Prologue: Two Kinds of Sports

Maikoshka’s breath spilled into the cold air of the forest ruins, slow and heavy. Snow drifted between the trees as her sunset-yellow eyes locked on Lilias, patient and unblinking, like an owl waiting for its prey to take one careless step beyond safety.

Neither moved. Both gripped their weapons tightly. Their stillness became a brief truce to steady their thoughts after the brutal exchange.

Without warning, Lilias lunged like an arrow, her oversized blade aimed straight for Maikoshka’s core, her bunny-eared hoodie trailing just behind. A single leap was enough to reignite the battle.

Maikoshka parried with the rope of her cross-flail. The weapon snapped out with precision before arcing back to chase Lilias.

But it didn’t land. Lilias’s reflexes were too sharp. She’d seen this move many times before. She knew a dodge in place was enough to avoid it.

They reset to neutral at close range, right where Lilias thrived.

Lilias stabbed her oversized blade into the ground behind her and used the recoil to hurl herself forward, unleashing a flurry of kicks and knee strikes. 

No one could react to that speed. But somehow, no strike connected cleanly.

Maikoshka wasn’t reacting. She was reading. Predicting. Knowing what was coming from years of studying these patterns.

Lilias varied her strikes, but through calculated luck, Maikoshka managed to block and dodge every mix-up.

Lilias was forced to take a pause. The instant that opening appeared, Maikoshka slipped back a few steps, just outside her burst range. That uncomfortable distance where the only quick approach came full of risk. Probably not worth it.

But Lilias did it anyway.

A wide slash. Reckless enough to be unpredictable.

Maikoshka dashed inside the wide arc and slammed her shoulder into Lilias before the strike could land, sending Lilias rolling back toward a broken stone wall.

Maikoshka knew those impulses too well. Every reckless habit had already been studied.

Space widened once again after that single, clean connection.

The crowd was going crazy.

“And with that phenomenal read, we’re down to the last minute, Felpu!”

“Last match, last game, last round, last minute. This is it, Nicojake! The national title is on the line!”

“It’s been two whole days filled with tight sets, brutal upsets, and pure hype, all boiling down to this very moment!”

Lilias stood up nonchalantly against the wall, as if she didn’t care that she had no escape, as if Maikoshka wasn’t a single clean hit away from victory.

Her long orange hair and golden eyes lit like fire as she pulled up her eared hoodie.

“Watch out! Beast Mode’s on!”

Maikoshka took a quick step back.

“This is Venn’s chance! Let’s see if champion Mars can survive these twelve seconds of hell!”

Lilias dashed forward, forcing Maikoshka to raise her guard, only to stop midway.

“What is Venn doing?!”

Lilias walked slowly toward her startled opponent.

“Half the timer’s gone!”

Lilias jumped in swiftly as if attacking from above.

But the strike never landed.

Maikoshka parried at empty air as Lilias touched the snow lightly on both feet.

That was it.

“An opening for Venn!”

Strikes rained down on Maikoshka as Lilias went berserk. Flaming kicks to the knee, knees to the gut, hilt to the face. Each hit barely pushed Maikoshka away, keeping her trapped at close range so the beating could continue. Brutal to watch. Devastating to her health bar.

This time Maikoshka was pinned against the wall.

“Oh god… is this it?!”

Despite the speed, both Mars and Venn saw the exchange in slow motion. Their eyes were sore, their breathing still, and the smallest input could decide everything.

If Venn made Maikoshka hit the wall, the fight was over.

Mars managed to input a side-hop. His only possible escape against Beast Mode Lilias’ scorching kick.

Venn knew this could happen, and he reacted accordingly.

With one second left of Beast Mode still active, Lilias lunged into a long, furious stab with no breathing room left.

Maikoshka parried the strike. Just like before.

The flail should’ve come. Venn reacted perfectly, dodging on the spot.

But the flail didn’t come.

A subtle delay.

Just enough.

The cross-flail slammed clean into Lilias as her dodge animation ended. Maikoshka’s glowing eyes were proof of a perfect hit.

K.O.!!

The crowd exploded. The commentators, too.

“He’s from another planet! He’s a freaking Martian! Mars takes this year’s national tournament in the final seconds... out of a timing trap!”

“Man… Mars is one hell of a cold player. It’s like those five matches were all there just to condition Venn for that last hit. He waited just a few extra frames, a mere fragment of a second, fully confident Venn would dodge after the parry.”

“How on earth can you be that calm, last round, against the wall, against the clock, and against a monster like Venn throwing Lilias’ whole arsenal at you?”

“What a final. You have to wonder, how far could these two go if they faced the best players in the world? Could they become world-class?”

Both players took off their headphones and stood up. They exchanged a fist bump as a brief gesture of respect, almost swallowed by the roar of the crowd.

Just by looking at them, no one could have told who had won.

Both seemed drained. Both seemed unhappy.

A teenage girl watched the tournament’s final moments on her tablet, sprawled across the couch in a cozy living room. The tablet’s faint audio fought weakly against a TV, both sounds fading into the wide room.

“Mars is such a freak,” she muttered, stretching across the cushions. “I wonder what really goes on inside a top player’s head.”

She glanced over to the dinner table, where her older sister was preparing coffee and sandwiches while a football match played on the TV.

“Hey, Lisa! What do you think?”

Lisa didn’t answer at first. Her gaze was fixed on the screen as if lost inside the game, until she realized her name had just been called.

“Eh? Oh, sorry, Lila. I didn’t hear you,” she replied with her usual warmth.

Lisa turned to look at her younger sister, who was practically melting into the couch like a lazy blob. The sight made her let out a giggle.

“How’s the match going? You’ve played against those girls, right?” Lila asked, looking toward the screen.

“I have,” Lisa answered after a brief pause. Her voice was soft, but there was a bittersweet note to it. A tone Lila rarely heard from her.

On the screen, the football match raced toward its final minutes, both women’s teams locked in a fierce struggle to break the tie. The old speakers crackled lightly with the sound of the crowd.

The winner would advance to the semi-finals of the university league’s national tournament. Ravens versus Amazons. Two of the strongest amateur teams in the country.

Lila’s eyes drifted above the far shelf stacked with football trophies. She’d stopped caring about them years ago.

She grabbed the tablet again and refocused on the stream of the biggest national esports event of the year.

Mars was stepping up onto the main stage just as a girl in an elaborate cosplay made her way down, clutching her prize, greeting him and waving to the crowd in gratitude.

The camera cut to the interview booth.

“We’re here with Mars, the current three-time national champion of Gates of Faith,” the interviewer began, her voice bright with excitement.

“Not only have you defended your title for the third year in a row in this fighting game, but you’ve also made impressive runs in other tournaments, during day one. The MOBA Ocean’s Colosseum, the RTS Witchcraft, and the TCG Deep Realms. Is there a secret to competing at such a high level across so many esports?”

Mars gave a slight nod, his gaze dropping to the floor as he processed the question. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady.

“Every competitive game has its own quirks, but they all follow common principles. Once you get past the initial hurdle of learning the core mechanics and mastering the fundamentals, the rest starts to feel pretty similar.”

The interviewer leaned in, curious. “And can you tell us what those principles are?”

In the sisters’ living room, both the stream and the football match continued in parallel. Even though they were completely separate events, the rhythm of the football match seemed to blend with the words of the esports champion.

“First, you need to understand your own options and those of your opponent,” Mars replied. “That’s how you build a game plan. Knowing which choices are optimal and which ones to avoid. Then, you have to show up to tournaments in good physical and mental condition to execute that plan, and adapt as your opponent adapts.”

As his words drifted through the room, the Amazons could be seen on screen, carrying out a sharp, disciplined strategy, subtly but consistently taking control of the field from Ravens.

“So for you,” pressed the interviewer, “once the game plan is set, the most important thing is to be in top shape?”

Even in the exhausting final minutes of the game, Amazons kept running, pressing, fighting. They looked like true athletes playing at the highest level.

“Exactly.” Mars nodded. “At this level, there are no easy games. When your opponent really knows what they’re doing, it all comes down to fundamentals and who makes fewer mistakes. If your body and mind are sharp, your reflexes, coordination, observation, intuition, and problem-solving all work the way you need them to. But if you lose focus or patience, you’ll make avoidable mistakes, and those can cost you the game. I mean, I would have lost right now if I had been three frames late on my last side-hop or parry.”

The camera focused back on the interviewer.

“You really seem to have this all thought out. Now, here’s the question everyone wants to know. Are you going for the Gates of Faith World League this winter?”

Mars didn’t hesitate. “No. Actually, I’m retiring from the game after this tournament.”

“W-What? Retiring??” the interviewer blurted out.

Lila said it at the same time, almost falling off the couch. “Wait, what?! Retiring?”

“Yes,” Mars said, his voice steady. “It connects to what I just said. At this level, it all comes down to fundamentals and who makes fewer mistakes. I can control my own mistakes with practice and study, but I can’t push my fundamental abilities beyond where they are now. I’m never going to have the reflexes—”

On screen, an Amazons player with short golden hair snapped her leg like lightning, blocking a pass right after the ball left the ground.

“—or the instinct—”

A muscular, red-haired Amazon read the play perfectly and barreled through the defenders, radiating raw willpower.

“—the intuition—”

A small-framed, wavy-haired Amazon received the ball and slipped a perfect pass through an unexpected gap. Her tight, polished technique led the charge forward, as if she had known where every other player would be beforehand.

“—or the adaptability—”

At the back, the Amazons’ captain smiled softly, reading the entire field in silence, without needing to press. The goal unfolded elegantly before her eyes.

“—of a world champion. No matter how hard I try.”

Mars gave a faint smile, almost content. “I’m proud of how far I’ve come, but I know this is my ceiling. Someone like Venn? He could compete at that level if he dedicated the same study hours I put in. Today, he had me on the ropes the entire time, mostly on raw instinct and talent. And that’s something I don’t have.”

The interviewer blinked, still trying to catch up. “And in that case… what’s next for you?”

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe I’ll focus on another esport and see how far I can go. Or maybe I’ll take some time off until a new game pulls me in.”

“Well then. It’s been an absolute honor to have you here, Mars, on your last tournament. You’ve left a mark in the community. I’m sure you’ll do great wherever you decide to go now.”

“Thanks, but I wonder. The community shifts fast. In a few months no one will miss me, probably. It happens all the time.”

The rich scent of coffee drifted through the living room, reaching Lila, who was now losing interest in the stream.

“Lisaa! How much longer? I’m starving!” Lila called out from the couch.

“Just a few more minutes, hold on,” Lisa answered, her eyes still on the amateur women’s football game as it came to an end.

On the television, the broadcast shifted to a new interview, this time from the football pitch itself.

“We’re here with Amazons’ captain Paola, the MVP of today’s match. She scored the first two goals for Amazons before the third finally sealed their victory.”

The interviewer approached the captain.

“First of all, congratulations! It was a tough match against the tournament favorites, but you pulled off a brilliant win. What do you think made the difference?”

Paola smiled. “Yeah, it was a hard game, but this is what we train for. We’ve got great players, we arrived in good condition, and we capitalized on the chances we had.”

“You must be proud of how far you’ve come. Your regional qualifiers are never easy, but you led the pack with attitude and now you’re in the final stretch of the tournament. Do you think you can bring the trophy home?”

Lisa’s eyes lingered on the screen, watching the interview unfold. Lila was also paying attention now.

“There are still some tough opponents left, so we can’t get ahead of ourselves. But we always play to win. And yes, our regional qualifiers are usually tough, but this season some of the local teams came in really weakened. Of course, I don’t mean to take any credit away from our team’s hard work.”

Lisa’s expression tightened. There was a flash of deep disappointment on her face as those words pierced through her.

In the background, Lila winced, as if she felt it too.

“But isn’t that a good thing for you?” the interviewer asked.

The interview was being watched from more places than just the sisters’ living room.

A gym. A library. Even a student council room.

Paola shook her head. “Not really. It might help us rack up points in the short term, but if we want to improve, easy matches won’t get us there. I just hope those teams can recover soon.”

“Lastly, we know there are a lot of professional clubs scouting this tournament, looking to recruit the best amateur players in the country. After today’s performance, many of your teammates must be on their radar. What’s your take on going pro?”

Paola answered without hesitation. “Well, we’re in business school, and most of us really enjoy it, so I can’t speak for the whole team. But in my case, if the chance to join a club comes up, I’d happily take the challenge.”

“Thank you so much, Paola.”

“My pleasure.”

The screen faded to black.

In the student council room, a girl lowered the remote, set it on the table, and buried her face in both hands.