Cursed to Luck: My Ability Brings Misfortune Only to Me?

The damp forest air carried the scent of wet earth and decay. Rune trudged behind the sage, still mulling over their last conversation when a heavy presence made his skin prickle.

A deep grunt. The sound of something massive shifting through the undergrowth.

The sage stopped, muttering under his breath. "Of course. Just my luck."

A hulking orc pushed through the trees, its yellowed eyes locking onto them. It exhaled loudly, gripping a rusted axe with hands the size of Rune's head.

Rune stiffened. His instincts screamed at him to run, but the sage only sighed.

"Annoying."

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a worn tome, flipping it open with one hand. A sleek pen shimmered into existence between his fingers.

Rune barely registered what he was seeing. A pen? What was he going to do—write at it?

Then, the sage dragged the pen through the air. A faint glow traced his movements, and Rune felt a sudden shift in the air around them.

"Watch closely. This is a Veil Signature."

The ground beneath the orc shuddered. Then—without warning—a spike of earth shot up, impaling the creature clean through the chest.

Rune's breath hitched. The orc barely made a sound before its body twitched, then slumped forward, lifeless.

He didn't move. Didn't blink.

One moment, the monster had been there, ready to tear them apart. The next, it was dead—effortlessly, instantly.

The sage exhaled, shutting his tome with a quiet thud. Tch. I'm getting too old for this. My Veil Signature really gives me a massive headache. He rubbed his temple before shaking his head.

Rune's fingers curled into fists. He had no words for what he had just seen. No explanation for how something like that was even possible.

But he burned it into his memory. The way the sage moved, the way the world itself seemed to obey his will.

The pen vanished as if it had never existed. The sage dusted off his hands. "That's dealt with. Let's move."

Rune followed, still silent.

The questions would come later.

For now, all he could do was try to understand.

As they moved through the thick underbrush, the forest grew denser, the trees crowding in on them. Rune followed the sage, but something in the air had changed.

The sage stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing. For the first time, Rune saw a serious expression on his face. A bead of sweat ran down his temple.

"We're lost."

Rune blinked. "What?"

The sage sighed and wiped his forehead, still staring ahead with a tense expression.

Rune's face stayed completely flat, almost unnervingly so. After a long pause, he deadpanned, "Are you serious?"

The sage looked over at him, still sweat-drenched, his face unchanging. It was like a comedic contrast—the sage looking entirely out of his depth while Rune's face was deadpan, like a complete contrast of seriousness.

They stood there for a beat.

"...Yes, I'm serious."

Rune looked at him for a moment, his brows knitting together, before his frustration took over. "Can't you use your goddamn veil writing or whatever to get us out of here?"

The sage shot him an irritated look. "It's Veil Signature. And no, my signature isn't some goddamn GPS, alright?!"

Rune sighed, arms crossed. "Great. I'm stuck with a lost old man."

The sage glared at him. "Kid, don't test me today."

They both stood there in a brief silence, the tension broken by the absurdity of it all.

The two of them stood there for a few moments, the air thick with tension. Rune crossed his arms, observing the surroundings as the sage wiped sweat from his brow.

Rune wasn't just standing there idly; he was scanning the environment with a keen eye. He noticed the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the trees leaned, and the faint slope of the ground beneath them. He could tell they were going in circles.

After a moment of silence, Rune calmly pointed ahead. "That way."

The sage looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "You sure?"

Rune just nodded, his expression unchanged. "Yeah. We've been going in circles. Trust me."

The sage stared at him, disbelief creeping into his voice. "Alright, village boy. Lead the way, then."

They walked in the direction Rune had pointed. Slowly, the trees began to thin, the air grew fresher, and Rune could sense the clearing ahead. Finally, they emerged from the dense forest.

The sage took a deep breath, glancing around with a mixture of surprise and relief. "Well, I'll be damned. You were right."

Rune didn't acknowledge the sage's praise. He simply looked at him, a small cringe forming on his face.

The sage raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Rune deadpanned, "You just have an insanely terrible sense of direction."

The sage's expression shifted slightly, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Oh? You think so?" He crossed his arms, his voice laced with annoyance. "Maybe you should remember who got us out of that mess."

Rune, unfazed, shrugged. "I just have better instincts than you."

The sage stared at him for a second, then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Tch. You're lucky you've got some use, kid. Keep it up, and I might start thinking you know what you're doing."

Rune rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I didn't need to lead the way. You just needed to admit you were lost."

The sage huffed, clearly annoyed but hiding it behind a smirk. "Fine. Fine. You can rub it in later, village boy."