Chapter 155: From Chest to Champion
It was Chestelle.
She stood over Finn with the kind of excitement a kid has when finally finding someone during hide-and-seek after hours of searching.
"I finally found you!" she squealed, practically bouncing in place.
Finn blinked, completely thrown off. Out of all people, he had not expected Chestelle to be standing there—especially looking like a ball of chaotic sunshine while everything else was falling apart.
But with all the manic energy radiating from her, Finn couldn’t help but smile. Honestly, he was just relieved to see someone who wasn’t Ardin.
"...How did you even manage to get up here?" he asked, his voice weak and tired.
Chestelle paused, finger pressed to her chin as she thought. "Hmm... I was climbing when the building collapsed on itself, then I fell through like... three walls, climbed again, then walked around until I heard yelling—and boom! Found you!" She clapped her hands, proud of her explanation.
Shaking his head, Finn muttered, "Well... I’m just glad you’re here."
Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, pacing carefully so his battered body didn’t collapse again. Chestelle, brimming with joy, suddenly grabbed a handful of his right butt cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He didn’t stop her. Honestly, he didn’t care. After everything, it was just a relief to not be alone anymore.
Across the ruined room, Ardin stood. He wasn’t charging, wasn’t swinging, wasn’t even yelling. Just... standing there. Watching.
Chestelle tilted her head, frowning. "What’s he doing?"
Finn squinted back at him. "I actually don’t know. He was trying to kill me earlier. Now he’s just standing there like some creep."
Chestelle gasped, covering her mouth in shock. "Why would he do that..!"
Finn turned to her, deadpan. "You saw him choking me! What do you mean, ’why would he do that’?"
"I thought he was hugging you," she said innocently.
"That’s not what a hug looks like."
Chestelle blinked up at him. "Then can you show me?"
Sighing, Finn pulled her into a tight embrace. Chestelle purred happily against his chest. "This is a hug," he said.
"Ohhh."
Breaking the contact, Finn narrowed his eyes. "Wait—who told you choking was a hug?!"
"Lickthorn!"
"...Of course."
"Are you two done chatting?" Ardin sneered, pacing side to side like some drunk uncle looking for a bar fight.
"Uh... yeah?" Finn blinked, confused by Ardin’s sudden change in behavior.
Ardin scoffed at the answer. "Pathetic! You always need someone to hold your hand. You’re so weak you constantly hide behind women! Every bone in your body makes me sick."
"...What?"
"Enough!" Ardin stopped pacing and gripped his armor. Piece by piece, he tore off the plates covering his chest and shoulders. Each chunk of metal hit the floor with a heavy clink.
Finn just stared. ’What the hell is this guy doing now?’
Within moments, Ardin stood with his chest armor gone, only the black cloth beneath clinging to him. The only metal left was strapped to his legs. He flexed his hands into fists. "I don’t need armor to defeat garbage like you. I’ll crush you with my bare hands!"
Finn raised a brow. "Okay... yeah, like I didn’t already know that."
Ardin snarled, his voice cracking with fury. "Stop running and fight me! Bring your little whore of a woman too—I’ll beat her the same way I’ll beat you!"
Finn froze. Insulting him was one thing, but dragging Chestelle into it? That was too far. She didn’t even know what hugging was.
He clenched his fist, eyes hardening. "Alright then."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Finn wasn’t just scared or stalling. He actually felt something else—anger. Ardin had finally crossed the line. After everything—the guild, the swamp, the humiliation—this was it.
He raised his fists, planting his stance. "Round two."
***
They moved forward together—Finn tense, Chestelle strolling beside him like they were headed to the market instead of a fistfight.
Glancing at her, Finn hissed, "What are you doing?!"
"Helping you," she said casually.
Finn stopped, grabbed her hands, and curled her fingers into fists. "There. Now just stay close and don’t get hit."
"Okay!" she chirped, practically bouncing with excitement.
Finn shook his head. This whole thing was less of a serious battle and more like some dumb Saturday morning cartoon.
Soon—
Ardin swung first, throwing a heavy left hook. Finn weaved under it and countered with a "powerful" right hook to Ardin’s ribs. The knuckles smacked against his side—but the force rebounded straight back up Finn’s arm, making him wince in pain. Still, he held his ground.
Then, out of nowhere, Chestelle kicked Ardin square in the side. The blow actually made the man stumble a step.
’What the hell—how?!’
Ardin snarled and came back harder, winding up for another strike. Finn shoved Chestelle out of the way just in time to take the hit himself. The punch slammed into his torso, rattling his already-battered body and forcing him back.
Chestelle gasped, panicked. "Finn!"
Ardin pressed forward, driving a fist under Finn’s jaw, then cracking another into his neck. Finn gagged, collapsing onto his ass.
Ardin loomed over him, lifting his boot to stomp Finn into the floor—
WHAM!
A random treasure chest materialized out of nowhere and crashed into Ardin, knocking him back a step.
Finn blinked, stunned. Then he saw it.
It was Chestelle. She’d finally transformed—on purpose—into a chest.
Finally...
The chest gave a little poof—and instead of a brown box, a cute monster girl popped out, beaming. "I did it!" she cheered, raising her arms like a victorious toddler.
Then a metal-clad leg swung in and cracked across her face, sending her tumbling to the floor with a brutal thud.
"Chestelle!" Finn yelped—then immediately almost laughed, because he had absolutely not expected that outcome.
"Don’t think you get to walk free either!" Ardin roared, stomping his foot down onto Chestelle’s chest.
Finn froze for half a second. Her chest... her boobs...!
If Ardin crushed them, Chestelle’s boobs would be ruined forever. Finn’s brain went into emergency overdrive. His eyes widened, his pulse spiked, and he let out a panicked scream before hurling himself at Ardin.
Against all odds, the tackle actually worked. Finn slammed into him hard enough to make the heavier man stumble.
Fueled by sheer boob-protection instinct, Finn rained down punch after punch, each one bouncing off Ardin like he was hitting a brick wall.
Ardin finally raised his hands and hammered them down on Finn with crushing force, flattening him into the floor like a cartoon pancake.
Then Ardin planted his boot firmly onto Finn’s back. Another damn foot on him. Another stomp. Another spine-crack.
But this time... Finn moaned.
The sound was involuntary, deep, embarrassingly satisfied. It startled even him.
Ardin froze. His boot still pressed down, his face full of confusion.
"...Did you just—"
Without another word—and for some reason, it worked perfectly as a distraction—Chestelle turned into a chest and slammed right into Ardin’s annoyingly perfect face. The blow made him stumble back, clutching his nose.
"GHHHHH—AAAHHH!" Ardin screamed, staggering, his voice echoing pure rage. "How dare you!"
Chestelle poofed back into her monster girl form and hurried to Finn, propping him up with her small frame. His arm hung heavy around her shoulders, but together, they stood.
Ardin slowly lowered his hands, revealing his nose—bloody, crooked, bruised.
’Damn...’ Finn thought, almost impressed.
"You will pay for this!" Ardin bellowed, his teeth grinding, his fists trembling. His eyes burned with raw hatred, like he wanted to murder Finn on the spot—and then rewind time just so he could do it again.
He charged. The ground shook under his boots.
But then the entire building groaned. Parts of the ceiling caved in, and whole sections of the floor gave way beneath them.
Ardin stumbled forward, barely catching himself. Finn and Chestelle, weaker and battered, struggled to keep their footing.
Then a massive crack split between them, and the floor dropped away, opening a jagged pit that cut Ardin off from them.
He skidded to a halt, teeth bared, snarling even louder than before. The collapse didn’t stop him—it only seemed to fuel his rage.
They stared at each other across the collapsing floor, both worn down and exhausted—though Finn far more than Chestelle.
Ardin’s eyes locked onto Finn with a death stare, refusing to let him escape. Then, without a word, he began stepping back.
Finn frowned in confusion. ’What the hell is he planning?’
But then it hit him.
’No... he’s not actually going to—’
Ardin broke into a full sprint, charging straight toward the pit. His boots thundered against the breaking floor before he leapt, soaring through the air with terrifying speed and power.
Halfway across. Almost there.
Finn’s eyes went wide with horror. Ardin was going to make it. And if he did, it would be the end—for both him and Chestelle.
Finn’s heart pounded as he threw out a trembling arm, his body screaming in protest. He had nothing left, no strength, no plan—only desperate instinct.
Just as Ardin’s hand stretched forward, about to grab hold—
Finn pulled his own hand back.
Praying something—anything—would happen.