Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 82: Ch80. Pain as a teacher (4) - [Blood Pact]

Chapter 82: Ch80. Pain as a teacher (4) - [Blood Pact]

The night air was heavy with the stench of charred flesh and burnt decay. The battlefield was silent now, the echoes of Diego’s radiant power still lingering in the ruined streets. The golden glow that had enveloped him moments ago was gone, leaving behind only his shaking, pale form in Miles’ arms.

"Come now, Dee, I’ll let you piggyback on me, so you can get some sleep." Miles whispered, his lips curling into a soft smile that Diego was not able to see. ’I’ll take care of everything while you dream...’

Diego smiles weakly as Miles knelt beside him, his heartbeat loud in his ears, throwing Diego softly on his back.

Diego’s chest rose and fell in shallow, unsteady breaths, his face was slick with sweat, and his body was unnaturally cold despite the lingering warmth of [Holy Light].

His little brother had saved them both, but at a cost Miles wasn’t sure he fully understood yet.

"Dee... We’re going home, okay? After that, I’ll leave you resting, and go talk to Sarissa." He started to walk, one step after another, and after a while, he jogged, when he felt Diego’s chin resting easy on his shoulder.

After a while longer, Miles sprinted towards the inner city’s circle, where his apartment building, his [Safe Zone] stood, waiting for them to return home. At times, he had to hide, unwilling to stop and fight any easy prey, even if it meant losing the chance to earn some more experience points.

But nothing else mattered now.

Diego needed rest, and Miles needed answers.

The apartment was eerily quiet when Miles stepped inside, his breathing heavy from the sprint across the ruined streets. The moment the door locked behind him, he exhaled a shaky breath. He was safe.

They were safe.

Carefully, he carried Diego to his room, laying him onto the bed with as much gentleness as he could muster. The kid barely stirred. His body was still too weak, the aftermath of his ability weighing him down like a chain.

"What have you done, little brother...?" Miles hushed barely above a whisper. "What price did you pay for this power?"

Miles sat on the edge of the bed, brushing Diego’s damp hair away from his forehead.

"You’re a dimwit, Dee..." He murmured, but his voice lacked any real anger. Only worry. With a deep breath, he pulled away and stood, his mind restless.

Something did not sit right with everything that happened.

The ghouls, their unnatural resilience, their sudden appearance when the players thought that the only bigger danger was the [Fallen Puppets] and some other lesser new enemies that appeared in the last few days, just like Sarissa had warned them...

The way Diego’s powers reacted to them, as if he was some kind of natural enemy to them, but also as though they were expecting to use that new power of his.

As though they had been designed to force him into awakening...

Miles ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling sharply.

"I have to figure this shit out..." He murmured, walking to the living room.

Opening his stat window, he scanned through everything out of habit.

Then, he saw it.

[Name: Miles Thorn]

[Affiliation: None]

[Level: 16]

[Classpect: Harbinger of The End]

[Attributes: Ender’s Essence; Shadow of The End]

[Skills: Weapons Proficiency (Scythe) – Level 05; Resilience – Level 04; Focus – Level 03]

[Strength: 23(*2)]

[Agility: 18(*2)]

[Dexterity: 19(*2)]

[Perception: 25(+5)(*2)]

[Intelligence: 30(+5)(*2)]

[Inventory: Scorching Rune; Harbinger’s Scythe; Ether Teapot; Cheshire’s Gleam; Desert Rain; Wonderland’s Key; Clockwork Rabbit’s Piece – Gear; Clockwork Rabbit’s Piece – Core; Clockwork Rabbit’s Essence]

[Synergy: Wonderland Madness; God Hunter]

[Echo: Blood Pact; Clue; Torture; Kodokuna sakura no yama]

The last line of text was not there before, and it also seemed that his stats were still doubled, due to his Attribute [Shadow of The End] still active.

"Should I...?" Miles shook at the idea of deactivating his attribute, and ending up like the first time he dismissed the Mad Hatter’s legacy, but...

’Yeah...’ He looked at his level, and it had risen only by one, which probably meant that... ’Yeah, I think it’s worth a shot.’

Clenching his fists, he deactivated [Shadow of The End], and his second shadow immediately uncovered him, returning to the floor, like any other shadow.

’One... Two... Three... Four...’ Miles counted until ten, and when nothing happened, he exhaled heavily, letting out a sigh of relief.

Nothing happened but the disappearance of the indicators that signaled the doubling of his stats. There was no fatigue, no weakness, and most importantly, he did not pass out or have any seizures.

As the worries about his new attribute being damaging to him were cast away, Miles looked at the last line of text in his stat window, scratching his chin.

"I’ll go with you for now." He tapped on the [Blood Pact] first, and then, a message window appeared before him.

[Do you wish to convert the visual data into text?]

[Yes] [No]

"I don’t think so." Miles shook his head, sighing. "No, not this time. I want to see what I’m getting myself into this time..."

After he said it, his world turned black, and then red, blue, bright white. Suddenly, when his vision focused again, he was standing in a dark gallery made of stone, lit by candles that emanated a red flame.

Miles watched as two figures stood in the middle of the gallery, and he knew one of them, but the other...

He suffocated a scream in his throat.

***

The stone gallery was suffocating, the air was thick with something unseen – something ancient, powerful and... Wrong.

Shadows flickered along the cracked walls, twisting and writhing with the dance of a hundred crimson flames, each candle burning with an unnatural red glow. Their wax did not drip. Their fire did not waver. They burned as though fueled by something beyond mere wick and wax.

They burned as though fueled by something alive.

At the heart of the chamber, Shinji knelt before an obsidian altar, its surface smooth yet glistening as if wet with fresh blood. The sigils carved into the stone pulsed like slow heartbeats, exuding a sickly crimson light that cast his features in sharp relief.

The air hummed. Not with sound, but with a pressure that pressed against his skin, wriggling its way beneath his flesh, sinking into his very bones. Then, a voice, low and guttural, slithered through the chamber.

"You seek power."

It did not echo. It did not need to. The words were felt rather than heard, creeping into the marrow of Shinji’s every bone and the fiber of his every muscle. His breath came slow, steady. His heart should have been pounding, but it wasn’t. The ritual had begun, and fear had no place here.

"I do." Shinji answered, his voice even but tense.

Then, the darkness shifted.

From the top of the gallery, where the candlelight refused to reach, something unfurled and descended. A presence, vast and looming, its shape enclosure by something that resembled a cocoon made of raw, bloody flesh.

It was both up there and everywhere.

And then, the eyes.

Not two. Not ten. But countless, blinking open from the cocoon, all of them watching.

"And what will you offer?" The voice oozed with amusement, yet beneath it lurked something sharp, something hungry.

Shinji did not flinch. He reached into his coat, drawing forth a small dagger, its blade black as the abyss, its edge whispering promises of finality. And with deliberate precision, he pressed it against his palm.

A sharp slice.

Blood welled, rich and dark, sliding down his fingers in thick rivulets. But the moment the first drop hit the obsidian altar, the entire room shuddered.

"Your freedom," Shinji spoke, almost defiantly. "And it begins with my blood."

The sigils flared, the pulsing light quickening into a frantic rhythm. The candles flared higher, their flames licking the ceiling, and the voice laughed.

"Good..."

The ground beneath Shinji split open.

No.

Something was crawling through it.

An arm, impossibly long, skin stretched too tight over protruding bones, reached from the abyss, its clawed fingers dragging against the floor, leaving deep, molten grooves in the stone. A second arm followed. Then a torso.

Twisted, elongated, unnatural, wrong in all senses of the word.

And then it emerged.

A thing with no true form. Its head was a shifting mass but a tentacle at the same time, features melting and reforming, never staying in place long enough to be recognized. Its body pulsed, as though it was breathing, feeding on the very air itself.

"You seek strength beyond men."

Shinji’s breath hitched for the first time.

"You seek dominion beyond gods."

The entity leaned forward, its countless eyes narrowing.

"But power has a price."

Shinji met its gaze. All of them. And then, with a smirk, he spoke the words that sealed his fate.

"I will pay it."

The candles died, and the chamber was plunged into darkness.

And then, pain.