Second Qualifiers (2)

Streamer Sulbbang.

A warrior of solid build lay sprawled out in the middle of an open field. Clouds drifted lazily across a brilliant blue sky — and so did the cruel system messages floating overhead.

All things considered, it was a solid run. The players who made it into the final phase were mostly monsters whose names alone carried weight. For a regular streamer like Sulbbang, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the ceiling had been obvious for a while now.

And once the overseas gamers started showing up, it only got worse. Bizarre metas from every corner of the world. All kinds of monsters. He'd been thoroughly, joyfully demolished.

So the fact that he'd been eliminated wasn't surprising in the slightest.

"Man… guys. I really hit a wall this time. What am I supposed to do?"

"No, it's not about 'since when.' I genuinely thought I was good enough to hang, you know? Fine — Silphy's good. That person's incredible. I admit it."

But his pride had been shattered.

It wasn't that he'd overestimated his own skill by some outrageous margin. Those monsters whose names alone were enough. Watching them play, you started to wonder whether they were even the same species. In front of people like that, Sulbbang felt infinitely small.

And yet he was still a top-tier streamer in his own right. When it came to greatsword warriors in Korea, he was confident his name was one of the first that came to mind.

At least until overseas gamers beat the dust out of him.

"Was I really just a frog in a well? Was I nothing more than a speck of dust this whole time? How am I supposed to get better from here? I'm feeling so disillusioned right now, guys."

"Don't! Don't show me! Look, I'm sorry. Yeah. I was being pathetic. Let's figure out what to do going forward."

Sulbbang dismissed the system messages. Looking at the solid pile of rewards that had come in, he felt his mood lift a little. He heaved himself up from the ground — but nothing particular had appeared for him to do.

He'd planned to take his time deciding while reading the chat mood.

Then, right on cue, his messenger chimed.

"Hold on. Just got a message from Elderin. She's asking if a call is okay? Should I call her right now?"

"Yes, loud and clear. I'm streaming right now, by the way. What's up?"

Sulbbang went silent for a moment. The greatsword warrior froze like a broken robot, then pressed hard against his throbbing brow. Under normal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠circumstances he would have fired something back — but he decided against it, knowing Elderin wasn't that kind of person.

She wasn't the type to call just to mess with him. And it absolutely was not because she was a woman.

Probably.

"I got… eliminated. Yeah."

"Nope. Nothing scheduled, really. I was thinking about jumping into some raids."

"Co-cast? Hmm, if you're fine with me, sure. Whose match are we casting? Honestly, I'm not really at the level to commentate on pro gamers…"

"Uh… Ga-wol as in the Ga-wol I know? The assassin who PKs people out in the field?"

"Me?"

"Casting that?"

"Why…? Am I being threatened right now? Is Ga-wol hiding nearby?"

No. There was no reason for her to be hiding near him.

Sulbbang's head spun into confusion.

The appointed time arrived.

I couldn't figure out why I was so nervous over something like this. My heart kept acting up the entire time I checked my gear.

In the corner of the screen, the viewer counts climbed. Elderin's had just broken a thousand, and Sulbbang's had pushed past eight hundred. Even at a glance, the rate of increase was anything but ordinary.

Was this really okay?

It all felt strangely unreal. If I sat still, the anxiety would show on my face — so I idly spun a dagger between my fingers for no good reason.

I'd only let my mind wander for a moment, and the viewer count had climbed again. All kinds of people would be in there. Some out of curiosity, others carrying hostility.

I knew I had no right to hope for anything — but was there anyone among them rooting for me?

Hard to say. Honestly, I'd racked up too much bad karma.

"Heh…"

There it was. A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.

I set aside my curiosity and closed both of their streams. From here on, it was time to focus purely on the fight.

Call it the meddling of fate. From the battlefield itself to the matchup and even my opponent's nickname — nothing about this felt coincidental.

Duelist's Corridor was a battlefield of wide, long hallways with no obstacles. Designed exclusively for 1v1 in ranked play, it stripped away every nuisance and left only raw skill. A map where ambush play was impossible — so I'd stripped out every stealth-oriented trait and skill.

Instead, I'd built around shadow skills and pure combat. My opponent was a swordsman either way. No hard counter — just a matchup where the better player won.

And if it was Camellia of Sigma Esports — she was a rising prospect out of their second-string league.

If I was going to face someone from Sigma, I'd have preferred Luce.

No. These were still the qualifiers. If we were going to meet, better to do it on a bigger stage.