Chapter 154 ‒ The Last Three Minutes
Chapter 154 ‒ The Last Three Minutes
Pain.
It surged through Tyler’s body like molten steel, searing and cold all at once. His breath hitched as he dropped to one knee, fingers trembling against the mirrored floor. The wound in his side pulsed with a sickening rhythm — a gaping gouge of blackened flesh where the scythe had pierced him. Thick, tar-like steam hissed upward from it, curling into the air like smoke from a dying fire.
He gasped, and the air tasted like ash.
[Status: Affected by [Annihilation] — Target’s body and soul will be completely disintegrated. Remaining Time: 0.89 seconds]
His vision blurred. His fingers felt numb. The mirrored chamber around him wavered like a hallucination. Piece by piece, he could feel himself dissolving — his form fraying at the edges, breaking down into wisps of black mist.
No—no, not like this!
[Activated Skill: Undying Tenacity]
A radiant gold aura erupted from his chest — pulsing outward, flaring against the encroaching darkness — but it met no resistance. The light passed through the wound like wind through a broken door. The decay didn’t even slow.
[Remaining Time: 0.78 seconds]
[Activated Skill: Rejuvenate]
[Activated Skill: Absolute Defence]
A ripple of blue energy shimmered around his frame, sealing bruises and cuts across his arms and legs. But the wound — that wound — remained untouched. The black steam still hissed and poured from it, mocking all recovery.
[Remaining Time: 0.71 seconds]
Miridiel chuckled.
He stood at the edge of the broken mirror’s reflection, scythe still dripping shadows. His smile was wide — triumphant, cruel, and utterly calm.
“How iro-nic,” he mused, voice smooth as velvet laced with venom. “After all you’ve endured… all you over-came… it ends like…. this. Struck down by your-self. A clone. A reflec-tion. You’ve faa-ailed, Taaayler. Faa-ailed them aaall.”
His voice slithered through the haze of pain, colder than steel. “You will die here. Worth-lesss. Forgot-ten. The last echo of your strug-gle si-lenced… by… your own image.”
[Remaining Time: 0.48 seconds]
Tyler’s hand trembled as he reached for his inventory.
Nothing left… no potions, no buffs… no—
His eyes caught a flicker.
One item.
A bottle. Gold-glass, faintly glowing. A gift, long forgotten, from a moment that felt like another lifetime.
Cupcake Crab… the pirate ship… that ridiculous crab gave me…
He stared at it for a moment.
It probably won’t work… That scammer must have lied to me… but it’s not like I have any options right now…
[Remaining Time: 0.17 seconds]
He pulled it from his inventory and uncorked the top. The liquid inside shimmered like melted starlight.
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered — and drank.
The effect was instantaneous.
A radiant light burst from within, enveloping his entire body in a golden sphere. For a split second, he couldn’t feel anything — not pain, not panic — just warmth, like sunlight breaking through a thunderstorm.
He blinked.
[Remaining Time: 0.12 seconds]
[Remaining Time: 0.11 seconds]
[Remaining Time: 0.11 seconds]
The counter… had stopped.
“What…?”
He focused his gaze.
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[Item Consumed: Elixir of the Immortal King]
[Description: The consumer becomes invulnerable to all damage or skill effects for 3 minutes.]
[Remaining Duration: 00:02:59]
A whisper echoed in his mind, not from the system, but from memory:
“Why are you drinking this now?!”
Cupcake Crab’s panicked voice. Back then, it had been absurd. Now, it was salvation.
Tyler let out a slow breath. The pain was gone. The wound still steamed, still looked like death, but it no longer devoured him. His heart began to steady. His vision cleared.
He stood.
[Remaining Duration: 00:02:57]
Three minutes. That’s all I’ve got.
His gaze hardened.
“Time to finish this.”
Tyler lunged forward, a crimson blur across broken glass.
Miridiel’s grin faltered.
He had seen that look before — desperation, recklessness. But this? This was different. Tyler’s steps were too steady. His form too sharp.
Alive. Whole. And completely unfazed by the skill that should’ve disintegrated him.
“What…?” Miridiel muttered, taking an involuntary step back. “You—should be dead.”
Then he saw Tyler’s path — not towards him.
Towards the mirror.
His eyes widened.
“No.”
[Miridiel Activated Skill: Gigantify]
A shockwave of warped light erupted. Miridiel’s body twisted and grew — bones stretching, armour groaning as his form ballooned to monstrous size. The air thundered as he raised one titanic foot and slammed it down.
Tyler didn’t stop.
[Activated Skill: Absolute Defence]
A shimmering shield of blue light engulfed him just as the massive heel crashed down. The impact cracked the marble beneath and sent a wave of pressure rippling through the mirrored chamber — but Tyler didn’t move an inch.
The foot lifted — and Tyler launched upward.
[Activated Skill: Ram]
He soared like a missile, colliding hard into Miridiel’s abdomen. The blow forced the giant back a step, glass cracking from the pressure. Miridiel winced — then dropped to one knee, shrinking rapidly back to normal size.
Tyler landed with a skid, clutching his side. The black steam still hissed from the wound — the pain was dulled, but real. The potion had bought him time, not recovery.
[Remaining Duration: 00:02:24]
This potion doesn’t heal. Just makes me invincible for now. Once it’s over, I’m gone. I have to finish this before it wears off.
Miridiel rose, face shadowed, breath tight.
“You should be… ash. Why are you… still standing?”
No answer.
Tyler’s eyes flicked past him. Back to the mirror.
That’s your tether.
Miridiel’s scowl deepened.
[Miridiel Activated Skill: Annihilation]
The scythe darkened once more — a void sucking all light. He charged.
The first strike slammed into Tyler’s chest. No effect.
The second sliced through his side. Still nothing.
The third carved across his back — black steam sizzled, but Tyler stood unmoved.
Miridiel snarled.
“WHY WON’T YOU DIE?!”
Tyler didn’t speak — but a smile twitched at the edge of his lips. He’s slipping.
He began weaving between strikes, letting the scythe graze and miss by inches. He stumbled occasionally — a limp, a stagger — always toward the mirror. Always looking pained. Always in control.
[Remaining Duration: 00:01:54]
“Is that all?” Tyler said, panting. “Perfect form getting sloppy.”
Miridiel roared, slashing harder, faster. The blade shrieked as it cleaved through glass columns and missed flesh.
His movements grew less fluid.
More desperate.
Tyler ducked, then vanished in a flash of blur.
[Activated Skill: Screech]
[Activated Skill: Ink Cloud]
A pulse shattered the air, and darkness followed. The black mist burst outward, engulfing the battlefield. The mirrors dimmed, warped. Shadows danced like spirits.
Miridiel staggered. “What now—”
Zzztt!
A figure darted through the fog.
Another.
Then another.
[Activated Skill: Triplicate]
[Summoning: Player Clone, Level 74 x3]
“I’ve had ENOUGH of your TRICKS!” Miridiel bellowed.
[Miridiel Activated Skill: Berserk]
His form pulsed with blood-red light. Veins bulged. His eyes glowed like coals in a furnace.
The scythe screamed as it swung, over and over.
The first clone struck from the right — low and fast, aiming to hamstring. Miridiel whirled and slashed horizontally, narrowly missing the torso — but catching the leg. The clone collapsed, dissolving into red mist.
[Player Clone #1 has perished.]
“Tch. Just a fake.” Miridiel spat.
The second clone leapt from behind, using debris for cover. He twisted midair, striking with a reverse grip — the blade scraped Miridiel’s back.
Miridiel spun too late.
“WHERE—”
Another slash. The clone ducked — but the second swing cleaved him from shoulder to hip.
[Player Clone #2 has perished.]
“Two gone. Show yourself!”
Miridiel’s chest heaved. He swiped at a silhouette.
Miss.
He swung again.
Air.
The third clone slid out from the fog behind a cracked pillar and slashed in a sweeping arc. The edge grazed Miridiel’s neck, leaving a flash of sparks — the follow-up strike missed, carving through air.
Miridiel grunted.
He lunged, stabbing forward.
The clone parried once, twice — then mistimed a spin.
A downward strike crashed through its guard, shattering it.
[Player Clone #3 has perished.]
Miridiel stood panting in the darkness, smoke curling from his armour. The room echoed with silence.
Then — footsteps.
Measured.
Unhurried.
A fourth figure emerged through the haze.
Walking straight toward him.
“There you are.” Miridiel’s voice cracked — not with triumph, but something like… hunger. “Enough illusions... Enough hiding.”
The figure didn’t reply.
It didn’t stop.
Miridiel’s hands shook. “Come on, then! Show me you’re not just another—”
He charged.
The scythe swung in a brutal arc.
It carved straight through.
CRRAAAK.
Not flesh.
Not blood.
Glass.
The sound rang like a funeral bell.
A jagged crack snaked from the impact, slicing across the mirror like lightning crawling through sky.
Miridiel froze.
The scythe slipped from his fingers.
He stared at the splintering mirror — a thousand shards blooming across its face. Each one showing his own reflection — distorted, broken.
“No…”
His lips trembled.
“NO‼”
SHHHHRRAAK!
The mirror shattered.
Glass exploded outward in a radiant cascade — shards tumbling like stars through the smoke, catching every sliver of light. The frame groaned, then collapsed inward, splitting in two with a sound like the world caving in.
Silence.
Miridiel stared at the ruin, breath held.
The fog thinned.
And behind him—
A voice.
Cool. Certain.
“Hey.”
Miridiel turned.
Tyler stood a few steps away, real and whole. His scythe rested against his shoulder, the golden glow of the elixir still faintly shimmering across his skin.
“You missed.”