A Vicious Counter

The matchup between an Illusionist and a Rune Mage, when both sides had just hit level three in a pure skill contest with no items involved, was roughly fifty-fifty. It was a delicate balance born from the Illusionist's strong early-game presence clashing perfectly against the Rune Mage's natural counters to that very archetype.

"...Not easy at all."

Still, if the Rune Mage managed to drag the game safely into the late phase, their power would snowball exponentially. In contrast, the Illusionist tended to fall off hard in the late game and even became vulnerable to the Rune Mage's kit. Stepping back from simple laning theory and looking at the bigger picture, the Rune Mage stood to gain simply by trading skills or wasting time in this skirmish.

'In that case... I'll just twist the board completely.'

There was no doubt the current situation looked far more favorable for the Rune Mage. But the picture my opponent was painting was about to be thoroughly ruined by the Illusionist's passive and a well-timed trick.

The enemy Rune Mage didn't seem to have read my intentions. He was focused entirely on blocking my approach, already channeling his ultimate—Meteor—right at the entrance to the bottom lane.

I pretended to use my clone summon and passive to escape the Meteor's range, then suddenly forced the clone to cast an illusion. The clone immediately vanished the moment it took damage, as expected.

I was yanked straight back into the Meteor's radius. Even the legendary peak-form Hades couldn't dodge that surprise hit with simple movement. If my main body could just chain another illusion onto the one the clone had landed, I might even have a kill ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠threat.

With roughly four seconds left before the Meteor fell, the moment the Illusionist fired a black orb, the Rune Mage used Leap to instantly escape the illusion's range. He was clearly aiming for a guaranteed follow-up between Artificial Black Hole and Meteor.

Of course, the instant I saw the cast animation, I reacted with my own Leap. I slipped out of the black hole's range and slightly twisted the trajectory of my flying illusion, landing a second one directly on the Rune Mage.

The now-rooted Rune Mage had become prey for the Illusionist's ultimate—Nightmare.

And so the game opened with Hades' first blood.

My teammates were all busy being impressed. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠They couldn't believe I'd beaten Hades one-on-one with pure skill—and done it pretty comfortably at that. For the enemy, this was a nightmare start. What should have been a safe, scaling composition now had both "safe" and "scaling" under serious threat.

After that, I seized control of the mid lane, which gave me the freedom to roam and influence other parts of the map. The enemy swordsman, who had swapped lanes, began crumbling under repeated bottom-lane dives.

Meanwhile, our berserker was holding up decently thanks to his solid defense, sometimes even trading kills. The gap between the teams naturally widened.

TIME: 11m 27s

In the following objective fights, the enemy team—whose composition hadn't come online yet—had no answers. They ended up handing over both Cerberus and Wyvern without any meaningful trades.

To make matters worse, my well-fed Illusionist even roamed top and cleaned up the enemy bot duo for another double kill. The game was now completely locked down. From the opponent's perspective, the Illusionist's growth had become impossible to handle.

The risk of the bot duo trying to take even a little advantage in top lane was far too high with the constant threat of an Illusionist gank. So when they finally returned to the bottom lane to reset the wave...

The full combo from the Illusionist, Demon Hunter, and Commander slammed into the Pirate. As a immobile long-range carry without any dashes, the Pirate had no way to dodge the incoming burst while his Leap was still on cooldown.

Although the Rune Mage rushed in for backup and prevented us from killing the Necromancer as well, the fact that even Hades looked completely lost in the face of our blistering tempo told everyone just how hard the game had snowballed.

With the enemy constantly avoiding fights and trying to play for a slow, grinding macro game, my teammates started chatting casually in team chat while we maintained pressure.

I was genuinely grateful for the praise. I also understood that their situation in AVL must be pretty bad if they were indirectly shouting "our mid is trash" and "please come to AVL mid" in a solo queue game.

"Still... AVL is a bit much for me..."

It wasn't like I had zero responsibility for what happened to AVL in my previous life, and it was true that both Hwarang and Oblivion had performed amazingly well when I played with them. But honestly, I just hated the name AVL itself. It had been the biggest stain on my professional career, after all.

Thinking about how I'd smiled a little earlier seeing AVL sitting in ninth place on the regular season standings, only to feel complicated emotions because of memories with my old teammates... it really was a love-hate relationship.

Returning to the game state, the gold gap had widened past four thousand and we were already looking at the late game.

"At this point, it'd be weird if we lost, right?"

No matter how much the enemy had to say in the late game, their swordsman would struggle to exert influence in a 4v4 teamfight, and he was weak against chained crowd control. Their bot lane was already half-destroyed with a combined six deaths. Effectively, the only one left for them was mid. And no matter how good Hades was, if we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠landed our chains properly, we could blow him up in one go.

The teamfight began in front of the enemy base. With the Demon Hunter and Illusionist combo, the Rune Mage's health dropped to the floor in an instant. I thought he would explode right there.

"Wait a second..."

But the moment I positioned to dodge an enemy skill, Hades' Artificial Black Hole appeared right where I stood. Our main damage dealers—the Illusionist and Demon Hunter—were sucked inside.