Why is Background Character the Strongest Now?

Chapter 3

The morning sun filtered through the trees as Ezra Celestrian sat cross-legged beneath the forest canopy.

Eyes closed. Breathing steady.

In his mind, he reached inward.

There it was.

Pulsing deep in his dantian, a swirling, radiant purple core.

"The Mythical Core… completely intact."

His body had no wounds. No scars. No lingering pain.

Whoever had brought him into this world… had healed him. Perfectly.

Ezra inhaled slowly and began circulating his mana, following the training embedded in his predecessor's memories.

It wasn't easy.

The mana was wild at first. Unruly. Disobedient.

But gradually—

It began to obey.

He trained for hours. Sweatless. Focused.

⸻

Eventually, he rose, refreshed, not even remotely hungry.

"So it's true. Awakeners can go without food or sleep for days."

He explored his surroundings.

The forest was unnaturally quiet.

No monsters. No sounds.

"Strange. Silent Forest is supposed to be crawling with beasts…"

"Maybe I'm lucky. Or maybe something's wrong."

Regardless, he continued training.

Later, he made his way to the river.

With a burst of mana, he caught several fish, cooked them using a lighter from his space ring, and changed into clean black clothes—shirt, trousers, and boots.

Among the items in his ring, he found a heavy pouch of gold coins—10,000.

He smiled slightly.

"Marcus gave me this… after that duel."

That fight was still a vivid memory. Ezra had won it clean, without using even half of his true strength.

⸻

Then he saw it.

A sword.

Plain. Steel forged, with no ornamentation except a purple gem embedded in the hilt. No sheath. Sharp edge, clean curve. Heavy grip.

Ezra held it naturally. As if it was an extension of himself.

He gave it a single, fluid swing.

Fwoosh—

A mechanical voice echoed in his head.

[Advanced Swordsmanship: 70% Mastery]

His eyes widened.

Another swing.

[Progress Increasing…]

"A passive tracker?"

He whispered: "Status Window."

A blue screen appeared before him.

⸻

[STATUS WINDOW]

Name: Ezra Von Celestrian

Age: 18

Lineage: Son of the Previous Sword Emperor

Core Rank: Mythical

Realm: Rank 3 (Beginner)

Traits:

• Polite Demeanor

• Calm in Any Situation

• Extreme Sword Talent

• Extreme Mana Talent

• Extreme Insight

Sword Arts Mastery:

• Advanced Swordsmanship (70%)

• Techniques: Crescent Moon (R3), Phantom Lotus (R3)

⸻

Ezra closed the window with a thought.

"This isn't a system. It doesn't guide or reward. It just tells me… who I am."

He focused on his Extreme Insight trait.

And the world changed.

The trees pulsed with mana.

The wind danced with energy.

Even the river shimmered in spectral threads of power.

But then—

Something massive was approaching.

A storm of mana. Dense. Pressing. Walking straight toward him.

"That's no monster…"

"That's a human… and a monster in human skin."

He turned to run. But

A hand gripped his shoulder.

Without hesitation, Ezra spun and slashed.

Mana surged through his legs. He leapt back mid-spin, kicking off the tree behind.

Sword ready. Calm breath.

Then he saw the man.

Tall. Broad. Muscular.

Hair black, beard thick.

Eyes sharp. Scar running from his left brow to jaw.

"Ren Kurogane…" Ezra whispered.

"The Sword Emperor."

One of humanity's strongest. A Rank 9. Rival of Dimitrus Ardent.

Ezra had seen his face in magazines, documentaries, and idolized him for years.

And now he was right in front of him.

⸻

Ren examined him with amusement.

"Good form. Good reaction time. That slash wasn't bad at all."

He glanced at Ezra's expression.

"Eighteen? Hmph. You're ahead of Elena Voncrest at that age."

Then his tone changed.

"But… you attacked me. Should I let that go?"

Ezra didn't flinch.

"If the great Sword Emperor wants to settle scores with teenagers, I'm ready."

Ren gave a toothy grin.

"Heh. You've got guts, I'll give you that."

He grabbed a tree branch—nothing more than a stick—and coated it with mana until it hummed with deadly sharpness.

"Let's see what you've got, kid."

⸻

The Duel Begins

Ren came at him like a predator.

Fast. Clean. Silent.

Ezra stepped back—not dodging randomly, but reading the angles of every swing.

Slash left—Ezra leaned away, the tip grazing his shirt.

Strike from above—he sidestepped and parried lightly, letting the force slide off.

Jab at his chest—Ezra ducked under, turned, and slashed low, missing Ren's leg by a breath.

Each strike, each dodge—pure, refined swordplay.

No spells. No techniques.

Just blade against blade.

"His movement… it's faster than anyone I've ever faced."

But Insight kept him alive.

Ezra saw patterns, gaps, flow.

He adapted every few seconds.

"But he's adapting too. He's starting to read me…"

Suddenly, Ren shifted his stance.

"He's going to feint—"

He faked left—then struck right.

Ezra barely blocked, blade screaming against branch.

He gritted his teeth. This was getting out of hand.

⸻

"I can't hold back anymore."

Purple mana erupted from his core.

"Crescent Moon!"

A glowing arc of mana cleaved forward.

Ren smiled, dodged. "Too slow."

Ezra smirked back.

"You sure?"

With Phantom Lotus, a Rank 3 movement art, Ezra vanished—

—And reappeared behind Ren, sword glowing, slashing straight down.

CRACK—!

Ren blocked again—snapping the branch in half.

But this time—

Ezra's strike had cut into the side of his coat.

A small tear. Nothing more.

But enough.

Ezra landed and steadied his breath, internally screaming from the pressure.

"I got him."

"Just once. But that's enough."

Ren stared at his broken branch.

Then—he laughed.

"Hahahahaha! Not bad, kid."

"You actually managed to nick me."

Ezra said nothing.

Ren stepped closer.

"What's your name?"

"Ezra Celestrian."

Ren blinked.

Then laughed again—this time softer.

"Celestrian… as in, him? The previous Sword Emperor?"

Ezra nodded. "Yes. Though no one remembers him anymore."

Ren looked serious for the first time.

"Kid… your father was my senior. The man who taught me swordmanship when I was younger."

Ezra blinked in surprise.

"He never told anyone he had a son."

Ezra looked away.

"My mother was just a normal human. They separated. We lived in the countryside."

Ren asked quietly. "What happened to her?"

"…She died. The same day my father did."

Ren fell silent. The wind rustled between them.

"You've been alone all this time?"

Ezra nodded.

Then Ren smiled again.

"Put away your sword."

Ezra obeyed, sliding it into his ring.

Ren folded his arms.

"Then listen carefully."

He looked Ezra dead in the eye.

"Become my student."

Ezra blinked.

"…What?"

Just as Ren's words echoed in the silent forest—

"Become my student."

Ezra blinked. "…But why me?"

Ren raised an eyebrow, as if Ezra had just asked the dumbest question on the planet.

"You don't know?" he said. "Should I explain it to you slowly?"

Ezra didn't respond—his shocked expression said enough.

Ren chuckled, running a hand through his wild black hair.

"Listen, kid. I've never met anyone as naturally talented with a sword as you. And besides—your father taught me swordsmanship. Technically, I'm his disciple."

He smirked. "So that makes me your uncle."

Ezra stared at him like he was seeing a street juggler pull coins out of his ears.

Ren sighed. "Fine, let me be serious for a second."

He stepped forward, his presence growing heavier—not just from mana, but authority.

"Become my successor. In return, I'll teach you everything I know. And not just that—I'll become your backer. With me behind you, no one will dare mess with you."

He paused, then added with a mischievous grin,

"Except me, of course."

Ezra's smile twitched.

'What kind of pitch is that?'

Still, he couldn't deny the offer was… tempting. No, overpowered.

'In the original novel, the protagonist Daelen becomes Ren's disciple and, with the help of his system, climbs from a D-rank core to an S-rank. He eventually inherits the title of Sword Emperor, earning the moniker—The Sword of Judgment.'

'Ren trained him relentlessly, yes… but also protected him from the likes of Dimitrus Ardent. Just having Ren as my master would keep that bastard off my back. At least for now.'

Ezra remembered Ren's death in the novel. He had slain both the Werewolf King and Vampire King solo, dying in the process. It was one of the most heroic ends in the story.

'That can't happen again. I won't let it.'

He made his decision.

Ren tapped his foot, impatient. "Hurry up, kid."

Ezra exhaled, then dropped to one knee.

"Disciple greets Master."

Ren grinned from ear to ear.

"Heh… good boy. Now get up, my dear disciple."

He gave Ezra a light slap on the shoulder.

"So, tell me. How the hell did you end up here?"

Ezra hesitated. For a moment, he considered telling Ren everything—that he was transported into this world, that Dimitrus had planned his death, that everything was connected.

But…

'Not yet.'

Instead, he crafted a lie based on the truth.

"I was training near the edge of the forest with my friend, Marcus Ardent. We were ambushed by vampires. To buy time, I lured them away and ran deeper… eventually ended up here."

Ren's expression shifted.

"Huh. I'd heard Marcus got attacked a while ago… You're saying that was two months ago?"

Ezra's heart skipped.

"Two… months?"

He was stunned.

'Two months already? That means the plot is far ahead. Daelen must have already formed his S-rank core. And soon… the academy field training will begin—the part where vampires and werewolves launch a joint attack.'

'Daelen wouldn't expect it. In the original story, that surprise attack killed dozens of students.'

He looked at Ren.

"This place… where exactly are we in the Silent Forest? And why haven't I seen a single monster here?"

Ren chuckled.

"That's simple. This part of the forest is my personal training ground."

Ezra blinked. "You're… training in the middle of Silent Forest?"

Ren nodded. "Best place to clear your mind. Monsters know better than to wander in."

Ezra stared at him blankly.

'This man is insane.'

But also powerful. And that was exactly what he needed.

Ren crossed his arms.

"So you know Marcus Ardent. That means you're an academy student, huh?"

He glanced down at Ezra, as if sizing him up.

"You planning to return? Or want to train here under me?"

Ezra went silent.

'Two months have passed… by now, Daelen and Marcus are both probably Peak Rank 2. Daelen must've awakened the Holy Sword already.'

'If I want to surpass them—not just catch up, but go beyond—I need to train. Adapt to this body. Push past its limits.'

He clenched his fists.

"Master, please train me here for the next four months. I'll return directly for the second semester."

Ren's grin widened.

"Good. That's what I like to hear."

He cracked his knuckles and picked up another branch, coating it in mana.

"Now prepare yourself. I'm going to train you so hard, you'll beg to fight monsters instead."

Ezra gave a dry, reluctant smile.

"Looking forward to it, Master."

'Four months…'

'In four months, I'll grow so strong even the main characters won't be able to catch up.'