Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 173: Ch171. Miles vs Rolf

Chapter 173: Ch171. Miles vs Rolf

The mist rolled low across the forest path as Miles approached the base of the Schwarzwald range, the dense evergreens crowding close like silent watchers.

The ground beneath his boots was soft, dark with dew and fallen needles. Overhead, pale shafts of early morning light pierced the canopy in narrow beams, painting the landscape in soft hues of gold and grey.

The map flickered in the corner of his system window, a faint pulse drawing him forward.

[Chamber of Whispers - 300 meters ahead]

He had heard of this place in fragments, but mostly rumors too strange to be entirely fake.

When the world opened before him and the others, after they cleared the [Mouth of the Abyss].

Come to think of it, it was indeed strange that they could never leave the city proper during the first stages of the game. Like there was something preventing them from doing so, always throwing monsters at them or putting something in their way, every time they were close to reaching the city limit.

Now, however, ever since they cleared the First Dungeon, not only they were able to explore what lay outside... But others could travel to their place too, and it made one hell of a mess, but it was not time to dwell on such things, since Miles was already arriving on the border of that strange Dungeon.

Probably one of the other 364 that nestled the [Ascension Fragments].

A dungeon that didn’t appear on any major raid maps that began being published throughout the first half of the year.

No entrance on public record, just whispers, true to its name.

As he crested a hill, the forest parted, revealing a depression carved into the earth like a scar. Stone steps descended in a gentle spiral into the mossy hollow. At the very center, a doorless archway stood, wrapped in ivy and etched with runes that shimmered with faint, shifting light.

And in front of it, sitting on a protruding stone, there was a man.

Tall, broad-shouldered, gruff, and utterly still.

He wore no visible armor, just a fitted black shirt, worn leather pants, and heavy boots. His hands were bare, his hair was blond and short, his jaw square, and his eyes were gray, cold.

Miles slowed as he approached.

"That’s close enough." The man said, his voice low and even, but carrying a strong German accent.

"Didn’t realize the place had a doorman." Miles stopped about ten paces away.

"It does, and if you care for your life, turn around. You don’t want to walk through that arch." The man didn’t smile.

"Why’s that?" Miles tilted his head, genuinely curious.

"Because I’ll kill you if you try."

Silence hung between them, even the wind seeming to still.

"There’s no need to fight." Miles let out a slow breath. "I know this Dungeon was already cleared, so there’s nothing of interest for regular players in there."

"You may be right, but the system knows you. And we both know what it means." The man’s gaze didn’t falter.

And as if waiting for a cue, the system rang in Miles’ mind.

[You have encountered a bearer of - Ascension Fragment]

[Fight them and retrieve the fragment]

Miles studied the German player. He hadn’t seen a notification like that before, and it only meant one thing.

’Battle royale...?’ He tilted his head ever so slightly, glancing at the man again. The hostility in his eyes had sharpened into something eager.

"You feel it now, don’t you?" The man asked. "That pressure building in your head? The weight of the system pushing us towards each other?"

Miles didn’t respond.

"Name’s Rolf." The man said, stepping forward. "And whether you like it or not, I’m not running from it."

He vanished.

One blink, and he was gone from his spot.

The next blink, and he was right beside Miles, his arm cocked back, his fist glowing with compressed energy.

Miles twisted, the [Ender’s Mask] sliding into place in a shimmer of dark sparks.

Rolf’s punch connected with his side, and even with his strength, sturdiness, and passive barrier, it hurt.

The punch sent Miles skidding across the leaf-strewn ground, boots carving shallow trenches in the earth. He landed hard against a fallen log, the breath knocked from his lungs, even though he had blocked it.

Rolf didn’t pursue immediately. He stood tall again, shaking out his hand.

"Damn." He muttered. "You’ve got good instincts, and a good body, too."

"You’re fast." Miles pushed himself up, teeth gritted.

"You have no idea."

Miles summoned the [Harbinger’s Scythe], and the weapon materialized into his hand like it had been waiting for this.

The two stared at each other for a beat, the forest humming around them.

"We don’t have to do this." Miles said.

"Doesn’t matter." Rolf replied. "Because I want to."

Rolf charged again, this time faster.

Miles ducked under the first strike, his scythe swinging up in a defensive arc. Rolf parried with a forearm hardened by some kind of skill Miles didn’t recognize, the clang of power meeting power echoing like a bell.

Miles countered with a spinning sweep, forcing Rolf back. The man skidded on the wet earth, then lunged again, his feet barely touching the ground.

His arms blurred, a flurry of jabs that didn’t seem to aim to kill, making Miles step back, duck, and twist, the red eyes on the [Ender’s Mask] following each movement.

He caught a punch with the shaft of his scythe, redirected it, and brought the blade down in a clean arc, grazing Rolf’s side.

"Not bad." Rolf said, grinning now. "You’re better than I expected."

"No expectations on my side." Miles growled, pressing forward.

The scythe danced, sweeping in wide arcs that forced Rolf to keep his distance, but Rolf adapted quickly.

He grounded himself, becoming immovable. Miles struck, the scythe colliding with his shoulder, and bouncing off.

Rolf pivoted, his foot sweeping low, Miles leapt, barely avoiding a trip. And then he went high, the golden crystal at the heart of [Harbinger’s Scythe] glowing brighter.

He vanished from Rolf’s field of view, reappearing right below him, and instead of striking with his scythe, Miles launched a kick right at Rolf’s chin, sending him flying upwards.

Rolf landed, staggering to stand, blood rolling down the corner of his lip.

But he didn’t fall.

He laughed.

"Finally!" He hissed. "A real fight."

He surged forward, his hands glowing crimson now.

Miles pivoted, parried, kicked Rolf back. But something was not right there. Something was coalescing above them, threads of light forming like a dome, like judgment incarnate. And then, the system echoed.

[Battle for the Fragment – Stage 1]

[Miles Thorn vs. Rolf Hesse]