Three days had passed since Hyunwoo's collapse. He'd woken up in the infirmary with Lirae by his side, but the atmosphere around him had changed. The goofy remarks, the sly grins, the awkward jokes—none of them were there anymore. The air surrounding him now was heavier, and so were his thoughts.
Wearing a simple tunic, he stepped out for a walk. The sun was peeking through the clouds, birds chirped like nothing had happened—but for Hyunwoo, everything had. His head throbbed, his chest was tight, and every footstep felt like it was dragging fate behind it.
Lirae walked beside him. She tried to smile, tried to ease the tension in her companion's eyes, but she could sense it. The Hyunwoo walking next to her wasn't quite the same as the one she'd shared awkward laughs with. His gaze was deeper now—confused, yes—but also serious. Like a man standing at the edge of a truth too big for him.
"Everything feels... wrong," Hyunwoo muttered, more to himself than to her. "Like I'm standing on the pieces of a puzzle I should already know."
They reached the forest's edge. A perfect place to clear the mind—or fall deeper into it.
As they quietly stepped between the trees, Hyunwoo suddenly stopped. His eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right.
Faint footprints. Recently disturbed soil. Broken twigs. But it wasn't just that—there were drag marks. Signs of resistance. Then, distant murmurs.
They followed the trail, ducking behind bushes. There—through the foliage—they saw them: four elves in black cloaks, two dragging bound elven children in sacks that writhed softly. The children's whimpers were muffled by magical silence runes glowing on the sacks. The other two elves looked around nervously, guarding the perimeter.
Hyunwoo's blood ran cold. This wasn't just some shady exchange. This was trafficking.
"Lirae," he whispered. "We weren't supposed to see this... This is it. This is the lead we needed."
But one of the cloaked elves locked eyes with them. He shouted something in elvish. The others turned. Panic flashed in their eyes.
"Run," Hyunwoo ordered, voice cold and urgent. "Go back to the king. Tell him what we saw."
"What about you?" Lirae hesitated.
"GO!" he barked.
She bolted.
Arrows flew. Magic bolts zipped past her ears. Lirae dodged, her steps guided by desperation and uncanny luck. Fear wrapped around her chest—not for herself, but for Hyunwoo. She knew the elf knight who emerged before him. A monster in armor. A name whispered in the academy as a tale to scare trainees. One of Flairan's father's most ruthless enforcers.
She didn't look back. She couldn't. Then—just as her legs began to falter—Flairan appeared. Calm. Dead serious.
"Go," he said. "I'll hold them off. That's the least I can do."
Back in the forest, Hyunwoo stood face-to-face with the knight. His armor shimmered with a dark silver glow, his helmet shaped like a beast's snarl, eyes cold and empty.
"You saw too much'' the knight said.
Hyunwoo responded coldly '' I saw enough.''
The clash began.
The knight moved like a phantom—fast and brutal. Hyunwoo blocked the first blow, but the force shattered a nearby boulder and sent him crashing into a tree. Bark exploded. He hit the ground, coughing blood.
He staggered up, spitting crimson. "No more running... I'm done running."
Hyunwoo clenched his fists and activated the skills he had earned—not gifted, but forged through tireless training.
Reflex Surge. His nervous system sparked to life, reaction time doubled.
Power Step. His legs burst with controlled force, his movement sharp and fluid.
Celestial Skin. A glowing silver hue enveloped his body—damage resistance, increased endurance.
Support skills—meant to strengthen others.
But Hyunwoo had always trained alone.
So he strengthened himself.
Because he wasn't just the support.
He was the hero too.
The battle raged. The knight's blade was relentless, tearing through the forest like a whirlwind of death. Trees splintered. Earth cracked. Every parry shook Hyunwoo's bones. Every dodge came a heartbeat too close.
Despite the buffs, he was losing.
Despair seeped in like poison. His breaths were shallow. His arms trembled. Blood ran down his side. The knight's voice echoed in the air, smug and final:
"You're not enough."
His vision blurred. His legs faltered.
This is it, he thought. This is how I die.
Darkness crept in.
His heartbeat slowed.
And then—
A whisper in his soul.
Move.
His body shifted on instinct. A stance—familiar yet foreign. His aura surged. A glow spread from his chest to his limbs.
The same stance. The same aura.
From the vision.
From the battlefield.
He wasn't seeing it again—he was becoming it.
Then came the flickers. Images flashed through his mind—like shattered glass reforming.
A war-torn desert. A sky painted crimson. His hands holding a different blade. Another him. Another life. Another war.
Different clothes. Different enemies. The same unyielding conviction.
The same final slash.
He wasn't doing this for the first time.
Celestial Path: Activated.
A golden thread of light appeared, linking his eyes to the knight's exposed flank. His weak point—revealed at the perfect moment. The spell was a divine instinct—a miracle wrapped in steel.
The Celestial Path was not just a skill. It was prophecy. It was punishment. It was perfection.
A slash—
Faster than sound.
Stronger than the mountains.
Guided by fate.
The wind erupted, bursting outward like a hurricane. The knight's armor shattered in an explosion of metal shards. Trees behind him splintered into fragments. The earth cracked under the shockwave.
Silence followed.
Then a cough. The knight collapsed to his knees, bleeding heavily. His blade slipped from his hand, useless.
The Celestial Sword gleamed with pride. Its voice echoed in Hyunwoo's mind.
"I warned you to run... but I knew you wouldn't. You idiot."
Hyunwoo dropped to one knee, gasping. Every muscle screamed. His soul felt scorched. But he was alive.
And victorious.
The knight coughed blood. "You... You're not normal."
"No," Hyunwoo said, breathless. "I'm not."
The knight lowered his head. "I surrender. I've done many terrible things... but I cannot follow that man anymore."
"Flairan's father?"
He nodded weakly. "He orchestrated it all. The kidnappings, the black market trades... It was him. The children weren't stolen—they were sold. He trafficked them to humans... in exchange for demon blood."
Hyunwoo's eyes darkened. "Demon blood?"
The knight's voice grew bitter. "It makes you stronger. Unstoppable. But it devours you. It turns people into monsters—berserk beasts without minds. They lose everything. Rage becomes their only language."
"So you've been experimenting... on your own people?"
He nodded, ashamed. "We didn't have a choice. Those who refused disappeared. And when the princess rejected his son, he tried to silence her too. You were a threat... so he marked you for death. All of this... for power. For greed."
Hyunwoo clenched his fists. His vision flickered again—war, ruins, death, swords. Each flash another life. Another fight.
He didn't know everything.
But he knew this:
This wasn't his first .
He was more than a support. More than a hero.
A flicker of truth surged through him:
He had done this before.
A lot of question emerged
Before he could make sense of it, the sword's voice returned, firm.
"We need to move forward. No more hesitations."
He rose. His blade gleamed in the dappled forest light. The weight of truth was on his shoulders—but so was something else.
Conviction.
"I won't Lose" he whispered.
And this time, he meant it.