After my stylishly stinky victory in the opening match, I rolled calmly back to the edge of the arena.
But the atmosphere had shifted.
Whispers buzzed through the crowd, and the other contestants were no longer looking at me with disdain… but caution.
> "That golem is too weird…"
"How did he even win that?"
"That's not a normal golem… he STINKS."
One of the commentators even stood up—a three-eyed bird monster—shouting toward the judges:
> "Check golem 143-B! There's something off about how he fights! Who taught him stink tactics?!"
I just kept rolling slowly, radiating calm… and vapor.
Meanwhile, below the stands, I overheard a voice.
Not a normal spectator—tall, thin, cloaked in deep purple—speaking to what looked like a tournament official:
> "If that truly is the 'living curse egg', I want him watched.
Send in someone with high-level magic."
I didn't get a clear look at their face.
But one thing was obvious—I was getting the kind of attention I *didn't* want.
---
**Second Duel**
> [Participants 143-B and 166-D, please step forward.]
This time, the arena felt colder.
Not because of the weather—but because of my opponent.
Siloren, an ice mage from the North.
A monster wrapped in a snowy cloak, rumored to freeze a creature's blood in five seconds flat.
"So you're the weird golem, huh?" he said with a frosty voice. "Let me melt you down."
> "Wrong recipe, bro," I replied casually.
> "I'm not made of stone. I eat cold guys like you for breakfast."
"So even golems can be cocky," he muttered, raising his ice staff.
---
**Battle Start!**
The bell rang—and Siloren wasted no time.
He launched a rain of ice spears straight at me.
I rolled in my usual zigzag pattern—but this time, the air chilled fast.
The floor turned slick, and frost formed on my shell.
I needed something—something hot.
> [Connection to Fire Crystal... Stable.]
> [Emergency Skill: Ember Roll – Activated.]
My body heated up.
Not true flames, but enough to scorch the thin ice coating me.
I ignited—and then—
ROLLED EVEN FASTER!
Fire and foul stench combined into a weapon that made absolutely no sense.
Siloren tried to block—but he only delayed the inevitable.
BONK!
Right to the side of his head.
It looked like he got rammed by a sulfur-smelling goat stampede.
---
> [Winner: Participant 143-B!]
The audience fell silent… then burst into wild cheers.
Not just because I won—but because my fighting style was completely unpredictable.
> "He caught fire—and kept rolling!"
"That wasn't magic… that was a way of life!"
"Maybe… that golem is the living legend we all thought was just a joke…"
I rolled back to the edge of the arena.
The kids stared at me in awe.
"So Dad can use magic now?" asked Oyen, eyes sparkling.
"A bit. Still random. I'll keep working on it.
But more importantly…"
I stood tall with pride.
"This stinky lifestyle... is still undefeated."
---
That night, behind the arena, the cloaked figure spoke again, voice low:
> "Interesting… he's started using magic.
If he keeps winning, we can't let him escape."
And just like that, the threat became real…
While the tournament had only just begun.