Holy Synergy and the Quadra Kill

The situation was dire. Even with an SS-rank player in the game, our bot duo had handed the enemy midlaner a double kill against C-rank—or possibly even SSS-rank—opponents. The resulting gap in numbers left us on the verge of surrendering the dragon as well. The tense, even matchup that had existed just moments ago was collapsing in an instant.

The Cerberus buff we had secured would only matter if we could actually pressure their turrets. If we got pushed out of lane entirely, it might as well not exist. That was why we absolutely could not afford to lose this dragon.

Still, even when the sky falls, there is always a way out. The Paladin’s skill set I had casually looked over before the game started might just be enough to flip this team fight. After checking it once more, I felt certain.

At first glance, the Paladin looked like a standard tank—reliable frontline with strong defense and some buffing capability, shining in prolonged fights but lacking mobility and range. Yet the more I examined the skill set, the higher I realized its potential truly was.

What if the Paladin’s Holy Power and Holy Blessing were applied to our damage dealers, then layered with the Priest’s Sacrifice and Sanctuary?

In theory, the Priest could cover the Paladin’s lack of mobility, granting our fed carries enough resistance to withstand even the fiercest enemy assault.

“First, draw some aggro near the dragon pit.”

“We need to stall as long as possible and prevent them from taking the dragon until our bot duo respawns.”

A few victory plans quickly formed in my head. I gave Bahamut the order, my voice filled with conviction.

“Understood.”

Whether he sensed my determination or not, Bahamut—who had seemed halfway to giving up—began actively disrupting the enemy using the Paladin’s tanking power. The enemy Illusionist and Demon Hunter couldn’t ignore it and shifted their focus to the Paladin, delaying the dragon burst.

They were probably planning to burst the Paladin down quickly, then refocus on the dragon.

“I’ll heal you, so dodge the skills a little longer and hold on. Save your ultimate for now.”

With the Priest’s intervention, the Paladin’s health stabilized. As a result, the enemy shifted their focus from the tank to the much easier-to-kill Priest. But the Priest’s godlike movement and perfect skill usage let every attack slide right past, making it impossible to find a clean kill angle.

From the enemy’s perspective, the dragon fight had turned into a complete stall—both the burst timing and their focused fire were delayed.

“The marksman and support will be here soon. Dump every buff ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you have on the marksman.”

I planned to funnel every buff to the incoming carry and rekindle his competitive spirit just enough to make him pop off.

The marksman had been bickering with the support, but the moment he respawned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he sprinted straight toward the dragon pit. From our team’s perspective, every enemy except their assassin—the Demon Hunter, Illusionist, and Berserker—had their eyes locked on the Priest and Paladin.

While the skill aggro stayed on us, we would create a free-damage window for our marksman.

Even after using every defensive measure we had, the moment the Paladin’s health dropped below one-eighth, our marksman used his leap to jump over the wall and join the fight at the last possible second.

He immediately ran into the enemy assassin lurking behind the low-health dragon. The assassin landed a skilled combo, dropping the marksman below half health. But then the Paladin and Priest showered him with every buff available—attack power, defense, and movement speed all amplified. In a burst of overwhelming damage, the marksman melted the assassin on the spot.

The enemies, having lost a core damage dealer in seconds, panicked. They tried to finish off the low-health dragon, but the moment they took their eyes off our fully-buffed marksman, their deaths were only a matter of time.

The Outlaw’s gun then turned toward the enemy Demon Hunter. At that exact moment—

The enemy marksman’s counterattack had begun. Unlike the Berserker or Illusionist, the Demon Hunter never wavered in focus. As the last major threat—and the one who had just taken down our Paladin—his assault was ferocious.

With our solid frontline gone and Sanctuary’s duration nearly over, even if our support arrived late, the duel between the two marksmen would likely be decided by then. From my perspective, with my own health completely drained, retreating seemed like the most rational choice.

Our support seemed to share the same judgment. There was no reason to continue fighting when we had already gained the advantage. But the marksman clearly had other ideas. He closed the distance, stepping into the range of the retreating enemies just as we began to pull away.

The enemy marksman fired a perfectly aimed black arrow, striking our Outlaw—who only had half his health left. If our marksman died here, the advantage we had just earned would be completely canceled out by the enemy marksman claiming another shutdown bounty. The momentum would swing back to them just like before.

“Ha…”

I let out a small sigh and began planning for the next fight—right as it happened.

Even though his own skills were on cooldown, our marksman avoided every single attack with dazzling movement and superhuman reflexes, taking down the enemy marksman in one clean exchange.

“Huh…?”

“Oh…”

Bahamut must have been genuinely shocked; a rare sound of admiration ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slipped out over the otherwise quiet microphone.

The play had been executed with too much certainty to be mere luck. For the first time, I felt a spark of interest in our marksman.

“...That was a true high-risk, high-reward play. Fortunately, it ended on the high-reward side.”

By my standards it had been an incredibly gamble-heavy play that I wouldn’t normally approve of. But in my memories, CSkiller had always been exactly like his name—a conservative marksman who only took safe CS and ended up losing. Seeing this aggressive side of him was surprising.

The instantaneous judgment and fight sense he had just displayed could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with any of the top marksmen I had seen in my previous life.

Plus, it’s not like this is just any normal solo queue. The first year after the pro league launched, solo queue wasn’t really “solo queue” at all…

Of course, the game itself wasn’t over yet, so I set those thoughts aside for now and focused on finishing the match.

With the support finally arriving, we took the dragon, then used the powerful synergy between the Cerberus and dragon buffs to demolish every single one of the enemy’s first-tier turrets. Even in the team fights involving the Demon King, our now-scaled bot lane created such a massive gap in power that the game began to snowball heavily in our favor.

The enemy fought desperately even as all their turrets fell and their base came under attack. But once the individual lane gaps grew too large, they could only flail helplessly against a single Paladin marching forward wrapped in every buff imaginable.

The dominant macro play centered around mid lane, combined with our marksman’s aggressive pressure, created a synergy they simply couldn’t handle. In the end, their base was destroyed.

I allowed myself a small satisfied smile while looking at the result screen. My macro and playstyle were clearly working extremely well at this world’s pro level.

The moment the game ended, friend requests flooded in—from Bahamut, whom I had been watching closely, to our marksman CSkiller, and even ZX’s support Starlight. There were so many that I briefly wondered if I was somehow playing in the celestial server instead of a normal match.

Naturally, the chat window exploded at the sight.