Chapter 6: Bad Luck

After healing himself, he was in good condition, A few minutes ago, he felt like he was death. he changed his clothes and was fully prepared to return to the Meyes family's palace. He quickly found a carriage that was heading from the mountain directly to the palace.

As the carriage passed through the capital, he gazed out at the streets, feeling a new sense of contentment. He now possessed power. He was no longer an ordinary man but a sorcerer. When he had left the palace, he had been just a commoner, a "nobody," even despised as a young master. But now, he was returning not only as a sorcerer but as the disciple of the most prominent sorcerer in the kingdom.

The carriage went directly to the gates of the Meyes' palace, where the guards immediately recognized him and opened the gates. As he stepped inside, a strange gust of wind blew toward him. The trees and plants seemed to wither as leaves were scattered in his direction, as if the world itself had turned against him. He felt an unsettling sensation, and dust particles irritated his eyes, forcing him to rub them. His vision was blurry, and though he couldn’t see clearly, he knew something was wrong. His instincts screamed at him to run, to flee from the place as quickly as possible.

The palace garden, which was normally bustling with servants tending to its vast expanse, was eerily deserted. The garden was overgrown and unkempt, as if no one had cared for it in weeks. His heart began to race; something was undeniably off, gnawing at his very core.

Suddenly, a series of notifications appeared before him—visible only to him.

[The reversed cursed is activated]

[The reversed cursed is sold to the luck]

[Luck has come to take his loan]

[You have nothing to offer]

[You have been reversed cursed with bad luck]

[You have lost your ability]

[12:00:00]

He was stunned by what he saw. A timer had started counting down, and it had already reached 11 hours and 59 minutes. He blurted out in confusion, "What the hell?" He felt trapped, unable to grasp what was happening or what these cryptic notifications meant.

"What the hell is a reverse curse?" he muttered to himself, his frustration mounting. The notification mentioned that the reverse curse had been sold back to "Luck." He wondered if "Luck" was a person and what kind of loan was being called in. The situation felt far beyond his understanding. "What is luck, anyway? Who is luck?"

More notifications appeared, one telling him he had nothing to offer. The realization hit him hard—he had nothing of value, no possession to give in exchange. And then, the final notification dropped the heaviest blow: he had been reverse-cursed with bad luck and would lose his abilities for 12 hours.

His mind raced with questions, but the ticking timer, now showing 11 hours and 56 minutes, kept him focused on the reality of his dire situation. Without his abilities, he was in grave danger. He needed answers. The idea of investigating this "reverse curse" crossed his mind, but in Asa Raybond’s memory, the persona he had got inheritance from, held no knowledge of such a curse. He was lost, unsure of his next move.

The next moment, a beautiful girl emerged from the palace. She was dressed in a maid's uniform, but he was certain such an elegant and striking woman could not possibly work here. He had been a debauchee in the past and had seen many of the most beautiful women in the capital. How had someone like her escaped his notice? It seemed impossible that he had no memory of her, no recollection of her face.

She was running toward him, radiating a charm that was hard to ignore. Her presence was captivating, and the maid's uniform clung to her as if it had been custom-made for her. The dress was finely designed and far superior to what the maids and servants usually wore in the palace. He caught her eyes for a brief moment but, frustratingly, couldn’t read her thoughts. His ability was blocked—thanks to the reverse curse. He had lost his powers.

The girl came closer, and though Darin had a flood of questions, he remained silent. She was clearly panicking; her body language betrayed her distress. When she finally reached him, her voice trembled as she spoke, "Young master, Fran has been locked inside the room. Barry is fighting a Heavenly Rank warrior, and the sons of the Barrar family are searching for your sister. You must do something, master!"

Darin was stunned. For a moment, he couldn’t find any words. His gaze remained locked on her; her beauty was the first thing that crossed his mind. But quickly, reality crashed down on him. His sister had locked herself away in fear of being caught by the Barrar family, and Barry was in a deadly battle with one of the kingdom's most formidable warriors—likely the head of the Barrar family. And the three sons of that family were hunting for his sister.

He took a deep breath, calming himself slightly. The fact that his sister had locked herself away was somewhat reassuring—she was safe for now. But the situation was dire, far worse than he could have imagined. He had entered the palace with newfound strength, but not nearly enough to defeat a Heavenly Rank warrior.

After gathering his thoughts and taking a few more breaths, he scanned the scene. The palace, usually filled with activity, was eerily quiet. There were no servants in the garden, and no one seemed to be around. They were all hiding or fleeing for their lives. The maid had told the truth, but Darin knew he needed more information. Regardless, one fact was clear: he was powerless, alone, and at the mercy of enemies far stronger than him.

"I should leave and save my life," Darin said, panic rising in his voice. He was on the verge of fleeing, but the maid grabbed his hand, pulling him back forcefully. She was far stronger than a mere maid should be. Her grip was firm, and she was adamant that he stay and help save his sister. "You can’t run away," she insisted, trying to drag him into the palace.

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"I should leave and save my life!" Darin repeated, resisting her pull. Just as they struggled, the main door of the palace burst open. Barry, battered and bloodied, flew through the doorway and crashed into the garden. He was gravely injured, barely conscious, his clothes torn and soaked with blood. It was clear he had fought a monstrous foe. Despite his condition, when Barry saw Darin, he gestured weakly for him to run.

Then, the Heavenly Rank warrior appeared at the entrance of the palace, clad in gleaming golden armor and wielding an expensive sword. His presence alone was overwhelming. This was no ordinary warrior; he was among the highest-ranked in the kingdom. One glance at him, and it was clear—this was a dangerous man, a force to be reckoned with.

As Darin considered fleeing, he suddenly felt the cold edge of a knife against his neck. It was the maid, just as he had suspected. He hadn’t even noticed when she moved—she was that fast. In an instant, he realized how powerless he was in front of her. She was a trained assassin, and his life was no longer in his own hands.

Meanwhile, the Heavenly Rank warrior stepped out of the palace and glanced at Barry, who lay half-dead on the ground. Then, he turned his gaze toward Darin, the young master of the Meyes family, a wicked smirk creeping across his face. The mere look from the warrior filled Darin with dread. He had never experienced so much pressure in his life—it was as if he were an ant standing before a lion. Now he understood why the Heavenly Rank warriors were so highly revered; their strength was beyond comprehension, and they carried an aura that crushed those around them.

The warrior ignored Barry and focused on Darin. His voice boomed, commanding everyone's attention. "I'll give you two options," he said, his sword pointed directly at Darin. "Either your sister marries into our family, and you give this entire estate as dowry, or we take your head and everything you own."

Darin's heart pounded. He looked at Barry, who was barely conscious, on the brink of death. The Heavenly Rank warrior, uninterested in further conflict, barked orders to the men of the Barrar family and began walking toward the gate. Darin exhaled a breath of relief, feeling some of the weight lift from his chest. The main threat was leaving. The warrior was going.

The sons of the Barrar family hurried after the Heavenly warrior. Though they were dressed in expensive attire, Darin could tell they were no warriors. They looked more like undisciplined hooligans. He could take them on easily if he had to. They lacked the strength, the skill, and the discipline of true fighters.

As they walked away, the maid tightened her grip on the knife and forced Darin to turn his neck, locking eyes with him. She pushed him closer, her gaze intense. "Don’t mind me," she whispered, her voice dripping with confidence. "I’m just a mercenary. My name is Ella. I could do the same for you, Master Darin. Call me anytime you want." She then struck a seductive pose, pocketed the knife back into her dress, and sauntered after the Barrar family.

Darin stood frozen, watching them leave through the palace gates. Finally, he let out another sigh of relief. As the group disappeared, the other maids and servants rushed out from their hiding places and immediately attended to Barry and the other injured staff. They worked quickly, administering healing and care, trying to restore some order to the chaos that had unfolded.

The gates of the palace were closed once again, and Darin approached Barry, checking his condition. He held Barry’s hand, using a bit of his healing ability in secret. To his surprise, Barry’s body was already healing at an astonishing rate, faster than Darin’s efforts could even influence. His friend was recovering without any outside help.

Barry was carefully lifted by the servants and taken inside to rest. Darin, however, remained standing there, his mind heavy with the weight of everything that had happened. He had narrowly escaped disaster, but the real problem had only just begun. He felt like things were going to get worse. Sitting in the office where his father once ruled the household, Darin felt the gravity of his situation. The Barrar family would return soon, and if he didn’t find a solution, the Meyes family estate would be lost forever.

His thoughts were interrupted by a servant handing him a letter. It had come from the Bank of Gold. Darin frowned, wondering what new trouble awaited him now. He thought everything had been settled with the bank, but something was clearly amiss.

They had no outstanding business with the Gold Bank of the capital. Every debt had been cleared. Darin frowned, wondering why the letter had arrived.

He called for a servant and asked about Barry.

"Barry is doing well, but he's severely injured and will need a lot of time to recover," the servant replied before leaving.

Darin glanced at the letter in his hand, thinking about Barry. Despite his injuries, Barry had fought valiantly against a Heavenly Rank warrior, an enemy far beyond his strength. Barry couldn’t defeat such a powerful opponent, but he had held his ground, proving himself an invaluable asset to the family. Darin was grateful for his bravery.

After the servant left, Darin opened the letter. His eyes widened in disbelief as he read it. The Gold Bank was claiming that the Meyes family owed a loan of 10,000 gold coins. This made no sense to him—he distinctly remembered that they had settled all their debts with the bank. The thought of being falsely accused enraged him. His blood boiled. How could the bank claim they still owed such a massive sum when all debts had been cleared?

Fuming, Darin tossed the letter aside and tried to calm himself. He reminded himself that, thanks to the reverse curse, bad luck had already taken hold of his life. He needed to think clearly about his next move. Should he leave the house and seek help from other families? No, that was too risky. It was safer to stay and wait, even though his options were limited. He glanced at the timer—there were still 8 hours and 45 minutes left before his powers returned.

Minutes passed, and a new notification appeared: he had been cursed with the "Curse of Health." Almost immediately, Darin felt a sharp pain surge through his body. It seemed to come out of nowhere. His muscles ached, his joints burned, and he felt as though his body was about to break apart. The curse of health was slowly taking its toll on him, and without his immunity to curses, the pain was unbearable.

Fatigue and heat spread through his body. Darin realized that no earthly medicine could help him; only holy magic could counter this curse. But holy magic wasn’t easily accessible. From Asa Raybond's memories, he knew the church had weak magic powers and wouldn't be able to lift the curse. Although the church wielded great influence over the common folk, they lacked the strength to contend with noble families and the royals. They could perform simple magic, but nothing that could save him now.

His thoughts turned to Asa Raybond herself. A renowned mage, she had left the capital long ago in search of greater power, choosing the path of sorcery over anything else. Her name was still known across the kingdom. Darin wondered just how powerful she had become after her relentless pursuit of strength. Perhaps she could help, but she was too far away, and time was not on his side.

While he pondered these thoughts, a mute servant placed food before him. Darin took a bite, but almost immediately, a notification popped up:

[Poison not nullified]

His heart sank. The food was poisoned—again. What was happening? Was everything conspiring against him? Fear crept in. Could he even survive the next 12 hours? He checked the timer again—7 hours and 36 minutes left.

He pushed the poisoned food aside and retreated to his room. Hungry and desperate, he rummaged around for something safe to eat and found a few fruits on his table. He devoured them, realizing they were the first bit of food he had managed to eat all day.

Afterward, Darin tried to distract himself by studying documents. He had barely started when he heard a loud crash, followed by shouting. Something had broken, and chaos was erupting once again.

The guards were in the midst of a fight. Darin, already overwhelmed by the day’s events, wanted nothing more than to avoid further trouble. He peered through the window and saw a group of people on horseback, armed with weapons. Their attire was rough and ragged—they didn’t appear to be nobles. Some wore armor, others tattered clothes.

Curious and wary, Darin went down to investigate. A servant quickly approached him, whispering that the intruders were members of the Red Horse, an infamous mercenary gang and a criminal organization. Darin’s heart sank. What could they want with him? He edged closer to the gate, where tension between the guards and the intruders was mounting. The Red Horse members looked unkempt, their clothes torn and their behavior crude.

One of them shouted, “He’s the one who killed Bronze!”

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Commments???

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