Chapter 80: Triumph in Chaos: Han Yurim’s Ultimate Gambit

Pyeon Murang drank some water. His throat was a bit hoarse from all the shouting.

Park Jun, the caster, spoke in an excited tone.

“Wow, what an incredible match that was!”

“Where else could you witness such a game? Only here at the Elympics! It was truly one-of-a-kind.”

The first set seemed to follow the expected flow as both teams went with standard strategies.

But in the second set, MirinaeNoinjeong completely switched things up with their ban-pick strategy.

They brought in a lineup stacked with seemingly invincible characters.

“Like the classic JRPG cliché where an otherwise useless sword ends up being fatal to the final boss, this seemingly suboptimal team composition turned out to be incredibly effective against the Asegu team. It left quite an impression.”

Even Pyeon Murang wasn’t entirely sure why this lineup was so effective against Asegu.

However, as the game progressed, he managed to piece together a theory.

“It seems like even the incredible physical prowess of Chae Narin has its limits.”

“Wow, really? Is that even possible?”

“Well, in the end, eSports is all about intense focus in the moment. It’s a unique discipline that stands apart from other mind sports like Go or chess. So, yeah, situations like this can happen.”

Because of that shift, Asegu, which was down 1-2, managed to stage a comeback and tie the score at 2-2, thanks to an unexpected breakthrough.

“They really are a team where the underdog saves the day. Who could’ve predicted ChocoPpang would take down the enemy’s main carry at that moment?”

ChocoPpang, who typically played with a high ping in the 500s, suddenly performed as if they were on a normal ping, shocking not just the opponents but even their own teammate, Moss.

This allowed Han Yurim’s Ormal to relentlessly take down the enemy’s main carry, which caused the game to spiral out of control.

The current score stood at 2-2.

The winner would be determined in the next and final game.

“What do you think about the upcoming ban-pick phase?”

“Well, logically, they might choose Ormal again since it produced good results, but tournaments don’t always follow that kind of predictable pattern.”

“Alright, the ban-pick phase is starting. Oh, look at that.”

“It’s Thierry.”

Of course.

When push comes to shove, you naturally turn to your most reliable partner.

The Asegu team selected their signature lineup: Thierry, Ishikawa Yuzuru, and Marvin Flyle.

On the other hand, the opposing team’s picks were entirely different.

“These are compositions we often see in tournaments, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Ultimately, there’s more than one way to extend teamfight duration.”

The enemy team built a classic formation with a strong front line of tanks, a main carry, and a city-core duo in the backline.

To top it off, they added a utility support for additional stability.

It was the epitome of a standard composition—predictable, yet incredibly difficult to counter when executed well.

“It seems they’ve done their calculations. Their strategy boils down to this: ‘We don’t need an extreme composition; we can handle this just fine.’ This is the beauty of multi-set matches—you get to see how initial ideas evolve over time.”

MirinaeNoinjeong’s lineup was an all-in teamfight composition with scouts, guardians, and solo flankers, all tanky.

The downside of this setup was clear:

The scout and solo flanker couldn’t properly fulfill their essential roles.

A scout’s primary job is to suppress the enemy’s main carry, but using a tank character made it difficult to do so effectively.

Sure, they could match the carry in growth, but outpacing them? That was impossible for any team.

This is why, at the professional level, scouts aren’t typically given tank roles. But this was the Elympics.

MirinaeNoinjeong boldly assigned their scout to a tank role because they knew the enemy’s main carry was essentially a kamikaze pilot that would inevitably die within six seconds.

“The ban-pick phase is over. What’s your take on the lineups?”

“Both sides have viable strategies. Given the team compositions, Asegu has the upper hand in the early game, but MirinaeNoinjeong will dominate if the game drags on.”

In simpler terms, Asegu had the advantage if the game ended quickly, while MirinaeNoinjeong thrived in the late game.

At first glance, it seemed like both teams had an equal shot, but Pyeon Murang believed MirinaeNoinjeong had a significant edge.

Because in most tournaments, the fifth set always dragged into the late game.

Paepae took a deep breath, controlling his beast companion.

The current kill score was 1:1.

If this were the early game, such a score could be attributed to intense back-and-forth skirmishes.

However, the game had reached the 19-minute mark.

The score suggested that both teams had essentially been sleepwalking through the match.

Not that Paepae was slacking—this was entirely due to the enemy team’s strategy.

“Come back!”

“Grrrrr.”

Paepae ground his teeth as he watched the enemy scout escape.

By the 19-minute mark, scouts weren’t supposed to even meet the gaze of a main carry, yet this one brazenly stole objectives and walked away unscathed.

If Paepae were the main carry, he would’ve dismantled the scout the moment they stepped into his territory.

Unfortunately, he was the support, and his main carry was nothing more than a beast.

Even though he desperately wanted to retaliate, he couldn’t.

Chae Narin, who had picked Kwon Sua, had a peak focus duration of six seconds.

In that short window, it was nearly impossible to kill a tank unless you were an incredibly fed main carry.

Because of this, the enemy’s tank scout was boldly stealing objectives and ignoring both Paepae and Chae Narin.

This wasn’t a normal dynamic.

In any other scenario, a main carry might struggle to kill a tank quickly, but once engaged, the tank would be pummeled without mercy.

A tank should never be able to kill a carry in this timeframe.

Ten seconds. No, nine seconds of focused damage from Chae Narin would be enough to kill that tank.

It was so frustrating.

Han Yurim was the only one who had grown exceptionally by monopolizing the objects, but judging by the team’s situation, it didn’t seem like that alone could secure a victory.

How were they supposed to win with a main carry who could only attack for six seconds during a team fight before getting obliterated?

Paepae still hadn’t found an answer to that question.

The timer hit 19 minutes and 30 seconds.

Soon, the Tier 2 object, [Floating Spire], would appear.

The [Floating Spire] was an incredibly powerful object. It required cautious handling.

You couldn’t touch it unless you had secured vision and won the team fight beforehand.

“Everyone, gather at the [Floating Spire].”

“What?”

Han Yurim suddenly gave that order.

It wasn’t uncommon to see players take the Tier 2 object precisely at the 20-minute mark, but only when there was a solid reason to do so.

Attempting to claim a Tier 2 object while the power balance was this skewed would only result in the entire team being wiped out.

Especially since they hadn’t even secured vision.

Though the order seemed incomprehensible, Paepae obediently complied.

No matter how strange the main caller’s instructions were, you had to follow them.

That was the basic rule of team games.

“Hold on a second.”

Han Yurim halted the team near the [Floating Spire].

It was to delay their detection by enemy CCTVs for as long as possible.

As soon as Paepae heard the order, they realized what Han Yurim was aiming for: an ambush object burst.

But could this even work?

They’d still get caught by enemy CCTVs as soon as they entered the [Floating Spire] area.

“Let’s go.”

At Han Yurim’s command, Paepae ran toward the [Floating Spire], activating a supporter-exclusive item.

As expected, the nearby CCTVs lit up.

“The CCTV is on.”

Han Yurim gave a subtle nod at Paepae’s words. Immediately after—

[The master of the Floating Spire has appeared.]

The Tier 2 object had spawned in the game.

“Burst it!”

With Han Yurim leading the charge, the entire team unleashed their skills on the object.

Not long after, the enemy was detected on the CCTV that had been set up nearby.

“They’re here!”

“Ignore them and burst it!”

At this rate, the team fight setup was terrible.

They had lost too much health, and their formation was falling apart.

Even if they managed to claim the object, losing the subsequent team fight would be detrimental.

Han Yurim surely understood this.

Despite that, she had made this choice because she saw a path to victory at the end of it.

She had to.

-Vroooom.

The sound of the enemy guardian’s ultimate echoed.

Han Yurim shouted, “Chae Narin! Go and die!”

It was an absurd order, telling the main carry to sacrifice herself, but Chae Narin moved like a machine, as if she’d been programmed to do so.

The enemy guardian’s battle car, intended to hit the entire team, ended up striking only Chae Narin.

Was “absurd” the right word to describe it?

After all, Chae Narin died pointlessly because of it.

“Everyone, die! Die!”

The urgency shortened the command, but the message was clear.

The order was to throw themselves at the enemy one by one to delay their advance.

Paepae, checking the remaining health of the Tier 2 object, charged at the enemy.

Bunnyrun, Moss, ChocoPpang, and Paepae all rushed at the enemy.

One by one, allies fell, stalling the enemy’s approach.

It seemed like it would’ve been better to just fight a full team battle instead, but Paepae shook off the doubt, gritted their teeth, and delayed the enemy as much as possible.

At the same time—

[The master of the Floating Spire has been defeated.]

A message appeared in midair.

The [Floating Spire] dropped its item, [Source of Transcendence].

The last hit, and thus the item, belonged to Han Yurim.

[Source of Transcendence] could be used to create exclusive items.

Thierry’s exclusive item was [Element of the Source].

Its effect allowed the user to add a [virtual element] of their choice to their skill list.

But still…

How would you possibly overturn a 6:2 situation with just some virtual element?

How?

Han Yurim selected a virtual element.

A purple light briefly enveloped her body before vanishing.

Could it be…?

Was she really going to do that?

Han Yurim placed her hand on the ground.

Then—

Purple energy spread in all directions—

[Your ally’s corpse has been resurrected.]

The miraculous event that had just occurred was the ultimate skill of the virtual element [Void].

The mechanism of [Void] was straightforward, as it was a concept that had been introduced multiple times before.

It temporarily resurrected allies and allowed the user to control them for battle.

Simply put, it was identical to Thierry’s water element ultimate skill, [Doppelgänger], but on a larger scale.

The problem was that even controlling one clone with [Doppelgänger] was notoriously difficult.

Controlling multiple clones?

It was the kind of difficulty that would make anyone say, “These devs were too lazy to properly test this skill.”

But.

Paepae quietly loaded their skills, trusting the team leader.

As if responding to that trust, Bunnyrun and ChocoPpang took the frontline.

Paepae supported them, while Han Yurim and Chae Narin took positions on the side.

Moss, who moved independently to exploit enemy gaps, was a bonus.

Paepae let out a dry laugh. Even in the middle of the match, they couldn’t help it.

The ideal vision of Iron Saves the World, the ultimate form achieved when everyone reached their peak performance—

Was now being realized by Han Yurim alone.

ChocoPpang raised his hand, perfectly timing his initiation skill.

Simultaneously, Han Yurim and Chae Narin charged at the enemy.

“Controlling five characters simultaneously is still tough. If Paepae had died, we would’ve lost for sure.”

“Monster.”

“By focusing on the main carry, urban core, and outer solo positions while letting the others act as meat shields using skills, we won the team fight. This is why <Eternal World> is such a great game. It distinguishes between support and carry positions so well.”

“Monster.”

Eternal Olympics. Finals.

Final set score: 3:2.

The champions:

‘Iron Saves the World.’