Round of 16 (2)

Judged with cold objectivity, Luce's skill still fell short of true world-class caliber.

Within the domestic league she stood at the undisputed summit, but the moment you widened the lens to a global scale, the picture changed entirely.

Of course, I believed Luce could climb far higher than where she stood now.

But that was only a matter of potential. Strip away the fan bias and speak honestly, and she was a solid upper-mid-tier player.

If she met Kelberos in the semifinals, her win rate would sit somewhere between twenty and thirty percent, wouldn't it?

But I had never liked Luce because she was the strongest player.

Not long ago, at a restaurant, I had mustered the courage to ask her something.

"There's something I've been curious about. Why did you want to become a pro gamer?"

"Hmm. I don't really remember what set me off. Even before the accident, I think I had a vague sense that a world like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this existed."

"……?"

"Surprising? But that's how it is, isn't it? Dreams don't need grand reasons. Once you've already started dreaming, what else can you do?"

Only after hearing her answer did I realize how stupid my question had been.

She was right. You don't need some magnificent reason to dream.

What had first drawn me to kendo, anyway?

If I had to pin it down, it was probably watching historical dramas with my parents.

I had been a little boy then, and something about the sword had struck me with an instinctive sense of cool.

A little later I realized kendo wasn't the art of swinging a real blade the way I'd imagined.

But it didn't matter.

By then I was already in too deep to stop.

"People say that when you fall in love, everything changes. That it's a feeling that arrives one day without reason and rewrites a person however it pleases."

"I still don't really understand it, though. I've never done it, after all. You can't know a feeling you've never felt."

"But the more I hear about love, the more something comes to mind. An emotion that irrational, that destructive…"

"Isn't a dream the same thing?"

The way she said it, smiling so brightly, was dazzling.

As someone who had once been soaked in a dream—and as someone who had begun to dream again—she was someone I couldn't help ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but admire.

……Anyway. Blink would make a solid practice opponent ahead of a match against Kelberos.

A first-string pro from the Japanese league. Whenever people listed Magic Knight players in Asia, his name was never left out.

If you were going to face Kelberos, preparing for Magic Knights was essential.

The battlefield draw did Luce no favors.

The Boiling Lava Zone was a map blanketed in searing heat from end to end. True to its name, molten lava coursed through the terrain, and every fire-attribute skill received a modest enhancement.

In other words, an environment that slightly favored a Magic Knight who could wield elemental magic.

And then there was the periodic lava flooding. Any gimmick that forced movement naturally favored the more mobile side—and while a Holy Knight wasn't without options, the number of cards each player held was simply different.

The casters were right—this was the first time she had drawn the flail in an official match. I was certain of it. I had watched every available recording of every match Luce had ever played.

In her personal streams, Luce was remarkably experimental. She practiced off-meta builds, weapons, and skills thoroughly enough that her meta adaptability ranked among the highest. But she never brought anything into an official match until it had been properly proven—so the weapons she had actually used in competition were surprisingly few.

The moment the two found each other, combat erupted.

The first move, naturally, belonged to the Magic Knight and his superior ranged harassment. A fiercely blazing spear of flame came hurtling in, and Luce charged forward with her shield raised. The spear struck the shield, left an explosion in its wake, and vanished.

Three spears. Then three more. And finally, a volley of fire arrows rained down from the sky.

Every spell was stopped by a stably held shield. But a Holy Knight's guard gauge was not infinite—and Blink's class was Magic Knight, not Mage.

She'll block it.

It was the Magic Knight's bread-and-butter approach: time a sword strike to the moment firepower is concentrated, and even solid defense struggles to hold. But Luce was not the kind of player who would fall for something that simple.

Of course, the Magic Knight would have prepared for what came next.

Brilliant holy light descended upon Luce. A brief invulnerability window. The sword strike was stopped dead—but a precisely timed spell followed right on its heels. Her answer was a rising wall of sacred light. The thick veil collided with the magic and opened a path.

She slammed her shield into the ground, spreading holy energy outward. Then she swung the flail at her slowed opponent.

The trajectory itself was perfect—but the weapon's own speed held her back.

Hmm. A regular mace really might have been better.

That last attack—if it had been a mace, would it have connected somehow? Even without a critical wound, landing a hit beat missing entirely.

On the blazing earth, holy magic and elemental magic collided. The outcome was obvious. Holy magic specialized in defense and support; fire magic specialized in raw destructive power. Factor in the battlefield bonus, and there was no contest.

The one silver lining was that a Holy Knight's magic resistance was vastly superior. For all the hits she was taking, Luce's health bar barely budged.

That didn't mean the situation was good.

The tide was slowly tipping. And yet Luce's gaze never wavered.

I checked the chat and the casters—everyone was talking about how badly she was losing. Luce always blocked her opponent's attacks in the optimal way. But blocking well and fighting well were not the same thing.

Specifically, she was losing the resource war. She was growing little by little, but Luce's fighting style still wasn't complete. Especially in situations like this—when the opponent held more tools—this slow death by attrition was a picture that came up fairly often.

Well, that was a common trait of the slower warrior-type classes in general.

She recovered her guard gauge with a Holy Knight unique skill. But the Magic Knight still had ample mana to spare. If she raised the shield, he simply had to make her drop it again.

Under the crossfire of magic and sword strikes, the shield quickly lost its strength. As if driving in the finishing nail, the Magic Knight aimed for Luce's midsection.

"Huh?"

And once again, I felt as though I'd been handed a gift.

The instant the flame-wreathed blade pierced her armor, Luce's flail coiled around the Magic Knight's arm in a spiraling bind.

A technique I knew intimately. The same trick I had used on Ripper during the group stage.

A Magic Knight had no instant survival skill like a Fog Mage's Mist Form. No class in Infinity Black came with only advantages. Magic required casting, and casting was interrupted by a certain threshold of damage. That was precisely why a Magic Knight had to be a thorough outfighter.

Getting bound like this was the worst-case scenario.

A massive shield came crashing down on the Magic Knight sprawled across the ground. Tower shield mass plus a Holy Knight's raw strength—power a Magic Knight could not withstand. Blink's health bar plummeted.

Still, the setup wasn't identical. I had been able to rebind with the Chain-Sickle multiple times, but Luce's flail could only loop once. Blink broke free of the restraint and tried to open distance again.

Luce did not allow it.

Let there be light—and light fell upon the battlefield.

Within the searing shafts of radiance, the Magic Knight could not escape far enough. If the light was divine punishment, the flail's iron head was mortal judgment.

A Magic Knight was not durable enough to take a solid mass of metal to the skull and live.