Chapter 153: Legendary Showdown Nobody Will Remember
They stood across from each other, the mist swirling, the wind shoving against their bodies. Two men. Two rivals. Both standing like cowboys in a showdown.
This battle was going to be legendary. Historic. Eternal. And by eternal, that meant only two people would ever know it happened... with only one walking away.
Finn stretched his fingers, cracking the knuckles. Ready to trip Ardin. Ready to put this douchebag in his place once and for all. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Ardin smirked, sword gleaming in his hand. "It looks like we meet again! What a coincidence, don’t you think?"
Finn glanced around at the mist and collapsing wood. "Yeah. Real random. Totally not scripted at all."
Ardin spread his arms, cape flaring with the wind. "And this time, nobody will be getting in the way of justice. The rightful justice that has been waiting for you."
Staring at him, deadpan. "Really? This entire building is literally collapsing and you’re still holding this grudge? You’re more immature than me!"
Ardin marched forward, blade drawn. "This place is collapsing... so what? Until I reap your dirty stain off this world, my steed will not stop!"
Biting his lip, tasting blood. Ardin wasn’t joking. He was obsessed.
’I really wish I had a sword right now... it’d make this whole setup way cooler.’
Then the realistic thought hit him. ’Actually, no. He’d body me in one swing. Forget the sword idea. Stick to tripping.’
Ardin suddenly exploded forward, closing the distance in a flash. Finn panicked, stumbling back and flinging his arm out—catching him with a trip.
Ardin fell forward, but at the last second stabbed his sword into the wood, stopping his face from hitting the floor.
Finn’s jaw dropped. "What the hell?! He countered the trip?!" Ardin wasn’t playing. This was the real deal.
The hero yanked his blade free and lunged again. Finn stretched his arm once more, and this time Ardin did stumble—only to slam his boot into the floor and redirect the fall with sheer strength. He spun, fist cocked—
CRACK!
The punch smashed across Finn’s cheek, sending him sprawling onto the floor. He groaned, clutching the burning side of his face, when a shadow fell over him.
Ardin was already raising his sword, bringing it down to split him in two.
Finn rolled, the blade carving deep into the wood where his body had been a second ago.
"Holy shit!" Finn gasped between ragged breaths. He wasn’t prepared for a duel like this—hell, his body wasn’t either.
"Don’t run, coward!" Ardin snarled, ripping his sword out of the floor. The wood groaned as if it had been stabbed by a tree trunk.
He swung again, the blade slicing the air so close it shredded Finn’s sleeve. Finn stumbled back, tripping over himself and landing on his ass.
Then—WHAM!
The sword slammed down between his legs, missing his jewels by an inch. Finn let out a high-pitched scream that sounded like a dying raccoon.
Scrambling on all fours, he tried to crawl away, but Ardin’s boot caught him square in the face. CRACK. His nose almost snapped sideways.
"AGH!" Finn clutched at it, blood smearing across his fingers, before his back hit the floor hard. A moment later—SLAM!—a boot crushed against his chest, ribs creaking under the pressure.
His breath hitched. He opened his eyes, only to see cold steel glinting inches from his face.
Ardin tilted his head, flashing a victorious grin. "In the end... justice always prevails, Finn. Your luck has finally run out. Now you face your demise."
Finn bared his teeth in defiance, blood dripping from his mouth and nose, then grinned back.
"My demise... luck?" He chuckled hoarsely. "When has luck ever been on my side? I’ve been thrown from one disaster to another since day one. Luck has never—ever—been with me."
Ardin’s grin only widened, sadistic and sharp. "Good. Then you already know this is how you’re meant to end."
Finn scoffed, blood bubbling as he laughed. "End here? Seriously? You think this is how my story goes? Nah. I’m way too insufferable to get such a cool death. If anything, I’d probably die choking on a moth, or from some disease they cured centuries ago that only comes back to kill me."
Ardin blinked, his victorious glare slipping into a confused frown. "...What?"
"Exactly," Finn smirked through the pain.
Ardin scowled again. "Doesn’t matter. In the end, you’ll still die pathetic."
Pressing his boot harder into Finn’s chest, making him groan in agony. The sword came down, aimed straight for Finn’s face—ready to cleave him in half.
Or... at least it was supposed to.
A sudden rumble shook the platform. Ardin’s balance faltered, his swing cutting through empty air as he stumbled off Finn. Both of them froze, eyes widening.
The fog was tearing apart. The entire area around them was clearing—but the view was worse than anything they’d imagined. They were high above the ground now, so far up that clouds swirled below them. And if the structure kept rising... they’d reach the very heavens.
Finn’s stomach dropped. Whatever was lifting Moistvile this high... it was massive. A force beyond comprehension. But he couldn’t worry about that. Not yet.
Ardin. That was his problem.
Glancing to his side, Finn noticed Ardin completely captivated by the rising abyss beneath them. The murderous rage in his eyes was replaced with shock and awe. A perfect opening.
Scrambling to his feet, adrenaline flooding him, and sprinted for all he was worth—every step pounding against the shaking wood.
It took a moment for Ardin to realize he was being abandoned. His gaze snapped to Finn, and fury returned like a tidal wave.
"Why are you running?!" Ardin bellowed. "You can only run for so long, dirtbag!"
Each step felt like lifting mountains. Pain shot through Finn’s body with every movement, and the wind whipped around him like a storm trying to shove him off the edge. He needed help—he couldn’t survive this on his own.
But as the platform creaked and groaned, and clouds swirled ever closer beneath them, the danger didn’t discriminate. It was worse for both of them now. The world itself seemed ready to swallow them whole.
That was not what happened. Instead, some of the wood on the platform they stood on began to break and fall off, disappearing into who knows where.
Then, a building from Moistvile—still attached to the foundation of the city—came crashing up through the clouds, smashing into pieces. Chunks of wood flew everywhere, narrowly missing them. One small shard sliced across Finn’s cheek, making him stumble—not from the rumbling, but from exhaustion, from everything that had happened.
Pillars that acted as the foundation of Moistvile burst through the floors like jagged spikes, erupting from holes at random.
This entire place was no longer safe—it had never been.
Finn looked around desperately. All he saw was destruction, chaos, and the looming threat of his own demise. Ardin was closing in, relentless. The gravity of the situation weighed heavier than ever, and Finn began to believe it: this was it. This was the end of his journey. He was going to die here, at the hands of the man he so despised.
"No... it’s not over just—"
Words vanished from his throat like a hamster in a blender as a powerful kick sent him flying, slamming him into the floor with a thud that splintered the wood beneath him.
Ardin loomed above, more battered than before but still full of fury. "You always end up on the ground near me," he sneered. "It seems you’re finally beginning to learn your place."
Finn said nothing. He was too tired, too beaten. He lay there, head resting against the floor, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and defeat.
Looking down at him, Ardin frowned, disgust written across his face. "Pitiful."
Finn managed only a weak smile, which seemed to enrage Ardin even further.
"Why do you always get in the way?!" Ardin sneered, his voice breaking into a faint laugh that grew louder, more unhinged.
He glared down at Finn. "Why is it always you? Why?! Why do you constantly throw yourself into my path?!"
Finn just looked back at him, silent.
"Say something, damn it!" Ardin’s voice cracked with fury. "Every time I see you—you always end up making some scene, always doing something bigger than before! Always trying to steal everything from me—everything that should be mine! What is it, huh?!"
Still, no response. Only Finn’s shallow breathing, mingling with the sound of the collapsing ruins around them.
Ardin’s gaze narrowed, almost trembling. "What are you, Finn?" He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "No... it doesn’t matter. You’re going to die either way."
He raised his sword high. "Goodbye."
The blade came down—
—and the floor beneath Finn gave way.
The wood split apart, and Finn plummeted into the darkness below, swallowed by whatever lay beneath.
The last thing he saw before the black closed in was Ardin’s twisted glare, still burning with rage. For a moment, Finn almost laughed—because even now, even falling to his possible death, he had managed to piss the guy off one more time.