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Chapter 10 – A Fool's Smile
The day began with a blanket of silence, broken only by the whisper of wind weaving through the skeletal trees. Chester sat against a jagged boulder, legs crossed, fingers drumming against his knee as he stared into the air in front of him.
[Status Screen]
Pillar of Chance — Tier One
Rolls Available: 0 (Next reset: 2 Days)
Stored Rolls:
Ghost of a Skill – 1 use left
Decoy Luck – Stored
Sword of the Lord of Chance – MYTHICAL (Stored – Not Summoned)
Shadow Step – 1 use left (Copied from Marlo)
His eyes hovered on the last entry. That sword. That glorious, forbidden thing he still couldn't believe he rolled.
> "A mythical-tier weapon… the system itself bowed when it revealed the name. What kind of sword belongs to the Lord of Chance himself?"
His fingers itched to test it. Curiosity burned hotter than fear. He glanced around—his group was occupied a few meters away, trying to skin a mutated deer-like beast they'd taken down that morning.
Now was the time.
Moving quietly, he slipped away into the woods. Once deep enough to avoid being seen, he closed his eyes and summoned the sword.
A flash of radiant probability exploded in front of him—twisting threads of fate coalescing into a blade of pure entropy. The air around it distorted, as if it rejected definition.
It wasn't a sword made of metal. It was made of... possibility.
He held it in both hands, unable to stop smiling. His heart thundered in his chest like a gambler pulling the lever on a cosmic slot machine.
But just as he prepared to test it—
Crunch.
A faint footstep.
Chester stilled. He dropped the sword instantly—it vanished in a shimmer of unreality.
Through the trees, he saw a figure creeping through the underbrush—tall, lean, with spiked black hair and narrowed crimson eyes. A member of the Destruction Pillar.
> "Wasn't he part of the eastern group?"
The man muttered under his breath, "He said he'd be here. Said we'd talk about breaking them up from the inside. Where is that bastard?"
Chester blinked. His smile returned, slow and steady.
He stepped forward casually, hands behind his head. "Looking for someone?"
The Destruction user flinched, eyes snapping to Chester. "You!"
Then he ran.
Chester didn't chase him. He just stood there, watching the trees swallow the man whole. His smile widened.
> "So... a traitor, huh? Someone trying to play chess with dynamite pieces."
He turned back toward camp, whistling a tune like a jester returning from mischief. His fingers toyed with the hem of his sleeve.
"I already knew," he whispered to himself. "I've read the board ten moves ahead. Now I just have to keep playing the fool…"
His smile turned razor-sharp.
> "Until the FINALE