Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 214: Ch212. [Dark Forest] (16) - Let’s do this

Chapter 214: Ch212. [Dark Forest] (16) - Let’s do this

Jake’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

It wasn’t from exhaustion, though he was bone-tired, or from the pain of the shallow gash across his ribs. No, it was fear.

Real, visceral fear that clung to his spine and whispered that he wasn’t supposed to be here.

That he was a rookie, a tag-along, a fanboy in over his head.

But he stayed.

Because Sarissa was still out there, and Shinji was a monster now. Because Victor had betrayed them, because someone had to stand their ground, even if it was not enough.

And because Miles would’ve stayed, even if no one else would.

So, Jake clenched his jaw, forcing the tremor in his fingers into a steady grip around his daggers. The blades were chipped, not from poor make but from overuse. The System hadn’t offered him better ones yet. He hadn’t earned it.

But he would, no matter what.

The forest had changed. Gone was the familiar, if eerie, underbrush of the [Dark Forest]’s outer rim. Now it only felt wrong, with the trees leaning inward like eavesdropping listeners, their bark oozing black sap that hissed when it touched the soil.

The sky above was a swirl of violet mist and shadow. There was no sun, no stars, only the cold light of his interface window that flickered like a dying lantern.

He saw movement at the edge of the clearing.

A beast. No, three of them, stalked out, their limbs stretched and jointed wrong, like wolves reassembled by someone who’d only heard of them in a dream, an abhorrent mixture of flesh and metal that half walked on all fours, half dragged itself, crawling like a dying man.

Jake didn’t run. He stepped forward, the ground soft, wet under his boots, almost sponge-like.

"Come on, then!" He muttered through gritted teeth.

The first one lunged.

Jake dodged to the side and swung his daggers hard. The impact jarred his arm, but the blade bit deep into the monstrosities’ neck. It was not enough to kill it, though. The thing shrieked and twisted its head at an impossible angle, black ichor spraying from its wound.

Another one was already on him.

He ducked, the creature’s claws tearing the air above his head. He turned the motion into a roll, came up behind it, and drove the sword through its back, the system’s voice immediately echoing in his mind.

[Critical Hit!]

[You killed an Altered Monster – Card Soldier of the Crawling Chaos]

The System’s words were brief, almost casual, as if this wasn’t life or death. As if his heart wasn’t trying to beat out through his chest.

But he didn’t stop moving. The last beast hesitated for a fraction of a second, then bolted into the shadows.

Jake exhaled, shaking again.

Sarissa was still alive, but there was still no sign of Miles. No sign of reinforcements. Just him and the other Shooting Star members – the ones who were still alive – to hold the line and not let the camp fall under the never-ending wave of metal and chitin.

He crouched and checked the potion count. There were only two left. One healing, one stamina.

He took a breath, swallowed the healing one, and kept moving.

Every step felt like a gamble.

He ran into two more groups of monsters, still very coordinated and swarming a group of his fellow guild members, and pushed through them, tearing through their chitin and metal with every ounce of strength he had left.

They still fought with the same hunger, but Jake was hungry, too. Because of fear, because of the adrenaline running through his veins, because of the nightmare that the battlefield had become.

He moved fast, with more confidence than he felt, dodging and slashing. Every successful hit built on the last, every kill proving something to everyone who lived to see him save them.

Even though he had begun fighting seriously, playing The Glitch for real, because of the stories he heard of how Miles stood against the unfathomable evil that rose in the [Mouth of the Abyss]...

He wasn’t just a fan of Miles anymore.

He was a fighter, even if he was scared.

No.

Especially because he was scared.

The System chimed again.

[You have killed-]

[You have killed-]

[You have killed-]

[Level up]

Jake didn’t stop to assign the stat points he had accumulated, doing it automatically in his mind, and hoping that the system would obey. He couldn’t afford wasting time in these trivial tasks.

Then, the light changed.

It started subtly, like someone had cracked open a door to a cleaner, better world. A soft, white glow spilled through the canopy, not harsh or artificial, but alive.

It wasn’t sunlight. It wasn’t moonlight, either. It was... Something else.

He turned, and the forest behind him began to shift.

The trees straightened, the strange whispering that he felt like playing with his senses stopped, the black sap boiled and vanished. The air no longer stung his lungs. It felt like the curse on this place had lifted, or at least drawn back.

He even felt some of his former strength returning to his limbs, even though he had not used his last [Stamina Potion].

Jake stared, unable to move, and then, from the light, a silhouette emerged.

A figure that was taller than him, panting ever so slightly, but walking with purpose. He wore a long coat, ragged from battle. A familiar scythe glinted at his back, its obsidian black almost drinking some of the light that emanated from him.

No, not from him, but from something that was attached to him.

He had a pistol resting in one hand, held like it was made for him.

But it was the small white creature curled on his shoulder that truly stood out, and it was then that Jake realized it.

The light was coming from it. It shone with the warmth, like a fragment of something divine.

"Miles..." Jake whispered, and around him, he heard his fellow guild members’ voices carrying the same relief.

His heart surged. Relief, disbelief, awe. He felt like a kid again, watching a hero step onto the stage.

But there was something different now.

Miles didn’t just look like a hero anymore.

He looked like a man who had walked through hell and come back brighter.

Jake stepped toward him, ready to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind.

Miles met his eyes, nodded once, raised his scythe, and then, within a storm of black sparks that covered his face, the mask materialized.

Sleek-white, carved stitched lips, bright-red glowing eyes. And then, from beneath the mask, Miles’ voice echoed.

"Let’s do this."