The Chronicle of the Beginning and Climax

Chapter 25 – The Reflection's Judgment

The golden blade in Jihwan's grip pulsed with an unfamiliar weight, yet it felt as if it had always belonged in his hands. It wasn't just a weapon—it was a narrative given form, a story yet to be written.

The Reflection stood motionless, its gaze locked onto the shimmering blade. For a fleeting moment, Jihwan thought it hesitated. But then, the cold emptiness in its eyes returned.

And it moved.

Faster.

Jihwan barely had time to react before the Reflection's palm struck his blade. A shockwave erupted between them, sending cracks splintering through the ground beneath their feet. The sheer force knocked Jihwan back, but he gritted his teeth, digging his heels into the fractured floor.

He swung.

The conceptual blade sliced through the air—a perfect arc of golden light—but the Reflection twisted its body unnaturally, evading the strike with inhuman precision. It wasn't just fast. It was predicting him.

Jihwan cursed under his breath. This wasn't an ordinary opponent. It wasn't bound by physical limitations.

He needed to think differently.

He flipped another page in the golden book. The words rearranged themselves, forming new commands.

[Skill Activated: Narrative Acceleration – "The World Moves in My Story."]

The moment the text solidified, the entire battlefield slowed. The dust in the air moved sluggishly, and the Reflection's movements dulled.

Jihwan felt it—time bending to his will.

Taking advantage of the opening, he lunged. His blade shimmered, cutting through the distorted air, and this time—

It connected.

A deep gash tore through the Reflection's torso, its form flickering like a disrupted image. A strange sound echoed from it—not pain, not anger, but something hollow.

Jihwan's victory was short-lived.

The Reflection didn't bleed.

Instead, it reached out, gripping the edge of the wound—and tore itself apart.

Jihwan's breath caught in his throat as the Reflection split into two identical versions of itself, each identical to him, each radiating the same ominous aura.

"The Reader of the Beginning does not belong in the Middle."

Their voices overlapped, ringing in his skull like a chime of fate.

Then, they attacked together.

Jihwan barely managed to raise his blade in time. One Reflection struck from above, forcing him to block, while the other slid behind him in an instant.

A hand closed around his throat.

Damn.

Before he could react, he was lifted off the ground.

His vision blurred. His lungs screamed for air.

The grip tightened, an unspoken judgment hanging in the air.

Was this it? Was this how his story ended?

No.

Something deep inside him resisted.

He wasn't just a character in someone else's book.

He was the reader.

And readers decided how the story played out.

With his remaining strength, he forced the golden book open once more. This time, he didn't read—he rewrote.

The words burned as they formed.

[Narrative Rewrite: "The Reader Cannot Be Held."]

The effect was instantaneous.

The Reflection's grip shattered like glass. Jihwan fell, twisting midair, and drove his blade forward.

The strike landed square in the Reflection's chest. This time, it didn't flicker. It didn't split apart.

It screamed.

The world around them trembled. Cracks formed in the sky itself, as if reality was breaking apart.

Jihwan didn't hesitate. He pushed the blade deeper, forcing the story to bend to his will.

And then—

The Reflection vanished.

Jihwan landed hard, gasping for breath, his body shaking. It was over.

Or so he thought.

Because the golden book was still open.

And new words had begun to write themselves.

[You have slain "The Reflection of the Climax."]

[The Path of the Climax begins.]

Jihwan's pulse stilled.

This wasn't victory.

This was the beginning of something much worse.