There was an intrinsic thrill to conversations held through military tactics. Even without the grandeur of advanced technology like VR, merely moving fingers could evoke this feeling.
Reading an opponent’s breaths, tremors, and slight steps, discerning their thoughts, and breaking their moves—this series of processes—
Unlike ordinary conversations, there was a clear distinction between winners and losers in the outcome. There was a reason why men get thrilled by duels of honor.
Though I was no longer a man now. Ironically, I was only now experiencing the joy of dueling throughout my entire body.
The cheers of the audience reverberated through vibrations. Beyond my sight, a formidable opponent aimed for my neck. And in my hands were exceptional means of conversation.
My heart was pleasantly pounding.
And so, the first set.
I took my opponent by surprise and claimed the victory as a result. It probably wouldn’t work twice… Not against someone else, but against Orthodox. Considering the speed at which he learned when teaching him the 2-Underground… he might already have figured out my little trick just now.
But I hadn’t intended to use it twice in the first place.
The important thing was which character to choose next. Orthodox would probably… choose the warrior. Being one set away from elimination, people at the brink usually resort to the tools they’re most familiar with.
Recalling previous matches—he had favored the dual axes. Should I counter with a magic missile sorcerer?
However, I also had to consider the possibility of him bringing a rogue again. Against a rogue of Orthodox’s level… if that were the case, it would be better to metaphorically stretch my neck out right on the spot. I wasn’t keen on taking that reckless gamble. The time was too enjoyable to casually let a set slip away.
Countless thoughts were racing through my mind. What would be the most effective method? The build my opponent aimed for, anticipated traps, eliminated risks…
How could I win?
In my mind, running several times faster than usual, tens and hundreds of thoughts scattered like shrapnel from a bomb.
Accompanied by adrenaline I hadn’t felt even during the Untouchables tournament, which now felt so distant in memory, or the matches held just a few days prior.
Could I be someone surprisingly suited for the stage?
Perhaps.
Though it seemed an unlikely thought for someone who spent over a year hiding in a small fortress.
* * * *
“Alright, for the second set! Both players are ready. First, we have Orthodox. He’s bringing out the Rogue once again! It might be Orthodox’s last game in this tournament. He’s opted for the Rogue that brought him the championship, instead of his trademark Warrior!”
“Yes, this shows his confidence in the Rogue. Although he lost the mirror match earlier, he’s confident that he won’t be outmatched in a proper fight. Now, his opponent, GetDevoured- a Holy Knight! It’s a Holy Knight!”
“Indeed, this is what makes GetDevoured so formidable. You can never predict what she’ll bring out, which makes her traditional picks even more intimidating. A player who can throw curveballs makes their fastballs all the scarier!”
A peculiar sense of anticipation filled the audience.
Objectively speaking, it was hard to label GetDevoured as a mere amateur. She had clinched the top ranking amidst the pros at the end of last season. In this tournament, she had felled countless pros.
Yet, she remained an amateur.
The profession of a pro gamer had long been stagnant. Gone were the days when hidden masters would suddenly emerge as comets and dominate the professional scene. Talented kids started as trainees early on, creating a chasm between them and ordinary people through systematic training.
This was even truer for VR games, which demanded precise movements and stamina. Despite any adjustments, it’s ultimately a physical sport. The gap between those who play games for fun and those who train as a job was insurmountable.
An amateur might get lucky and beat a pro once or twice.
However, continuously winning in a series of tournaments was impossible.
And as romance is often associated with impossibility—
From the start of the round of 32, the number of people cheering for GetDevoured had exponentially increased. Before anyone knew it, more than half the audience was chanting her ID.
Considering that GP was one of the top three most popular teams, this was an unbelievable atmosphere.
“… This feels weird. It’s like our coach has become some obstacle that has to be overcome”, murmured one of the team members who had come to cheer for Orthodox, naturally expressing their dissatisfaction.
“He couldn’t care less about that kind of atmosphere. If he did, he wouldn’t have picked the Rogue… Look at his face. He looks like he’s having the time of his life.”
“I don’t get what’s so enjoyable about it. If he loses one more set, he’s out. And… Whatever, I don’t care anymore.”
The people involved hardly paid any attention.
-Woooahhh!!!
And the moment a near-naked Holy Knight appeared on the screen with the cheers of the crowd—Orthodox’s supporters found it hard to focus.
“… Holy Knight? So much for a standard pick… Didn’t that get a hotfix?”
“They adjusted the attack multiplier so it can no longer break walls… The build is theoretically still viable. It doesn’t pack the punch it used to, but it’s usable for one-shotting builds, so it should be fine. It’s just that… considering the triple greatsword knight’s characteristics, it was probably meant to target at least middle armor characters. The build ended up being countered by its opposite attribute. What should we do…”
“You’re sure you’re rooting for the coach, right?”
* * * *
Was it because the sword was so much larger than the usual weapons he faced?
It wasn’t easy to gauge the distance. Theoretically, according to his calculations, he should be just a hair’s breadth outside his opponent’s reach.
Yet, his instincts kept sounding the alarm, warning him of danger. It felt dangerous here, and even a couple of steps back still felt unsafe.
‘No, maybe it’s not about the distance.’
Beyond his line of sight, an uncustomized face of a basic Holy Knight stared at Orthodox from behind the sword. The visage, faithful to the character’s settings, appeared resolute and devout—truly fitting for a Holy Knight.
Could someone look so mismatched?
The GetDevoured Orthodox knew would, upon encountering a god, throw a dagger first without a second thought. If asked why, she’d likely say it was because a god would never expect a human to throw a dagger the moment they met, making it worth the attempt.
But surely, she would have researched myths about those who dared throw daggers at gods before doing so. To catch the enemy off guard, one must know their enemy better than anyone else.
GetDevoured was, surprisingly, the type to diligently research and analyze. With her physical prowess, it would be normal—even expected—to rely on her physical abilities. This was usually the case, in a sense.
There was a stark contrast to her usual broadcasts, showing that she was indeed an effort maker.
All of it was solely to do what the opponent couldn’t anticipate.
In some way, she was optimally designed for pure competition.
‘So—’
Surely she had analyzed Orthodox countless times too. To assure victory at the most unexpected moment, in the most hollowing manner. Just as she had done in the first set.
‘But this time.’
Somehow, if now, when he wielded the rogue, and GetDevoured wielded the greatsword knight—
The knight’s left foot moved. A sign that the time for unnecessary thoughts had ended.
Luckily, Orthodox’s body reacted faster than his mind, allowing him to avoid separation.
-Whoosh!
The sharp sound of air. A massive chunk of metal brushed past the top of his hastily ducked head. If he hadn’t crouched those extra few centimeters, he would have lost his head to that blow.
It was a heavy greatsword. It would take quite some time to retrieve the weapon after a single swing. This seemed like the perfect timing for a surprise counterattack with a dagger. By thrusting, he could cause a brief paralysis, and by linking a series of attacks, he could inflict significant damage to the unarmored knight.
So, he endured.
As Orthdox exhaled and readjusted his stance, he noticed the knight using the momentum of the greatsword’s swing to twist his body. It was a movement to dodge a predicted thrust.
He had read it. He hadn’t read it perfectly, but definitely read it. An emotion close to exhilaration filled Orthdox’s chest. Whether the opponent was an amateur, a woman—it didn’t matter.
A match was just a match.
The greatsword was pulled back significantly. It was a preparatory movement combined with an evasion, extending to the point where the sword’s tip nearly touched the ground.
However, without an attack to evade, it was just an obvious posture limiting the direction of the attack. In the blind spot of the attack. Swinging wide to the opposite direction of where the sword was pulled, he thrust his dagger this time—
—Thunk!
The satisfying feel of a clean hit tingled through his hand. In that moment, the lack of armor acted as her downfall. This single strike had decisively turned the tide of the battle by about 30%.
But he had no intention of letting his guard down. Orthdox kept his eyes fixed on the knight’s shoulder. The moment her shoulder started to twist, he reacted.
The greatsword was about to be swung. Given the angle he had confirmed earlier, if he dove to the bottom right, he could narrowly evade. By exposing a slight gap to lure the attack timing and succeeding at a precise dodge, he could then aim for the lower body and use his mobility—
However.
‘Too long.’
If things had gone as expected, he wouldn’t have had this much time to think.
Noticing something amiss too late, orthdox instinctively pushed off the ground, retreating. Feeling an inexplicable deficiency, he used his only survival skill without hesitation and retreated further—
He faced the greatsword rising from the ground. The battlefield of their clash. Though the snowy ground was frozen solid, it was still just snow. While the greatsword couldn’t penetrate walls or rocky surfaces anymore, it could easily cut through snow.
As the snow on the ground scattered and swirled around the knight who had raised his sword, his eyes pierced through the snowfall, staring intently at Orthdox.
Somehow, the image of that snow turning red kept surfacing in his mind. Orthdox suppressed the chilling sensation and readied his stance once again.