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The pilgrim had heard the stories long before she ever laid eyes on the golden rings of High Halls. Every hall in Pharloom carries a song, the old travelers said, and the High Halls carry the cruelest one of all — a melody stitched together from spinning rings, spike-filled shafts, and an eleven-wave slaughter that has broken more wanderers than any crowned boss ever managed. In a kingdom of twenty-eight biomes, this one, hidden above the Choral Chambers, remains the place where ambition goes to die.

But she was stubborn, and stubbornness, in Pharloom, is a kind of currency.

The Long Road to the Golden Rings

Before the pilgrim could even think about stepping inside, she needed the Clawline — a tool she could only claim in the Underworks, the grim industrial sprawl that opens up after Trobbio falls. That alone took her longer than she cared to admit. Once the hook was finally hers, the path revealed itself at the top left of the Choral Chambers. Those who have not yet unlocked the route can find it by passing through the Cogwork Dancers' arena and pressing left until a lonely bench appears at the very edge of the map.

To the right of that bench hangs a ring. She leapt, hooked, and rose. More rings followed, some of them willing to carry her upward like patient elevators. The entrance to High Halls waited on the right — and it was only the beginning.

Dancing With Rotating Rings

Her first steps inside were deceptively simple: jump, Clawline to the platform on the right, repeat, and cut down whatever stood in the way. Then came the rotating mechanisms, their rings orbiting like the teeth of some colossal clock. The trick, she learned after two painful falls, was patience — waiting for a ring to swing to the bottom before jumping and hooking it, riding it to the apex, then leaping to the rings on either side and using Cling Grip to haul herself higher.

A Minister died at her needle there. She climbed the left wall to the top-right exit and pressed on into a room that mirrored the first, except that two more Ministers spawned the instant her feet touched the next platform. She learned to dread that sound — the soft chime that means something new has noticed you.

The Spike Shaft and the Bench Below

Past the Ministers, the architecture opened into a great hall where the floor had been replaced by spikes. She dropped toward them, glided into the left corner, then Clawlined to a ring on the right and simply waited. A second passed. A lever groaned somewhere in the dark, and the spikes beneath her sank. From there it became a rhythm: hook across the gap, cut down a Minister mid-flight, and finally drop through the exit below.

Relief arrived in the shape of a bench, a map, and a Ventrica humming to her right. She sat, breathed, and understood that the worst was still ahead. To the left waited a massive fight, and beyond it, the Conductor's Melody.

Eleven Waves, No Boss, No Mercy

What awaited her was not a boss. That was the joke, the one every veteran tells with a tired smile. Instead, the room demanded eleven consecutive waves of enemies, and losing at any point meant starting over from the bench on the right.

Ten waves she could manage, bleeding and cursing but managing. The eleventh was something else entirely — two Choir Clappers, enormous, attacking without pause, leaping without warning. Fighting them fairly is close to impossible.

So she cheated, a little. First she bought the Ascendant's Grip, a yellow tool sold by the merchant in Songclave once that merchant has been unlocked. With it, the top-left and top-right corners of the arena become a genuine blind spot, a place where no Clapper's swing can reach. Then, the moment wave ten ended and debris began raining from the ceiling, she scattered every Tack across the floor on one side and released her Cogflies. From the safety of the corner, she watched the traps gnaw one miniboss down to nothing — and the survivor was, at last, a fair fight.

Secrets Hidden in the Shadows

The pilgrim did not leave empty-handed, either. High Halls rewards those willing to look sideways instead of forward, and its hidden corners hold some of the finest loot in the region.

By the time she finally walked away, the Conductor's Melody resting in her inventory and her nerves thoroughly shredded, the pilgrim understood something the rumors had never quite captured. High Halls is not difficult because it is unfair. It is difficult because it demands everything at once — movement, patience, preparation, and the humility to use a dirty trick when the honest one will not work. 🎼

Come prepared. Come stubborn. And do not forget the Tacks.

That same instinct — scouting the map before committing, hoarding resources, refusing to pay full price for something you can outsmart — tends to follow players out of the arena and into their libraries. Anyone who enjoys a game that punishes sloppy preparation usually ends up with a long wishlist and a short budget, which makes the hunt for a bargain almost a second hobby. Waiting for the right moment to buy, the way you'd wait for the right moment to spend a Tack, is its own kind of discipline.

If that sounds familiar, DealNest is built for exactly that mindset. It gathers best game deals in one place, so instead of refreshing a dozen store pages between attempts, you can see what's actually worth grabbing and get back to the fight. Come prepared, come stubborn — and come with a little money left over for the next challenge.