward from the darkness. Its movements were stiff but powerful, the hum of energy radiating from its core a clear sign that it wasn’t just scrap cobbled together. It was a force meant to test him.

And as Miles tightened his grip on the scythe, realization struck him like lightning.

The thing before him looked too much like a Revenant, but at the same time, slightly different. It reminded him of...

"[Card Soldiers]?"

The construct struck first, its massive arm swinging down like a hammer. Miles barely rolled aside in time, feeling the force of the impact shake the ground beneath him.

No hesitation despite the question lingering in his mind. He leapt forward, the scythe’s blade humming as he brought it down on the construct’s lower joints.

The metal groaned, but the construct did not falter. Instead, its other arm shot forward, catching Miles off guard. The impact sent him skidding backward, his vambraces sparking against the ground.

"Yeah, but definitely stronger!" He panted heavily.

Kurt moved in swiftly, his twin knives flashing as he aimed for the construct’s core, but the machine’s plating deflected his strikes.

"Tough bastard!" He muttered.

Miles pushed himself to his feet. He could feel it, the familiarity in the way the construct moved, the way it adjusted, learning their attacks.

It was not just a test of strength. It was a test of adaptation.

The scythe pulsed in his hands.

Miles focused, feeling his weapon. He shifted his stance, making his body as flexible as possible. Instead of attacking the construct head-on, he moved with it, watching for the briefest of openings, gathering momentum with each motion.

And then he saw it.

As the construct raised its arm for another devastating strike, a thin gap in its plating was exposed near its core. Small, but enough.

Miles lunged, and for a fraction of second, time seemed to stand still.

The scythe cut clean through, embedding deep into the machine’s center. The construct lurched, its limbs spasming as energy crackled through it. With one final heave, Miles twisted the blade and tore it free.

The construct collapsed with a heavy crash, the chamber falling into silence once more.

Miles caught his breath, sweat trickling down his forehead. He turned toward the Master, who had watched the entire encounter without moving.

Finally, the Master spoke.

"Impressive."

"Was that enough?" Miles straightened, still gripping his weapon.

The Master was silent for a moment. Then, he stepped forward, his coat shifting with his movements.

"You seek The Last Verse, yet you do not fully grasp what that means. You wield strength, and an exquisite kind of power, but strength and power alone will not carry you through."

"Then tell me what will." Miles exhaled sharply. "But before that..." He looked straight into the master’s eyes. "Tell me, why the hell do you have a [Card Soldier] in your arsenal?"