The Saintess's Rational Mid-Lane Pick

Shall we just play the next game?

Playing Priest in the mid lane instead of support wasn’t some sudden whim. I knew full well that a mid Priest would look like a bizarre pick to most people. Still, I’d done enough research on the role to feel confident. Above all, jumping into ranked with a low-proficiency mid Priest would be nothing but a nuisance to my team. It made more sense to build that proficiency right now while I still could.

I was also painfully aware that everything I’d just told myself didn’t sound like something a person who’d only played one game should be saying. But if I admitted I only picked it again because I wanted to see the enemy’s delicious reaction, my dignity would be in tatters. So I had no choice but to trot out all those other justifications.

“Anyway, it’s a rational pick. End of discussion.”

“I am definitely not choosing it just to watch the opponent’s juicy reaction.”

After rationalizing my way into the dungeon, a massive spider-like monster greeted me by rearing up on its hind legs.

Whoa, that startled me. Why does it feel so realistic?

I casually sliced through the giant spider’s windpipe in return for its warm welcome. Deeper inside, I spotted the enemy mid laner in the distance.

“Let’s see… Rune Mage?”

At a glance, this was obviously a late-game carry champion. If the game went on long enough, the Rune Mage would naturally stack value and then crush everyone with it.

“Then I just have to ruin his early game, don’t I?”

Every late-game carry had the same weakness. It was time to stab that early-game frailty where it hurt most. I judged that fighting at level 3 offered the highest win rate, so I deliberately farmed near him and slowly closed the distance.

The moment both of us hit level 3, the Priest’s bold initiation started a one-on-one between the mid laners.

The enemy Rune Mage seemed momentarily flustered by the sudden ambush. He kept taking hits, running away without looking back, and it looked like the fight would end rather anticlimactically. But once he realized the person beating him up was a Priest, he froze.

Yeah, something feels off, right?

His attitude flipped completely. He stopped running, turned to face me, and looked for a counter-kill using Artificial Black Hole. The moment the Priest appeared to be sucked into it, he started charging Mana Bullet.

Of course, this reaction was also within my expectations. For a Rune Mage who had dumped both Artificial Black Hole and Mana Bullet, landing both would basically guarantee victory. But if they missed, control of the fight would swing back to me.

I used Sacrifice and Heal to squeeze out every drop of speed I could, then successfully dashed toward the Rune Mage right before the black hole swallowed me.

The Rune Mage frantically tried to land Mana Bullet at the miraculous play. But the moment I started smacking his head with the bible, his Mana Bullet was canceled and his health dropped below half. Looking utterly panicked, he used his leap to run away from the Priest who was moving like lightning.

Having a leap wasn’t exclusive to the Rune Mage. In the end, he handed over first blood with an expression of pure disbelief. Judging from that look, he still had no idea this was the beginning of a nightmare.

Unfortunately ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for him, I wasn’t merciful enough to overlook such complacency. I tormented him relentlessly until Cerberus spawned—controlling monsters, camping outside the enemy dungeon, and beating him to the brink of death before sending him back to base.

Before long the mid-lane gold gap had widened to around 1,300. At this point his mid-to-late game carry potential was already half-destroyed, so I was thinking about securing an advantage in the Cerberus fight and then breaking open other lanes.

That was when the kills started pouring in from top and bottom.

The situation began to twist as the enemy racked up kills in both top and bottom. To check the team atmosphere I reopened the team chat I had muted earlier. As expected, a fierce war of words was in full swing.

I had no idea what the Berserker said, but it got filtered instantly and earned him an immediate chat restriction. Looked like this game wouldn’t be as easy as the last one.

“Master of League was the same—chat always explodes no matter what. At least the real-time filtering makes people talk a bit more politely.”

Still, if our team was at this level, the enemy team probably wasn’t much better. In that case, all I had to do was shatter their morale too. And as everyone knows, there was one person who excelled at destroying the enemy’s mood.

After widening the gap with the enemy mid even further, I checked the bottom lane again, satisfied that the mid gold difference was now close to 2,000.

Bottom lane still hadn’t recovered their momentum despite the constant good news from mid. At the five-minute mark, Cerberus spawned in the center of the dungeon, but a perfect storm of missing players forced us to give it up.

After that the enemy rode the momentum and nearly destroyed our bottom outer turret in the blink of an eye. The gold gap had reversed at some point. It was a truly hopeless situation.

The situation really was bad enough to warrant a quick surrender vote, but my leap was coming off cooldown soon. I judged that if I played this next fight well, we could still turn the game around. If we cleaned up bot before it completely exploded and suppressed the enemy carry who had over-farmed, we still had a chance.

“Let me check their skills first.”

Fortunately, our bot duo’s skills were a perfect combination of crowd-control chaining and engage—ideal for responding to ganks. Considering the enemy support was a Paladin like the Rune Mage, specialized in late-game potential and tanking, now—before the game reached the late stage—was the perfect opportunity to turn things around.

Time to stop worrying about my teammates’ doubts and show them the dignity of a well-fed mid-lane Saintess.