Vol.3 Chapter 12

Zetta’s PoV

“Are you serious?!” I shouted in exasperation, my voice echoing through the room.

The tension in the participant’s room was palpable due to the recent match. I hated to admit it, but the loss was partly my fault. Despite giving it my all, I underestimated Murasame’s skill, and that cost us the game.

Still, I wasn’t angry about the defeat itself against a strong opponent like her, far from it. Instead, I’m thrilled to have to fight her again to settle the score in the final match. No, what truly irked me was the suggestion that Creed put forward.

“Yes, I want to launch a surprise attack on their ace, Murasame, and eliminate her as soon as possible,” Creed said calmly, his tone unwavering.

“…Are you really suggesting that I can’t beat her without relying on help?” I replied menacingly, my eyes narrowing as I glared at him.

Creed seemed to be intimidated by my threat, but he held his ground. His expression remained steady, though I could see a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m implying,” he said, trying to maintain his composure.

“It’s just… we can’t risk it. You know that a lot is at stake here. I want to use every means necessary to win,” he continued cautiously.

“At the cost of throwing away your pride? Do you want our team to be remembered as the ones who avoided facing our opponents head-on in the most crucial match in the history of the CoA?!” I ranted, my voice trembling with frustration as I lost my cool.

“Pride can only take you so far. History is written by the victors. As long as we win, it doesn’t matter what people think of our victory,” Creed retorted, his tone calm but firm.

“It does to me, though!” I shot back, my anger flaring.

Creed took a deep breath, trying to reason with me.

“Of course, I understand that. You've been in the pro scene far longer than any of us and have built your reputation as the strongest duelist in the game. However, all of us are relatively new to the pro scene and were only just scouted by the organization for our talents for this year’s AC run. While you have already achieved a title, this is our opportunity to fulfill our own dreams of victory.”

I tried to see the truth in his words, to verify it. My gaze shifted to our other teammates, Brandt and Brutus, trying to gauge their reactions. Judging by their body language—the hesitant glances, the slight nods—it seemed that they agreed with him.

“Don’t tell me you guys agree with him, too?!” I demanded, my voice tinged with disbelief and disappointment.

Brandt sighed heavily, stepping forward to place a reassuring hand on my shoulder. It did little to quell the turmoil within me, though.

“We saw the replay, Zetta,” he began, his tone measured and calm. “It’s evident that Murasame is getting better and better with each passing second. She adapts too quickly to your play style. She’s a threat that we simply can’t ignore. Right now, I think the best course of action is to take her down strategically for us to have a higher chance of winning and being crowned as champions.”

Brutus, standing off to the side, remained silent. His usual stoic demeanor gave nothing away, but his stance spoke volumes. The slight nod of his head and the way his arms were crossed indicated his agreement with Brandt and Creed.

Creed seized the moment to drive his point home. “You also want to surpass Yuusha as the only one to hold two AC titles, right?” he continued, his voice firm and persuasive.

I felt a surge of frustration and resentment. How low of him to use my own ambitions, something I had confided in them numerous times, to persuade me. It felt like a betrayal, a manipulation of my deepest desires to achieve our shared goal.

“…It might not even work. Their team might catch onto us,” I said defiantly.

“They won't anticipate it. Murasame and her teammates likely assume you intend to settle the score. We can leverage their expectations to our advantage,” Creed countered, his voice calm and resolute.

I clenched my fists but remained silent, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on my shoulders.

“Rest assured, if the surprise attack fails, I will let you handle the duel, and I will leave immediately to provide support for the middle orb. Does this strategy meet with the team's approval?” he inquired, his gaze sweeping across the room as he addressed the entire group.

“Sounds good. Brutus can hold the fort for a while in the middle orb all on his own. He is the best defender in the game right now, after all,” Brandt answered, stepping forward with a determined nod.

“Brutus, what about you?” Creed continued to persuade the team.

“I’m fine with it,” Brutus replied, his deep voice resonating with agreement.

They both turned to me, their eyes seeking my approval. It was three against one, so it didn't really matter what I said, but it was clear they wanted the whole team to be united in this decision.

“Tsk! Do what you want!” I spat out, my voice sharp with anger as I stormed out of the room, the door closing behind me with a resounding thud.

I needed to cool off, to clear my mind from the turmoil. As I walked down the corridor, the adrenaline from our argument still coursing through my veins, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal.

My teammates' insistence on the surprise attack felt like a dismissal of my abilities, an undermining of my desire to face Murasame head-on.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself. I knew that Creed, Brandt, and Brutus had our team's best interests at heart, but it didn't make the situation any easier to swallow.

My walk carried me towards the player lounge. Thanks to the soundproofing walls, it was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the arena.

Given that this stadium is the largest in the world, I’m sure there are plenty of rooms like this. Unfortunately, I haven’t had the opportunity to explore all of it since I've been busy with the tournament.

The lounge was empty, as expected. With only two participating teams remaining, our opponents were likely too engrossed in their own preparations for the final game to find time to walk around aimlessly, as I was doing right now.

I also doubted they had any disagreements like our team did, especially considering their performance in the last game. Their morale was undoubtedly high at the moment, a stark contrast to ours.

As I was about to immerse myself in my thoughts, I sensed a presence from behind me. I instantly turned to see who it was.

Judging by his appearance, he was a teenager, probably around 18 years old. His casual attire indicated that he was one of the viewers, someone who had bought tickets and come to watch the finals.

“What are you doing here? This place is off-limits for non-players or organization members,” I scolded, my voice sharp and authoritative.

“Oh! S-sorry,” he stammered, his nervousness evident. “I was loitering around and got lost. I happened to see you, and… uhm… well… I’m a huge fan, so could I get your autograph?!” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement and anxiety.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the kid. This place is incredibly huge, so I couldn’t blame him for getting lost. However, I still had no time to entertain a fan right now, not with so much weighing on my mind.

“Go away, kid. I don't have time for you,” I said bluntly, my patience wearing thin.

“P-please! I’m a huge fan! Just one autograph and I’ll leave you alone… Please, please, please!” he begged noisily, his desperation palpable.

“Tsk! Alright, fine, just stay quiet. I can't think with you being so noisy,” I conceded, my annoyance evident.

“Thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with relief and gratitude.

He handed me his jacket and a pen, his hands trembling slightly. I took it casually, and as I scribbled my signature on his jacket, I noticed him hesitating somewhat. It was clear he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start.

“Uhm…” he finally began after I was done with the signature.

“What is it? Spit it out,” I said impatiently, my tone sharper than I intended.

“It’s just that I saw you walking in a bad mood. You seem angry. Did you have a fight with your teammates?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Hmph, you’re quite nosy, aren’t ya?” I replied with a huff.

“S-sorry…” he said meekly.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a bit of a clash of opinions. It happens when you are part of a team. Different perspectives can lead to disagreements, but it’s nothing we can’t handle,” I replied as I handed his jacket and pen back to him.

“T-thank you so much!” he said, clutching it to his chest.

“Now, shoo, go away. I need time to think alone,” I said, waving my hand dismissively.

“A-alright, thanks again!” he said one last time before turning and walking away.

I watched as he headed deeper into the player’s lobby. I almost called out to him, knowing that it was the wrong way to the stadium, but I couldn’t be bothered right now.

I needed to center myself before the last match. Besides, I might also be wrong—this place was like a maze, and for all I knew, there really could be another exit that way.

Well, he would probably figure it out the right way eventually, so it’s not my problem.

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Elizabeth’s PoV

“We’re back for the final match of the battle between the two strongest teams in the world, Team Razor Gaming and Team Atelier!” DJ Riot exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement and anticipation.

“That’s right, Riot. Both teams are now preparing for the momentous battle that will determine who among them will take their place in the hall of legends by winning this year’s Andartha’s Cup! The stakes couldn’t be higher than this!” ParaTrooper agreed, his tone equally enthusiastic.

Hana and Rin, who were sitting on either side of me, were also cheering as best as they could, especially Hana, who was rooting nonstop for her sister. She seemed more relaxed now.

I felt a sense of relief knowing that my efforts to reassure Hana earlier had worked. As their captain, it was my duty to support and encourage them, but more than that, I genuinely didn’t want her to worry too much.

As I listened to the casters' commentary as they talked about their expectations for the upcoming match, I glanced at the chat on my stream, which was buzzing with activity. Comments flew by at lightning speed, with viewers speculating on who would win, analyzing the players’ strategies, and sharing their excitement for the upcoming showdown.

I tried to entertain them for a while, sharing my thoughts and interacting with the viewers. However, the noise and heavy cheers from the crowd made it difficult for me to be heard, and I quickly realized that my efforts were in vain.

Although, it didn’t take long for the caster to announce the start of the match. The energy in the arena reached a fever pitch as DJ Riot's voice boomed through the speakers.

“And it looks like both teams are ready! The last game is starting, guys! We will finally know who will be the champion of this year's largest e-sport tournament and cement themselves as legends alongside the previous AC champions!” DJ Riot hyped.

The giant screens at the center of the stadium flickered to life, switching to the game's stage. The spectators erupted in cheers as the two teams were transported to the stage of the ancient ruins.

This stage was a labyrinth of crumbling structures and narrow passageways, providing ample opportunities for setting ambushes. The strategic placement of hiding spots near the orb capture points added an extra layer of complexity to the battlefield.

3…

2…

1…

Game Start!

With the system countdown complete, both teams surged toward their respective orbs with lightning speed. However, this time, something felt off.

“What’s this?! It appears this game will differ significantly from the previous two!” the caster remarked, his voice tinged with curiosity and surprise.

His comment prompted me to double-check the screen, and it didn’t take long for me to understand what he meant.

“Now, that’s… unexpected, to say the least,” I murmured as my voice was lost in the sea noise from the crowd.

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Zetta’s PoV

Arriving at the bottom orb, I found myself face-to-face with Murasame once again. The ancient ruins around us added an air of mystique to the encounter, with massive stone pillars looming overhead and scattered debris from centuries past littering the ground. The atmosphere was thick with tension, the faint hum of the orb pulsing in the background.

This time, there was no hesitation. The moment I noticed Murasame appear near the orb, I sprang into action. I surged forward, closing the distance between us in an instant, my eyes locked onto hers with unwavering focus.

Meanwhile, Creed was stealthily circling her in preparation for a surprise attack. He expertly maneuvered behind the massive stone pillars and other debris, positioning himself for the surprise attack, befitting a professional player of the highest caliber.

My aggressive rush served both as a distraction and an effort to execute our plan as swiftly as possible. Creed had emphasized that our plan had a narrow 10-second window.

Any longer, and our opponents would grow suspicious, especially if they noticed that only Brutus was stationed in the middle of the orb. The clock was ticking, and we had to move fast to ensure the surprise attack would succeed.

As I closed in on Murasame, I launched my first strike, aiming to unbalance her. She parried with remarkable speed, her blade clashing against mine with a resounding metallic ring that echoed through the ancient ruins.

The impact reverberated through my arms, but I held my ground, pushing forward with renewed vigor. Since I had the higher strength stats between us, this status quo was fine with me.

With each passing heartbeat, the intensity of our clash escalated, fueled by the aggressive nature of both our playstyles.

In the final moments of our 10-second window, the plan came to fruition. Creed sprang into action, emerging from the shadows of the ancient pillars. With a swift and practiced motion, he began casting his prepared spell.

“Blood Bind!” he exclaimed.

A crimson glow enveloped Murasame, her movements suddenly restricted by the powerful binding spell. Her eyes flickered with recognition, a mixture of shock and realization dawning on her face as she comprehended the true extent of our strategy.

But it was too late. The spell took hold, its crimson tendrils wrapping around Murasame, immobilizing her for the crucial seconds we needed.

Urk!” she exclaimed in surprise.

Wasting no time, I activated my highest-damage unique weapon skill. This is one of my many custom-made rapiers crafted by our organization’s best blacksmiths. It was designed to look identical to the one I used in the previous game but had a different skill to confuse opponents.

The rapier's blade glowed with an ethereal light, its power surging through me as I aimed for the decisive strike.

“Exalted Peirce!” I shouted the name of my unique weapon skill.

My attack cut through the air a loud bang from the energy burst. The impact was swift and devastating, leaving no room for Murasame to counter or defend.

BOOM*

While this skill is not as efficient as her weapon skill due to the time required to charge it—crucial seconds lost in the midst of a duel— its high firepower makes it ideal for landing a single, decisive blow. And with proper setup, landing this attack on my opponents becomes child’s play.

Winning in this manner isn't my preferred style, but my teammates were right. The game isn't solely about me. They also had high stakes in this match, and their success depended on our collective efforts. I had to set aside my pride for the greater good.

But, as the dust settled, I was bewildered by what I saw.

Murasame

HP: 100%

What?! How is she still alive after taking a direct hit from my unique weapon skill? Unharmed even!

My eyes narrowed as I scanned the scene, and then I noticed the faint, translucent shield radiating off her form. It shimmered with an ethereal glow, casting a protective barrier around her.

This barrier... It's the ‘Guardian Angel’ skill from a light mage! That can only mean one thing.

I quickly surveyed my surroundings, and my doubts were proven correct. Among the ruins, I spotted their young captain, Yuna, standing a bit farther away from one of the many debris.

She must have been biding her time, watching the battle unfold from a strategic vantage point and had expertly concealed herself, waiting for the perfect moment to cast her supportive spell.

Her timing was impeccable, a level befitting a professional player at the top of her game, and she had intervened just in time to shield Murasame from my devastating attack.

This revelation meant that their team had planned this all along. They had completely anticipated our surprise attack, read us like a book, and then had executed the perfect counterplay.

To make matters worse, this situation could have been easily avoided, but we were so focused on ensuring our trap succeeded that we failed to notice that we were falling into one ourselves.

As I was recovering from the shock of what had transpired, Murasame seized the opportunity and wasted no time.

"Falling Rain Blossoms," she muttered, her words sending a chill through my core.

Shit, I’m in too deep now! After using my weapon skills, I was barely able to move due to fatigue, let alone dodge her impending combo.

Murasame's eyes glinted with determination as she initiated her five-slash combo with blinding speed. Each strike was a blur, her blade cutting through the air with deadly precision. The sheer force of her attacks left me with no time to react.

“GUHH!” I exclaimed, the pain receptors from the VR feature glaring.

The final slash struck with such force that it sent me staggering back, my health plummeting to zero.

Zetta

HP: 0%

Tsk! I should have been more careful. Perhaps this is karmic justice for abandoning a fair fight in favor of underhanded tactics. A deeper part of me, though, sighed in profound relief at this outcome.

Maybe this is for the best.

"It seems that you have won," I addressed my newfound rival.

"I don’t consider this a win. Let’s settle our duel another time, just the two of us," she replied calmly.

Her determined voice, coupled with her promise of a proper duel, was the last thing I heard before I vanished from the game.

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Yuna’s PoV

As the VR pod swung open, I emerged from the sleek, high-tech chamber with adrenaline still coursing through my veins after the last match. As I got out, the deafening roar of the crowd immediately hit me like a tidal wave.

My ears were bombarded with the ecstatic screams and enthusiastic chants of thousands of fans. The collective energy of the crowd, their cheers rising to a crescendo, made the ground tremble beneath my feet.

I saw my teammates also cheer and celebrate in joy as they got out of their own pods.

“We won! We actually won!” Freya exclaimed, her usual graceful demeanor entirely abandoned in the celebratory chaos. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and her voice quivered with disbelief and elation.

“Holy shit! I didn’t expect us to win the entire tournament! Pinch me right now! I must be dreaming!” Artemis added, her cheerful disposition more animated than ever.

On the other hand, Aoi calmly walked towards me, though this time, there was an unmistakable spark of inquisitiveness in her usually emotionless face.

“That was... impressive. How did you perfectly anticipate their surprise attack?” Aoi inquired, her curiosity evident in her eyes and tilted head.

Unlike Freya and Artemis, she maintained a composed exterior, though her tone had an unmistakable hint of admiration.

Her question triggered a vivid flashback to a recent report I received during the break before the third game. One of the personnel I had ordered to spy on our opponent’s team informed me that he saw Zetta storming out of his room, visibly agitated.

The informant also revealed that Zetta had admitted to having a ‘clash of opinions’ with his own team. Given Zetta's prideful nature, the underlying cause of their conflict was not difficult to deduce.

The most plausible explanation was that Zetta’s teammates wanted to launch a surprise attack on our ace player, considering Aoi’s stellar performance in the second game.

However, Zetta, known for his pride in being the strongest duelist, is surely opposed to such a strategy, thus prompting their disagreement.

Knowing their intentions for the third and final game, devising a flawless counter-strategy was merely a trivial task.

“A little birdie told me~,” I responded vaguely, avoiding any further elaboration.

In this unforgiving world, such actions are sometimes necessary. This wasn’t the first time I had engaged in morally ambiguous tactics during this tournament, and Aoi didn’t need to know about this instance or any of the others.

Aoi glanced at me with a puzzled expression as if she were on the verge of asking another question. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, the announcer's booming voice filled the arena, declaring our victory.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for the champions of the 3rd AC, TEAM ATELIER!"

The crowd erupted into an even wilder frenzy than before, their excitement reaching new heights.

"It looks like that’s our cue! Come on, Senpai~, let's get the trophy! Everyone is waiting for you to lift the cup. You are undoubtedly the MVP of the tournament, after all!"

Determined not to keep the fans waiting any longer, Aoi led the team toward the center of the stadium. We followed her, only stopping when we reached the coveted Andartha’s Cup, the ultimate symbol that only the strongest team in the world could hold.

Although our victory might not have been entirely honorable, the world is seldom black and white. Sometimes, one must navigate the shadows to achieve greatness.

I thought as I watched Aoi lift the trophy high above, the crowd's cheers echoing around us while we basked in the limelight.