Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 151: [EXTRA - ] Ch149. [World Quest] (9) - Duel of the fates

Chapter 151: [EXTRA Chapter] Ch149. [World Quest] (9) - Duel of the fates

The arena shimmered into form beneath the Archivist’s spell, concentric rings of glyph-marked stone rising from the floor like the slow surfacing of a memory long buried.

Blue flames lined the edges, flickering against the dusty air. Magic pulsed through the ground with each heartbeat, setting the stage for something ancient and sacred.

Miles stepped into the circle, and Sarissa mirrored him, her boots barely making a sound as she moved. Her eyes, however, were anything but quiet.

They burned like wildfire.

She summoned her sword, but it was different from the one she was using before. It had runes etched into its blade, a bluish ghostly glow emanating from it.

"So, that’s how it’s going to be...?" Miles raised an eyebrow, recognizing the [Cheshire’s Gleam] immediately, but neither Sarissa nor Cheshire answered his question as she assumed an offensive stance.

The Archivist watched them from the balcony as she waited for Mara and Diego to arrive by her side.

When they did, she finally broke the ominous, solemn silence that thickened the air around them.

"The circle knows no lies." She said, and the sand began to fall. "May the purest resolve win."

Sarissa did not wait for the Archivist to allow them to commence. She surged forward like a bolt of steel and fiery fury, closing the distance between them with terrifying speed.

Her blade arced low, and then high in a deceptive feint that Miles barely avoided by dropping to one knee and letting the edge whistle past his cheek, almost biting into his shoulder.

However, he did not even try to counter, rolling backwards and springing to his feet.

Sarissa froze, pivoting mid-step.

"No weapon?" She spat, incredulous. "You think you can beat me bare-handed?"

"I’m not bare-handed." Miles said, flexing his fingers.

Immediately, his [Doppelganger] emerged from the ground, cloaking him in his familiar black coat, and his [Overgear] shifted, coursing through his arms towards his shoulders. He immediately felt the surge of power as his stats doubled, but Sarissa did not wait to see what he was going to do next, her blade crashing down on him like a guillotine, but Miles did not dodge.

Sarissa’s eyes went wide as he caught it with his bare hand.

A shock rippled through the arena as his hand locked around the flat edge of her sword. Sparks flew. Sarissa stood there, shocked and baffled, the full weight of her swing stalling against his raw, augmented strength.

"You learned that in there?" She growled, pushing forward.

Miles’ boots scraped back, grounding himself.

"You have no idea what I learned in there." He twisted.

She lost her footing. For a breathless moment, Sarissa stumbled, and in that sliver of vulnerability, Miles drove his shoulder forward, slamming into her chest and sending her skidding back across the arena floor.

But she caught herself mid-slide, landing almost crouched to the ground, her blade already repositioned.

"Good." she said. "I was worried you were still weak."

"Worried about me? That’s new." Miles smirked.

Sarissa dashed again, faster this time, with more violence than swordplay in her movements.

Up on the balcony, Diego watched the fight attentively, his gaze not wavering from neither Miles nor Sarissa as he asked the Archivist.

"Why a duel?" His voice was calm, but there was a hint of apprehension behind it. "You know they hate each other’s guts, right?"

The Archivist’s lips curled upward ever so slightly.

"Therefore, it was only inevitable." She paused. "They have unfinished business to solve, and what better way to do that than in a duel here, before things get out of control, out there?"

Diego frowned, pursing his lips.

However, he wasn’t able to defeat the Archivist’s sound logic, but before he could retort with anything, the blind woman added.

"Also, you know he’s a wanted man now, yes?" Diego nodded. "She’s been struggling with hunting him down from even before the system’s bounty fell upon him. So, now it’s better than later."

Diego wasn’t sure of what the Archivist meant by her words, but he knew he was bound to find out, sooner or later.

So, he kept paying close attention to the exchange of strikes between his master, and his older brother.

Sarissa’s strikes came relentlessly, a flurry of never-ending cuts, slashes and thrusts.

Miles ducked, dodged, side-stepped, but not all of them.

One caught his shoulder, while another grazed his thigh, and a third smashed into his side. But none of them drew blood.

And still, he didn’t summon a weapon.

Even when there was more violence than technique into a person’s fighting style, there was still a pattern etched into it, different from Revenants, who were simply destructive forces of nature, chaotic and devastating.

If there was a pattern, Miles would be able to read into it, learn from it, and break it as soon as he decided to move.

And he saw it, the sequence flowing between Sarissa’s strikes. One, two, then three slashes, and then he struck.

A perfect hit to Sarissa’s breastplate, making her fly towards the edge of the arena.

The impact echoed through the chamber, slamming her against the warded edge, the sigils flaring to absorb the force, and she fell, landing on her feet, stumbling.

She wiped her mouth, seeing her blood for the umpteenth time in a fight against him.

"You have changed..." She muttered.

"Not enough for you to admit I’m right, though." Miles replied, wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow.

"Never." She growled, and her blade pulsed, a scarlet glow lit up the runes etched along its length, and Miles felt it.

It was more of a feeling than words, but he knew it clearly.

Cheshire’s voice, or rather, his emotion, speaking directly into his mind, his heart.

"I’m sorry, my boy... I guess this time I can’t just sit by and watch, like last time..."

’Yeah... I know...’ Miles smirked bitterly. ’Whatever happened between the two of you during this last year, or even before that, it’s none of my business, but I promise you one thing...’

He shifted his stance, and a storm of black sparks swirled around his hands, a black scythe with a golden crystal embedded into the heart of its blade.

Black sparks enveloped his face, too, and after a few seconds, a slick white mask with glowing red eyes and stitched smiling lips covered his face as he said in a distorted voice.

"I’ll stop holding back." And he charged towards Sarissa.