Chapter 152: Precarious Platform Showdown
It was Ardin.
The bastard had somehow climbed all the way up onto the balcony, sword in hand, standing across from Finn like a predator cornering its prey.
Finn glanced at the railing beneath him, creaking and groaning under his weight like it was about to give way at any second. Then he glanced at Ardin’s. Not a sound. Of course. The universe just hated him.
Their eyes locked—pure, boiling hatred radiating between them.
Ardin smirked. It was the kind of smirk that said you’re mine now. No one was here to save Finn. Not this time.
Leveling his oversized sword at Finn, the blade gleaming dramatically in the room for no real reason.
A bead of sweat ran down Finn’s temple as he tried not to think about what would happen if it came swinging at him—for no apparent reason at all.
"It looks like you’re alone again, dirtbag! No maid to swoop in and steal my victory. Not this time!" He slashed the air with a theatrical swing, curling his free hand into a fist. His teeth gnashed, his whole body trembling with barely contained rage. "I won’t let you take anything else from me. Not again. Not ever!" He thrust his fist down, practically shaking with spit-flecked conviction. "Never again, Finn Wiggles! I’ll be the last face you ever see!"
Staring at him blankly, unimpressed. He slowly raised his hand, casually extending it to mime a trip, because there was no way he was sitting through another one of these villain monologues.
"Not so fast!" Ardin barked.
For some reason, Finn actually paused, eyebrow raised. "...Yeah?"
Ardin’s glare burned hotter. "You won’t use your little wizard tricks on me again. I know what you did. I know how you cheated. I know everything!" His eyes bulged, stabbing into Finn’s soul like flaming pitchforks.
Finn’s mind raced: Is this the part where I die, or the part where I trip him and he falls instead?
Titling his head, shrugging innocently. "I don’t know... maybe I just wanted to smack that pretty face of yours."
Ardin gasped like he’d just been slapped again. "So you admit it! You cheated during the slapping duel!"
Finn blinked. "Wait—you said you already knew I cheated."
"I only said that because it sounded cool."
The two men just stood there in silence, staring at each other.
"...Okay then," Finn muttered, fed up. He stretched his arm out again, ready to trip him—
—when the whole building convulsed, a bone-rattling quake ripping through the floorboards and walls at once.
A sudden tear ripped through the panicked screams, louder than any voice in the hall.
The building itself was breaking apart.
Cracks splintered across the walls like veins in stone, nails shot loose from the boards, and the timbers groaned like dying animals. The whole place was on the verge of caving in—until the unthinkable happened.
The guild split wide open.
Fog surged in through the gaps like a tidal wave, swallowing the room in a choking mist. Finn and Ardin both lost their footing, the violent force too much for either of them. They went tumbling against the balcony rail.
Finn slammed chest-first onto the wood with a sharp thud, his ear ringing as a board behind his head snapped. His heart seized, convinced he was about to plunge to his death.
By some miracle, the railing held—barely. Only two bars snapped free, clattering down into the void below. Finn let out a shaky, relieved sigh.
"Okay, okay... maybe I’m not dead yet," he muttered under his breath.
Then came another crack.
"Shit."
The entire railing ripped loose, swinging downward like a giant wooden rope bridge.
Finn’s relief shattered into a scream as he latched onto the rail, legs dangling wildly. His whole body jolted with every sway, fear pumping through his veins.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would make a difference. It didn’t. It only made it worse.
Opening them again, he had just enough time to see a wall rushing toward his face.
CRASH!
The railing—and Finn with it—slammed into the wooden side of the guild, blasting straight through the wall in an explosion of splinters.
The wall burst open in a storm of splinters, and Finn was spit out onto a hard wooden floor.
"Guhhh—!" he groaned, clutching his ribs. His whole body throbbed, his mind still spinning. He hadn’t expected to survive the fall, much less get thrown into... wherever this was.
The foundation groaned beneath him like a dying animal. Every creak made his heart stutter. He swore he could hear the entire building moaning.
He pushed himself up, blinking through the haze. The fog was still here, but thinner—swirling just enough for him to see the platform he now stood on.
A massive, broken wooden deck stretched into the mist, jagged planks sticking up like teeth along the edges. The place looked less like a building and more like some kind of final boss stage ripped straight out of a video game.
Finn’s stomach dropped. The air itself felt staged—ominous, rehearsed, like fate was scrolling text across the bottom of the screen: Boss Encounter Incoming. Making him swallow hard, wishing desperately for a loading screen or a quick save.
And at the far end, another figure was dragging himself upright.
Ardin.
His armor was scratched, his cape torn, but his sword was still gleaming in his grip. He shook off the dust, standing tall, eyes burning with the same hatred as before.
Finn swallowed. The thought hit him instantly.
’...Oh, hell no. This looks exactly like a fight-to-the-death setup. Why does fate keep throwing me into cutscenes I didn’t sign up for?!’
The two locked eyes across the shifting platform. The creaks of the wood beneath them only made the silence heavier.
Every second stretched long. The fog curled higher, wrapping around their legs like chains. The boards between them seemed to groan in anticipation, as if the stage itself was hungry.
It wasn’t said out loud, but the message was clear.
Neither of them was leaving until one of them was broken.