Chapter 75: Unexpected Power: The Iron-Tier Comeback

Eternal World Olympic Commentary: Round of 16

Starting from the Round of 16, the games were accompanied by live commentary.

However, due to multiple matches taking place simultaneously, not all games were broadcasted—only those selected by the organizers, presumably the ones expected to draw higher viewership.

“Hello, this is caster Park Joon.”

“And I’m analyst Pyeon Murang.”

“The response to this year’s Eternal World Olympics has been tremendous! Thank you all for your continued support.”

“I think this excitement comes from the passion of the players reaching the viewers. With so many three-way ties in second place, this tournament has been one of the most fiercely competitive in history.”

Commentators often embellish their words—it’s part of the job.

For example, if a player made a rookie mistake that even a Bronze rank wouldn’t commit and got themselves killed, the most straightforward remark would be: “They died doing something stupid.”

But you can’t say that on an official broadcast.

Instead, commentators spin it into something like, “The opponent capitalized on an opportunity,” or, “They tried to bait but underestimated the damage output.”

The same applied to the abundance of three-way ties.

While it might sound like a fiercely competitive tournament, the reality was different.

A slew of three-way ties also meant there were many undefeated teams.

Sure, having strong teams made for entertaining matches, but this didn’t exactly scream “balanced competition.”

While the quarterfinals and beyond—where weaker teams are eliminated—promised a more balanced showdown, the current stage wasn’t quite there yet.

Regardless, commentary is a job that comes with many challenges.

“Team ‘IronSavestheWorld,’ led by Team Leader Han Yurim, versus Team ‘Cotton Candy Huru,’ led by Team Leader Krem. What are your thoughts on this matchup?”

“These are interesting teams. Especially ‘IronSavestheWorld,’ often abbreviated as Iron World, which many consider a strong contender for the championship. They’re led by two powerhouses: Paepae, a renowned amateur player, and Han Yurim, a rising superstar. With both achieving Challenger rank #1, expectations are understandably high.”

As Pyeon Murang spoke, a thought crossed his mind: commentary often involves a lot of wordplay.

It was true that many viewers considered Iron World a strong contender.

But that didn’t mean the team was actually strong.

In fact, it was the opposite. Iron World was an underdog—a relatively weak team.

This was because they had two Iron-ranked players on their roster.

As someone with extensive experience in Eternal World and commentary, Pyeon Murang knew better than anyone what kind of players Iron ranks were.

Iron-ranked players weren’t just “bad” at Eternal World—they struggled with the basic controls of VR gaming.

And this team had two of them.

He could guarantee that it wouldn’t work out. Not only that, but one of the Iron players had been given the critical role of main carry.

The results were predictable.

Even if Han Yurim went on a rampage, solo-killing opponents and showcasing extraordinary gameplay, would they win?

Her efforts would be in vain as the enemies effortlessly farmed the Iron players for growth.

Even if the Iron players managed not to die early, the question remained: could they contribute even a little in team fights? Or survive, at the very least?

There’s an old adage in team-based strategy games: “You can carry with a bad teammate, but you can’t win with one who doesn’t play.”

While the Iron players might try their best in this team setting, the problem was that their efforts weren’t much better than doing nothing at all.

Still, Pyeon Murang wasn’t lying outright.

Commentators don’t lie—they just omit parts of the truth.

As he said, Iron World was indeed an intriguing team.

Watching Han Yurim struggle to carry two Iron players was undoubtedly entertaining for the audience—just not in the way they might have expected.

“The ban-pick phase has begun. Oh, they left Thierry open? Even I, as a caster, know that Han Yurim is a famous Thierry specialist. What do you think, Mr. Pyeon?”

“Well, Thierry has always been a topic of much debate. Some argue that it’s theoretically strong, while others liken its effectiveness to saying, ‘If you can run 100 meters in 5 seconds, you won’t be late.’ I think this is about testing the waters. After all, the Round of 16 is a best-of-three, and just because something works in solo queue doesn’t mean it’ll succeed in a tournament setting.”

As the match began, the observer camera alternated between various perspectives before focusing on the Iron player, ChocoFullPpang.

Pyeon Murang’s expression shifted to one of mild interest.

‘They’re optimizing growth decently.’

Iron players typically had numerous flaws.

Beyond the well-known issues of game sense and mechanical control, their biggest problem, in Pyeon Murang’s opinion, was their lack of understanding of the game itself.

They didn’t know how to secure objectives or manage resources.

As a result, their growth would stagnate, regardless of whether 10 or 20 minutes had passed.

But ChocoFullPpang seemed to have a grasp of the basics.

‘Still, why are their movements so awkward?’

Even their walking was clunky, making it hard to watch.

Could they even handle combat like this? Probably not.

…Wait, is that why they picked Messian?

A sudden realization struck Pyeon Murang, and he felt the urge to facepalm.

Messian, inspired by druids, was the epitome of a “click-to-play” character, with mostly targeted abilities that required minimal control.

While its performance was underwhelming and demanded precise timing to be effective, it was still a far better choice than giving them a stylish character like Noah Beaver.

ChocoFullPpang partnered with their team scout, Moss, to disrupt the enemy’s mid-city.

Under Moss’s guidance, they secured objectives and engaged in skirmishes, giving Pyeon Murang a clearer picture of their skill level.

‘Bronze… maybe?’

It was puzzling.

Their skill usage timing suggested they knew the correct windows to act but failed to execute them properly.

What did that mean?

Even Pyeon Murang wasn’t entirely sure.

The best explanation was that they understood the timing in theory but couldn’t translate it into practice.

Their delayed skill timings often led to near disasters, so it was hard to give them high marks.

But one thing was certain—this player wasn’t Iron.

Iron wasn’t just late with skill timing—he didn’t use any skills at all. This allowed the enemy’s main carry to secure two kills early in the game.

‘Better than expected?’

No one knew where they’d found someone like this, but with Iron upgraded to Bronze level, the “IronSavesTheWorld” team’s winning odds improved significantly.

Of course, the improvement only went from “miraculous win” odds to “barely winnable if Han Yurim performed a record-breaking carry show.”

Still, having Iron as the team’s main carry—a core aspect of Eternal World—meant there was no real chance for the “IronSavesTheWorld” team.

While they were lucky to recruit ChocoFullPpang, it was unlikely Chae Narin would turn out to be a similar success.

Even if they’d somehow managed to find someone decent, at best, Chae Narin would probably be Bronze level.

Unless Paepae was made the main carry and Chae Narin moved to the support role, the current team composition put “IronSavesTheWorld” at a severe disadvantage.

Having a weak damage dealer was a significant setback in Eternal World.

At that moment, the observer’s camera focused on “IronSavesTheWorld’s” main carry.

Chae Narin was attacking an objective.

A sigh escaped at first glance.

You can tell a skilled player just by their movements.

The same goes for a poor player.

Just watching how they handled objectives gave away their skill level.

Using skills haphazardly and landing attacks carelessly—it looked like they were gaming while half-asleep.

In reality, it was as if Paepae was the one feeding the objective.

While the early game typically relies heavily on support players, this was taking it too far.

If it was this bad now, what would happen during a team fight?

The outcome was obvious.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

Next to him, Park Jun, the caster, exclaimed.

The scout and guardian of the “CottonCandyHuru” team were about to ambush Chae Narin and Paepae.

The “CottonCandyHuru” team specialized in snowballing the early game to dominate their matches.

Their early-game snowballing core—the scout and guardian—were Challenger and Master tier, respectively, making them extremely formidable.

Even though Paepae was at the peak of Challenger rank, facing Challenger and Master-tier players while carrying an Iron-ranked teammate, and even as a support, was a steep challenge.

The “CottonCandyHuru” team’s scout moved in.

ShadowPhantom. A classic ninja character beloved by scout players.

Trailing behind ShadowPhantom was “CottonCandyHuru’s” guardian, Noah Bever. Although a recent hotfix had toned him down, he remained a solid pick often seen in tournaments.

In contrast, “IronSavesTheWorld’s” main carry was Cheon Seoa.

Cheon Seoa was a classic melee damage dealer—a consistently strong pick in tournaments.

That is, if the player was skilled.

Like most melee damage dealers, Cheon Seoa was especially demanding to play.

All her damage-dealing skills required precise combos with basic attacks.

So, one had to wonder—why would they give such a difficult character to an Iron-tier player?

Apparently, it wasn’t just Pyeon Murang who thought so.

The “CottonCandyHuru” scout didn’t hesitate and blatantly used a skill on Chae Narin.

ShadowPhantom’s hook lashed through the air.

Slash! Blood sprayed from Chae Narin’s body.

Without even dodging, Chae Narin took the full brunt of the skill. Her health plummeted instantly.

Pyeon Murang sighed inwardly.

Taking ShadowPhantom’s hook directly was practically throwing the game.

Sure enough, ShadowPhantom closed the gap to Chae Narin in an instant using the hook.

Simultaneously, his Shinobi Katana was already drawn, slicing through the air.

What came next was painfully predictable.

ShadowPhantom’s blade would ruthlessly carve up Chae Narin, leaving the game in ruins—

Clang!

A parry sound. The unexpected sound effect made Pyeon Murang’s eyes widen.

And then—

Smash!

ShadowPhantom’s head shattered.

For a moment, silence filled the broadcast booth, the game, and even the chat window.

What just happened?

Pyeon Murang’s mind blanked as if hit with a blue screen.

The scene was so unexpected it defied comprehension.

[Han Yurim Double Kill]

[Han Yurim Triple Kill]

While messages of Han Yurim’s rampage flooded the screen, Pyeon Murang couldn’t take his eyes off what had just transpired.

Han Yurim’s carry performance was already expected—there wasn’t a soul unaware of her exceptional skills.

But for Chae Narin, an Iron-tier player, to kill a Challenger in return? No one had seen that coming.

The screen switched, replaying the earlier skirmish from Chae Narin’s perspective.

Slash. The hook struck home, and ShadowPhantom lunged at Chae Narin.

How did she manage that parry?

A fluke?

Was it even possible to parry a ShadowPhantom’s high-speed attack by sheer coincidence?

Players aren’t AIs—their attack trajectories vary each time.

With bated breath, Pyeon Murang awaited the next scene.

Okay, let’s see how the parry happened—

“Chae Narin! Bite!”

“Grrr!”

Clang! Whoosh! Smash!

Chae Narin’s staff deflected the Shinobi Katana, smoothly followed by a decisive blow to ShadowPhantom’s head.

“…?”

But Pyeon Murang frowned.

Yes, it was impressive.

But combined with the in-game voice commands…

It felt… strange?

Something felt off.

[Han Yurim Multi-Kill!] [Han Yurim Rampaging!]

“IronSavesTheWorld” vs. “CottonCandyHuru”

Game 1.

“IronSavesTheWorld,” victory.