The three days before the duel passed in a blur of sweat, bruises, and frustration. From sunrise to nightfall, Hyunwoo trained like his life depended on it—because, in a way, it did.
The Elven training grounds, carved elegantly into the heart of the forest, echoed with the sharp clang of wooden swords, the swoosh of arrows flying through the air, and the occasional frustrated scream from Hyunwoo himself.
"I swear, if one more tree root trips me, I'm switching to gardening," he huffed, rubbing his sore butt after yet another fall.
But he improved. Every day, his footwork became steadier. His reaction speed, sharper. Even if his style was still more 'panicked squirrel' than 'swordsman', he was learning.
Princess Lirae often watched from a distance, perched on a high branch, her golden eyes hidden behind a veil of leaves. She admired his tenacity. Most humans would have given up. But he didn't. He was clumsy, sure, and often muttered weird things to himself, but there was something… endearing about it. Something genuine.
Hyunwoo, for his part, had no clue.
"Why do I feel like someone's watching me?" he muttered mid-swing, only to smack himself in the shin with his training sword. "Ugh. Maybe it's a forest spirit. Please, no more bad luck ghosts."
Despite his complaining, Lirae's lips often curled into a smile. She didn't know if it was bravery or pure foolishness, but either way, he was different.
During his training, he also stumbled onto something surprising. While experimenting with his status window and the Celestial Sword, he realized he could do something unusual—buff himself.
"Wait… support class is supposed to buff others… right?" he muttered, eyes wide. "But what if… I'm the support… for me?"
It was clumsy at first. He accidentally gave himself speed boosts while sprinting and ran face-first into a tree. Another time, he tried to boost strength and nearly snapped his wooden sword in half.
Still, with practice, it started to click. A low-level self-buff ability was something unheard of—even the elves were impressed.
He didn't tell anyone. It felt… personal. And maybe, just maybe, something he could rely on when things went wrong—as they always did.
On the third night, he slept uneasily. And that's when the dream came.
Chains again. Coiling like snakes around his limbs. Darkness, thick and suffocating, clawed at his chest. He felt like he was sinking in black ink.
Then a whisper—no, a hiss.
"You can run. You can fight. But you are mine. Always."
Hyunwoo screamed, struggling. Then suddenly, a light.
A familiar warmth.
The Celestial Sword, embedded in the ground before him, its glow flickering like a dying star.
[Celestial Sword: Engaging… Error. Curse Influence Detected.]
[Warning: Unknown Force. Identity – Dormant Curse. Suppressed… Temporarily.]
Then silence. The sword's light died.
Hyunwoo woke up gasping.
The sword lay beside him, but it was cold, still. Silent.
"Not you too," he whispered, staring at the blade. "Don't go quiet on me now."
But there was nothing.
The morning of the duel arrived with golden sunlight streaming through the Elven canopy. The city buzzed with anticipation. Banners fluttered. Elves took their seats in the grand arena—an open-air circle surrounded by thick ancient trees, their leaves shimmering with magic.
At the center stood Hyunwoo, breathing deeply, rolling his shoulders, stretching.
He wore new clothes—ceremonial Elven training gear. Tight enough to show his defined build, not that he noticed. He always thought his abs were just… normal. Functional.
Lirae, however, thought differently.
From her place beside her father, the King, her face flushed the moment she saw him enter the arena.
He's… really not bad-looking, she thought, flustered. Why didn't I notice before?
She wasn't the only one. Several young Elven women in the audience whispered, giggled, pointed.
Hyunwoo scratched the back of his head. "Why is everyone looking at me like I'm a rare Pokémon or something?"
From across the arena, Flairan entered, tall and imposing, armor gleaming, his eyes locked on Hyunwoo with quiet fury.
"Imagine being unlucky enough to fight him," Hyunwoo muttered.
Then Flairan spoke, his voice echoing. "Flairan, son of the Second Warden, stands ready."
Hyunwoo squinted. "Still cringe."
The King raised a hand. "Let the duel commence."
The fight started with a blur of movement.
Flairan's first strike was like lightning. Hyunwoo barely dodged, tripping over his own feet but managing to roll out of range.
"Wha—ok, too fast, too fast!"
Clang! Steel met steel. Hyunwoo blocked, but his arms shook.
Flairan pressed on, relentless. Every blow was measured, clean, efficient. A lifetime of training.
Hyunwoo fought back with everything he had. Not just his sword—but his unpredictability. He feinted, ducked, even kicked up dirt once.
"You fight dirty," Flairan growled.
"I fight to stay alive! Big difference!"
They clashed again—this time with sparks flying as the Celestial Sword held against Flairan's brute strength. The impact echoed like thunder, the audience holding its breath.
Then, tapping into what he discovered, Hyunwoo activated a small buff. Speed.
He danced to the side with unexpected agility, barely evading a powerful blow. He struck back—light, but enough to make Flairan stagger.
Even the crowd gasped.
"He's buffing himself," one elf whispered.
"Is that even possible?"
The duel continued—epic, unpredictable. A perfect blend of raw strength and wild improvisation. Flairan fought with precision, Hyunwoo with desperation and a sliver of strategy born from chaos.
And yet… Hyunwoo held his ground.
"You've improved," Flairan admitted.
"Thanks. You're still terrifying."
But the tide shifted when Flairan went for a finishing move—a massive overhead strike meant to end it.
Hyunwoo, exhausted, backed up.
Time slowed.
The Celestial Sword flickered in his grip.
[Celestial Sword: Reactivating. Source of interference – Dormant Curse.]
[Purge Engaged. Luck +1. (Almost like a monke.)]
[A Great Being is Watching You.]
Hyunwoo's body moved on instinct. He raised his sword just in time to meet Flairan's.
A massive shockwave exploded.
Crack.
Flairan's sword shattered. He was thrown backward.
Silence.
Hyunwoo stood panting in the center of the arena, sword glowing faintly again.
The King rose. "The duel is over. Victory to Hyunwoo."
The arena erupted.
Lirae covered her mouth, eyes wide.
The Celestial Sword buzzed softly.
[Celestial Sword: Impressive. Not dead. That's progress.]
Hyunwoo whispered, "Yeah… what the hell just happened?"
But deep down, he knew. Something inside him had stirred. Something dangerous. Something powerful.
As he stood beneath the glow of the Elven arena, a whisper brushed past his ears.
[The World Tree acknowledges your path.]
Hyunwoo looked up at the branches above.
"Guess this is just the beginning, huh?"
Enjoyed the chaos? The duel? Think Hyunwoo's luck can't possibly get worse? Oh buddy, just wait. Drop your thoughts in the comments, rate the chapter, and make sure to follow—things are only going to get crazier from here!