Group Stage (6)
The Mist Giant's hammer came screaming through the air.
A heavy impact cracked against a tree, and splinters sprayed across my collar before falling away.
The giant was already winding up for a second strike, aimed straight at me.
Dodging it wasn't hard.
Ripper couldn't have expected me to just stand there and take something like that.
Even so, the fact that he'd thrown such a massive, crude skill meant he was trying to pin my attention for even a second.
Lost him. Couldn't get the angle of view.
Unfortunately, this time Ripper had succeeded.
He really was exceptional at manipulating vision.
I'd tried to keep my eyes on him even while dodging the hammer, but the giant's body filled my field of view and cost me the initiative.
Thankfully, I didn't need to waste time hunting for him.
No matter how thoroughly the mist blanketed my sight, it couldn't hide a shadow.
I read the shadow on the ground and estimated his position.
Faster than expected. If I waited until I had a clear visual, I'd be too late.
I swung my dagger on pure reflex and caught the blade. The defense wasn't perfect, so my hand took a little damage.
But the situation didn't look bad.
Even the best player in the world struggles to recover their stance midair.
I reset faster than he did, and my body moved with mechanical precision.
I switched my grip on the dagger and carved a glancing cut downward.
The blade opened Ripper's thigh and sprayed red.
I went for a second strike without settling for one, but he wasn't about to give me that much.
The body that had been solid a moment ago dissolved like smoke.
His most troublesome survival skill. Mist Form had just come off cooldown.
Sufficient blood has gathered within the mist. Blood Mist is now active.
All senses are slightly reduced. Take damage equal to 1% of max HP every 3 seconds.
The mist around me flushed red.
Hit notifications kept climbing my health bar as if I were under a constant barrage of lethal attacks.
So this was it. This was why everyone who'd faced Ripper before had lost their composure.
Heightened vigilance. Animal panic.
The red light from every direction and the endless hit sounds made it hard to stay cold.
The dulled senses probably weren't helping either.
With Ripper nowhere in sight, I was left fighting an enemy that existed only in my own paranoia.
"Hoo… hah."
First, regulate the breathing.
I didn't need a full deep breath. I didn't have that kind of luxury.
But holding a steady rhythm still helped a great deal psychologically.
The important thing was not to rush.
Defeat is sealed the moment your composure breaks.
I knew that better than anyone.
Fortunately, the next attack came from inside my field of view.
The claws on both his arms came at different targets, as if forcing me to choose one.
The entry angles and the intent behind them were genuinely threatening. But answering an opponent's question with an unexpected reply — that was the real joy of combat.
I blocked one side with the dagger and accepted a little damage on the other.
The blade tore through my side as it passed. I'd pulled my body back as far as I could, and it still cut deep.
Fine. Manageable.
Whatever I'd just taken, I'd take back with interest.
I didn't let the arm that had gone past me slip free. I clamped it tight under my armpit.
I'd practiced this moment over and over.
I loosened the chain in my grip just enough and wound it around Ripper's arm.
Once wasn't enough, so twice. A little time left — three times.
Mist Form still had a long cooldown. Bound this tight, he wasn't getting out easily.
I clenched the blood-slick chain-turned-noose in my fist.
Ripper let out a breath of genuine admiration.
"As expected — your weapon work is hardly that of an ordinary player."
"I'm good at everything, really."
Mistmancer shared some of a mage's traits as a class.
In other words, when it came to physical stats, I held a clear advantage.
I hauled hard on the chain and dragged Ripper's body straight toward me.
I changed direction mid-pull and slammed him into one of the dense forest trees, dumping every active skill whose cooldown had come back without holding anything in reserve.
Just like when I'd first faced the mist — once I secured the situation, I was the one holding more cards.
Ancient Demon's Curse has been applied to the enemy.
All of the enemy's stats…
I hadn't even finished unloading everything when Ripper made his decision.
A claw turned toward the arm the chain had bound.
If he cut his own arm, the severing judgment would trigger, and he'd slip free of the restraint.
His thinking had already reached the conclusion that there was no path to victory like this.
I was of the same mind.
I respected the judgment that, even at a disadvantage, cut straight to the optimal answer.
Which was exactly why I had no intention of letting him go.
I yanked the chain hard and closed the distance.
My body surged forward at a speed past the point of stopping.
Ripper twisted the claw's trajectory as if he'd been waiting for it, and aimed at me.
Meaning the counter had been in his head the moment things went wrong.
Good. I'd never dreamed of subduing him without taking a risk anyway.
As I closed in, I swapped the weapons in both hands.
The hand holding the dagger seized the chain and pulled; the other took the dagger in turn.
"Kh…!"
The instant our bodies locked together, the claw's blade forced its way into my abdomen.
A critical wound — pain so sharp it choked the breath out of me. But there was still more than enough room before death.
With the hand still hauling the chain, I wound it around Ripper's remaining arm as well.
One arm didn't have the strength to pin both of an enemy's hands.
I made up the difference by driving my whole body into him.
His arms locked between my arm and my chest, fixed solid.
The blade churned through my insides as if trying to force more damage — I ignored it.
Ripper's claws couldn't move anymore. I still had one free dagger.
While I carved up the body that had become open territory, Ripper went limp.
A de facto declaration of surrender.
The boy grinned.
"Losing a melee even like this… Mistmancer really isn't going to cut it."
"Right? Bring an Assassin next game."
"Yes. I will."
Infinity Black's official caster.
Ho-eun had called countless matches over the years.
His voice had become so familiar to eSports fans that it was practically part of the furniture.
His trademark was calm, clean delivery — but every so often, white-hot emotion broke through.
Like right now.
"She's got him! Ga-wol has Ripper's arm locked down with the chain!"
"That shuts down the Mistmancer's Tide Crossing! She's basically saying it out loud — you don't have Mist Form! How are you getting out of this?!"
"She's squeezing every last drop out of the opening she forced! No pause, no mercy — just relentless pressure!"
Whether it was his influence or not, the analysts on either side of him started climbing in tension as well.
Acid Gaming. And Ripper.
Those names had reigned as a nightmare over the Korean league.
Korea's two great teams were Luce's Sigma eSports and Traveler's Q Prime.
And last year, Luce had fallen to Kelberos, Traveler to Ripper — both leaving bitter results behind.
No. It wasn't a problem that ended with last year.
Korea had been rated a weak side in international competition for a long time.
It had been that way even before Infinity Black launched.
Ho-eun had been captivated by the eSports world since the old days, and that fire still hadn't gone out.
"Ga-wol charging straight into Ripper! A little impatient there?"
"Ah… Ripper's counter lands clean."
"No! What is this?! She's completely locked him down — Ga-wol!"
"The health bar has stopped dropping. Full control! Now she just has to finish the match!"
Back when he'd first set foot in the industry, Korea had been the undisputed home of eSports.
That glory was nowhere to be found now — but it had been real once.
Ho-eun still hadn't let that era go.
A short exchange between the two players.
Then the screen filled with the blue light of Victory.
He must have seen that screen countless times.
And yet, somehow, to Ho-eun it felt like a signal flare.
"One clean strike to the unprotected throat — and that's the match!"
"Ga-wol takes down London's Nightmare, Europe's Shadow — Ripper's Mistmancer — in a straight fight, and claims the first win!"
A cast with a little more flesh on it than usual.
But something still felt incomplete.
His chest was tight. There was more he needed to say.
When he could no longer hold the feeling down, Ho-eun seized the mic and shouted.
Even among pro gamers, Assassin was the hardest role to develop.
Because the transcendent speed belonged to the character — not the player.
Maintaining an Assassin's mobility while keeping delicate control intact was never easy.
And to have a real sense for combat on top of that… of course it demanded enormous talent and effort.
That was why other countries ran youth systems on the back of massive populations or capital.
Korea was short on both resources.
"That's right. There is no mountain in this world that cannot be climbed, and impossibility itself does not exist. Isn't that why sports are so thrilling — because you never know what result will come, or when?"
"A result no one predicted. And the quality of the match was excellent too. We'll have to see the next game to be sure, but one thing is clear — Ga-wol's potential is beyond anything we imagined."
Ho-eun's instinct left a whisper in the back of his mind.
The same instinct that had once served him as a pro gamer — and, later, as a coach.
Something enormous was coming.