Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 53: Ch51. RE: [World Quest] (9) - Against time

Chapter 53: Ch51. RE: [World Quest] (9) - Against time

The battlefield was a storm of fire and steel, the remnants of Sarissa’s flames still smoldering in the ruins around them. Rain hissed as it met the embers, sending up curls of steam that coiled like ghosts between her and Miles. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breath coming in short bursts as she held her stance, sword gripped tight, flames flickering at her fingertips.

Miles stood opposite her, unmoving. The eerie red glow of his mask’s eyes cut through the misty darkness, and he watched, waiting. He had barely broken a sweat. If anything, he looked amused, the mask’s eyes glowing even brighter in blood-red.

Sarissa had always known he was holding back. She had seen glimpses of his true speed and precision, but now, there was no mistaking it. He had been toying with her, but not anymore.

She exhaled sharply, pushing down the doubts clawing at the back of her mind. This wasn’t just another fight. This was pure, raw survival. She wouldn’t lose.

’I can’t. Not here, not now.’

With a burst of speed, she launched herself forward, her blade swinging in a diagonal arc aimed straight at his side. Miles reacted instantly, his scythe spinning in his hands, deflecting her attack with its shaft in a sharp clangor of metal against metal. Sparks flew between them as he countered, twisting the haft of his weapon to bring the curved blade toward her throat.

Sarissa ducked, fire erupting from her free hand in a controlled blast aimed at his midsection. Miles twirled back just in time, the flames licking at the edges of his coat but leaving him untouched. He moved like smoke, fluid and untouchable.

"You’re thinking too much," he said, his voice carrying over the storm that began pouring on them again. "You always hesitate before your next move. That’s why you’ll never win."

Sarissa gritted her teeth. He was right. She knew he was right, but knowing didn’t change the fact that she had to think, had to plan ahead if she wanted to win.

She leaped back, distancing herself before igniting another burst of flames. This time, though, she didn’t aim directly at him. Instead, she launched the fire in a wide arc, cutting off his escape routes. Miles clicked his tongue, amused.

"That’s better," his mask smiled, his grip on the scythe shifting. "But not enough."

He moved, and this time, Sarissa almost didn’t see it.

A shadow blurred in front of her, and before she could react, Miles was already behind her, his scythe whistling through the air. Instinct screamed at her to move, but she twisted just a split-second too late, feeling the cold bite of the scythe’s blade on her shoulder.

Too fast.

Her mind reeled in pain and shock. How? Even at his full speed, he shouldn’t have been able to...

Then she felt it.

A strange, suffocating sensation wrapped around her, something invisible pressing against her very being.

Her body felt sluggish, as though her limbs were moving through thick tar, but it was not due to her wounds. Her flames sputtered in her hands, reacting half a second slower than they should have.

Miles straightened, spinning his scythe once before resting it lazily against his shoulder.

"You feel it, don’t you?" he murmured, tilting his head.

"What... did you do?" Sarissa clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay upright.

"Time isn’t just something that flows forward at the same pace for everyone. It can be... nudged." Miles let out a slow, amused breath.

Her blood ran cold.

"No..." she whispered.

Miles lifted a hand, palm up, and clenched his fingers into a fist.

The pressure around her body intensified, her legs locking in place, her breathing slowing as if she were sinking into water. She struggled against it, but her movements were delayed, unnatural.

"It’s fascinating, really," Miles continued, watching her struggle. "Most people think of time as something absolute, untouchable. But once you learn how to hold it, how to mold it..."

He snapped his fingers.

The weight vanished, and suddenly, Sarissa lurched forward as if gravity had shifted. She barely caught herself before falling, her knees almost giving out beneath her.

"... You can make it work in your favor." Miles chuckled.

Sarissa sucked in a sharp breath, her mind racing. This wasn’t just some speed buff, this was control over the flow of time around his enemies.

He could control the pace of their fight with it.

She was already at a disadvantage. But now? Now she was fighting someone who could decide how much of a disadvantage she had. How was that even possible?

’No...’

She wouldn’t accept it.

"No..."

A flicker of anger sparked inside her, burning through the creeping despair.

"If you think I’ll just roll over and accept your dominance, you’re wrong."

Sarissa forced herself to move, forcing her body to obey despite the unnatural resistance pressing against her limbs. She gritted her teeth, calling upon everything she had ever learned in her countless battles, every death, every turn, every lesson.

And then, she stopped fighting against time.

Instead, she adapted to it.

The moment she felt her movements slow unnaturally, she adjusted, trying to predict the next fraction of a second in advance. Instead of rushing forward blindly, she anticipated the lag, moving half a step earlier, compensating for the delay, planting seeds of fire where she thought Miles would move next.

And when the sensation lifted, she surged forward before Miles could fully react, closing the distance between them in an instant as he evaded the fires that exploded in his wake.

Her blade lashed out, aiming straight for his ribs.

For the first time, Miles hesitated.

It was only for a fraction of a second, but Sarissa saw it, the way the mask’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the way his body tensed. He had expected her to flounder, to drown in his manipulation.

He hadn’t expected her to adapt.

The tip of her sword grazed his coat, barely missing flesh before he twisted away at the last second. But it was close. Closer than before.

"Looks like you’re not the only one who can adjust." Sarissa smirked.

Miles let out a slow sigh, and for the first time, his stance shifted. His casual amusement faded slightly, replaced with something else. Something darker.

"Interesting," he murmured. "I was hoping you’d catch on... But not this quickly." The mask’s smile widened.

His hand lifted again, and this time, Sarissa braced herself.

But instead of slowing her, he did the opposite. The world around her warped, and suddenly, everything sped up.

Her heartbeat pounded violently in her ears. Her flames flared uncontrollably, her vision blurred as the battlefield seemed to tilt. Her movements became erratic, uncontrolled, her reflexes unable to keep up with her own body. Miles lunged.

Sarissa barely twisted in time, but she did not react well enough. The curved blade of his scythe grazed her side, tearing through her amour plate and drawing blood. She hissed, stumbling, her body still reeling from the unnatural acceleration.

"Let’s see if you can adjust to this before you tear yourself apart..." Miles whispered, the manic smile never leaving his mask.

Sarissa’s breathing was ragged, her thoughts spinning. Slowing her down had been one thing, but speeding her up? Forcing her to move beyond what her body could process? That was worse.

It was a death sentence.