The chains sealed them in.
Iron links wove into a dome around the battlefield, glowing with molten script. Sparks leapt off the walls like fireflies, humming with system authority.
[ Second Scenario Sub-Objective: Establish Dominance. ]
[ Duel Engaged. Participants: Yoo Seong-wu vs. Cha Hae-won. ]
[ Rule: Victory is absolute. Witnesses are bound to watch. ]
Arin slammed her palms against the barrier. "No! Stop this! There's no need to—"
Her voice was swallowed by the rattle of links. The dome shut tight, leaving only two inside.
Seong-wu drew his golden blade, its edge glowing with borrowed divinity. "This was always inevitable." His voice was calm, measured. Too calm. "The system cannot sustain two protagonists. One of us has to fall."
Hae-won clenched his trembling hand around his cracked sword. His breaths came ragged, his chest tight with the weight of five hundred lives pressing down. "Then fall, Seong-wu."
Their auras clashed before their blades did.
Golden stability surged forward, a tide of order, polished and flawless. Black ink-fire coiled around Hae-won, jagged, unstable, flickering between brilliance and collapse.
And then steel met steel.
The clash was deafening. Sparks scattered into the chains above, and the impact shook the stone floor.
Seong-wu pressed forward with calculated precision—every strike a line traced by the Narrator who had chosen him. His footwork was perfect, his aura unbroken, his blade never hesitating.
Hae-won fought like a wound torn open. His swings were uneven, his timing ragged—yet each movement hid a memory. A death.
A blade cut through his ribs. A spear pierced his lung. A Titan's claw crushed his skull.
He carried them, and he threw them back.
Seong-wu staggered as one of Hae-won's feints twisted into a strike from an angle that should've been impossible. Blood welled across his cheek.
His eyes narrowed. "You're not fighting me—you're fighting phantoms."
Hae-won's grin split bloody, teeth bared. "And they've all killed me before."
The air howled as they collided again, faster, harder. Seong-wu's golden aura shone brighter, pushing Hae-won back step by step. Each strike felt like judgment, like the weight of heaven trying to erase instability.
Chains rattled louder with every blow, as though feeding on their clash.
Arin screamed from outside, her fists raw from pounding against the dome. "Hae-won! Stop before you—"
Do-hyun gritted his teeth, eyes darting between them. "He can't. Neither of them can. The system won't let them stop."
Another clash. Another spray of sparks.
Seong-wu kicked Hae-won's blade wide and thrust his golden edge straight toward his throat.
Time slowed.
For the briefest instant, Hae-won saw the outcome—his death number 504.
But he rewrote it.
Ink-fire roared along his sword. He shifted—not in speed, not in strength, but in possibility. The blade that should've pierced him instead scraped past his collar, biting only skin.
He turned the missed strike into an opening. His sword slammed into Seong-wu's wrist.
The golden blade flew from Seong-wu's hand, clattering against the stone floor.
Silence fell.
Seong-wu staggered back, clutching his wrist, his golden aura flickering weakly. For the first time, his perfection cracked.
Gasps echoed outside the dome. Even Ha-young, ever smirking, looked stunned.
Hae-won lowered his sword, his body trembling, his vision swimming with fractures of insanity. But his voice came out steady.
"Your Narrator can't save you from me."
Seong-wu's glare burned hotter than his fading aura. He stood, weaponless, chest heaving, eyes locked on Hae-won as though the duel hadn't ended.
But it had.
The chains rattled once. Then twice.
And the system spoke.
[ Duel of Chains: Concluded. ]
[ Pending Verdict. ]
The dome flickered, waiting to finalize the result.
Hae-won exhaled a shuddering breath, blood dripping from his side, sword shaking in his hand. He hadn't killed him. Not yet.
But for the first time, Seong-wu had been forced to kneel.
⸻
The dome of chains still pulsed with unfinished judgment, holding the outcome just beyond reach. The system was hesitating.
For both of them knew—this was not truly over.
And when the verdict came, it would change everything.