Notes:
MY WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL, LOVELY BETA, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, VERIQUITY (VQT)
THANK YOU FOR DEALING WITH MY BLACK-HEARTED SELF
this is just so sad, warning you guys
LAST WARNING
THIS IS A SOB FEST
THE SOB FEST
Releasing this in celebration of TKA OVA! P1 ofc
Also submitted the first part of this (the rough draft ver) for The King's Avatar Server Story Contest *heart*
Summary:
When did things change? When did victory become everything?
The leaves are already falling—heralding autumn—with the encroaching outbreak of frost close at hand. Thus, what...what do you see?
When I ruled the world…
His right hand trembles minutely, but he extends it nevertheless. His fingers feel slick across the smooth surface of the card, white and red in all its glory. The gear and wings are emblazoned across the lower right, the sword tips pointed outward in shining white against the black and gold of the emblem. In neat, black penmanship, One Autumn Leaf boldly announces itself to the world from the small upper left corner.
His thumb slides forward, resting on that unforgettable emblem for a split second. His famed hands—slender, nimble, and invariably steady—now quiver with the force of his hesitance, his uncertainty, his fears. His self-control nearly shatters when a strong grip grasps the other end of the card, causing his own hand to fall back closer to the edge. Clad in a black, fingerless glove, that pale hand—of a healthier hue than his own sallow skin—clutches and yanks his companion of ten years out of his hands with nary a second thought.
"Mine!"
That word echoes through Ye Xiu's mind. For a moment, time stands still.
I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Ten years...has it really been that long? The world around him dissolves, the smug, reverberating chortle becoming the humming of cicadas in a humid summer night.
"I've never seen you around before." The soft, warm voice rang like a delicate chime within his mind. The diminutive fairy, delicate in all her youth, beamed across from him, a boy closer to his own age sitting by her side. A protective glint rested in his chestnut eyes, while silken strands seemingly dipped in golden honey framed cheeks not entirely devoid of baby fat. He was a striking vision against the slip of a girl beside him, yet their relation was evident—she possessed those same chestnut eyes, their irises a swirl of molten copper, soft and angelic even in the dim light. Although her hair fell past her shoulders in a cascade of warm caramel, her smile was what illuminated the room.
Over time, the exact words of this conversation have begun to fade from his memories, but that line, as well as one other, remains with stark clarity.
"Oi, who said you were going to win for sure?" Outrage sparked with each syllable, but beneath, there was also laughter and sunshine. This line was a challenge that should have lasted a lifetime, a lifetime of rivalry intertwined with friendship...but it had not.
"I heard. Glory...can't you see my ears are starting to bleed?" At first, Glory meant nothing to him. Ironic, considering all he is now, the Battle God of Excellent Era, the trailblazer that set the stage for the Glory Professional Alliance during its infancy.
Glory...that word followed him constantly back then. When the heaven-shattering news of the new game was released, it had ignited a fire within Su Muqiu and led to an unfortunate period of time where Ye Xiu's ears were nearly harped off. Heaven knew how much Su Muqiu looked forward to the release, whereas Ye Xiu simply trailed after him sedately. Wasn't this just another game to make money in? Another way to place food on the table, essentially. When the game went online for the first time, he had merely created his account before logging off and leaving with Su Mucheng. Only Su Muqiu remained in Excellent Era Internet Cafe during the small hours of December 3rd all those years ago, struggling amidst the sea of new players in the first server. Ye Xiu wasn't the one whose life had begun revolving around Glory—not at first, at least.
He played for fun, like he always has, like he does now... No, that last part is no longer true.
When did things change?
Listen as the crowd would sing
Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!
"I have no interest in any of this. I only want to play Glory." It had been a year in, hadn't it? Back then, when Tao Xuan had first given him the papers for sponsorships and promotions. Ye Xiu had rejected them flatly. After Su Muqiu died, Glory became his sole connection to his dear and beloved friend. One Autumn Leaf...is the culmination of his and Su Muqiu's efforts. Each equipment has been painstakingly designed, crafted, and refined, with Evil Annihilation topping it all off; playing with the account always makes Ye Xiu feel as if Su Muqiu is right there beside him. In every keystroke, in every mouse click, it is as if there is another pair of hands backing his decisions, the spirit of a cherished friend softly guiding his...or it did.
Now, Ye Xiu merely senses the growing disappointment of his ghostly memory of Su Muqiu as his instructions remain unanswered, his decisions circumvented. Is it really so hard to do as he directs? His frustration has been brewing for years, his commands becoming harsher and sharper. He only wanted to play, yet Glory...is he even having fun anymore playing it? Each match, dungeon, or training session leaves him on the verge of a headache, a full-blown migraine on the worst days. The worried looks sent his way by Su Mucheng and Qiu Fei do not help either, because his mask is crumbling day by day, and he doesn't know if he can even be bothered to maintain it any longer.
"Sitting in front of a computer and playing Glory, that's enough for me." He feels as if these words had been spoken ages ago. As if another person, not him, had spoken them.
He closes his eyes. When did things change? When did… Ye Xiu opens his eyes and glances at the exuberant man, no—boy—in front of him with dyed locks of sunshine gold and light brown eyes hidden behind brilliant blue contacts.
"Do you like this game?" The words leave Ye Xiu's mouth of their own accord, spoken by the spectre of Su Muqiu that still follows him.
In truth, however, his question is directed toward himself. Do I still like this game? Or has it simply become habit to sit in front of a computer and grind his skills against a whetstone that cracks his blade instead of sharpening it. This club...how could he not have realized what it has done to him? How could he have been so blind?
"What?" Sun Xiang is startled. His wide, false blue eyes stare down at the slimmer man, clad in a cheap, oversized gray jacket, a cream sweater, and a light blue button-up. This so-called Battle God...looks nothing like the towering silhouette of strength and authority he had imagined. This only makes it easier to disregard and insult him, but it also leaves the false blond uneasy. What has happened to make such a god look so downtrodden and defeated?
Even Sun Xiang realizes that Ye Xiu has merely been drifting through life. His skills are as refined as ever, but there is no meaning to his actions, no harmony with his team. The latter is not his fault alone, yet...
A look of resignation flashes across Ye Xiu's face for a brief second. "If you like it, then treat everything as glory and not as boasting." He turns away toward the door, with every intention of leaving.
"What did you say? What does this have to do with you?" Sun Xiang grabs his attention again, because for all that he had given up on Excellent Era the moment he understood what they planned, he still is a senior, and this is a junior of his. He turns his head automatically, a movement influenced by years of trying to help others reach their full potential, but a single glance reveals that this junior does not understand.
Glory was never meant to be played alone, and this junior does not understand, will probably not understand for months, if not years. When, though, had he himself forgotten? Why did he become a machine, desperately and mechanically trying to bulldoze his way to victory…alone…no, when did victory become everything?
"Put it away." With that, he strides toward the exit, his mind already made up. Being forced to retire thereafter is expected, welcomed in fact. He needs time to search within himself, to find that spark of love for Glory and rekindle it back to the blazing inferno it once was. He could have paid the cancellation fee, if only he reconnected with his family or sought repayment from all the loans he gave out to old friends—or even if he asked Su Mucheng, whose watery gaze he can sense without even looking back, piercing through his soul.
Yet—this is also his punishment, his atonement.
Why continue playing Glory...when he does not even remember why he loved it beyond death in the first place? When all his memories are now tainted with betrayal and disappointment, with the realization just moments before of how far he has strayed from the journey he had begun with Su Muqiu all those years ago.
One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
"In this world, there is no never-ending feast."
Those words had once been spoken by Wu Xuefeng without warning after a long period of deliberation and were a then-unknown herald to the end of his era, of his three year reign as champion. All good things must come to an end, after all.
They come back to him all of a sudden, like a tidal wave of enlightenment bringing with it a long-needed cleansing. Nothing can last forever, so why does he cling to this fallen dynasty of his creation? He signs the retirement contract, his pen strokes definite, his hand as steady as his spirit is resolute. With nary a word more, he walks out onto the street and breathes in the cold, smoke-tinged air. The street is empty at this time, yet storefronts and establishments are still lit dimly for those nighttime stragglers. Further down the street, one brightly lit beacon entices him—Happy, a perfect personification of its name, becomes the gateway for his rebirth, though he does not know this at the moment. Right now, its warmth is what draws him closer, like a lost spirit following a lantern-lit path.
He glances back at the open doorway and waves at Su Mucheng. It takes all of his self control to hold himself back when he sees wet tracks carving their way down her face, the tears glistening like dying stars in the light of the streetlamp. He does his best to quell the urge to rush back, hug her, and dry her tears. He stops his himself from holding her close and whispering soft comforts until her face is once again lit with that smile that he treasures so much. This is where they part for now, but his is not a permanent departure. Their paths will always be intertwined.
The words leave his mouth before he can spare a second to reconsider them. "I'll rest a year and then come back." It's a promise, he realizes, not just for himself, but for her, for the both of them. We'll make things right, just give me time, is what he leaves unspoken.
And I discovered my castles stand
Chasing Haze, the account name seems familiar for some reason. He watches the lady stalk off in anger and goes to log into his own...his own account. Right, he doesn't have one anymore. The sound of a countdown catches his attention though, and his gaze swings back to the monitor to see another PvP match about to begin.
...Playing is barely a challenge nowadays. The number one textbook expert title is a heavy burden to bear, because its significance also highlights the breadth of his knowledge compared to the general populace of Glory gamers.
He looks back at the screen for a moment and sighs. It'll be against an ordinary gamer, which shouldn't take long at all. He might as well.
Forty seconds.
Is it really because his hands are cold...or because he feels nothing as he plays? He could have finished it in thirty, perhaps even twenty, if he actually tried with more than minimal effort.
He converses with what seems to be the boss lady here on automatic. Even when bitterness seeps into his voice at the mention of his old account, his mind is suspiciously blank and numb. After all, he promised to come back after a year, but how will he do so...and will it even be worth it?
"Is it to get ready to play in the new server?" These words startle his drifting soul back to reality.
"New server?" Ye Xiu stares blankly at her for a moment before glancing at the timestamp at the corner of the computer monitor. Oh, only a couple hours until it's the third of December. The tenth server really is opening soon then.
Ten years...he recollects. Melancholically, he murmurs again, "New server…" It's not like he can even play; registration for the tenth server began three months ago, like it always has for server openings…
Well, he isn't entirely devoid of options. He does have one account card he has always kept close to his heart—make that two, but he can't bear to use the second one. That one...will never be played again if he has anything to say about it.
"I remember that at the start of a new server, you can transfer accounts over from other servers, right?" Ye Xiu asks suddenly, startling the woman hovering over him.
Curiously looking at this strangely skilled player, she nods and confirms his statement, adding in, "Only Level 1 accounts can."
He pulls from his pocket a faded, black leather wallet and flips it open. His fingers remarkably don't tremble as he slides out from an inside pocket another account card, though a second tries to follow. He tugs free the first card and stuffs the second back in.
The woman watches him, her eyes catching the character 'Autumn' before his hands hide the rest. She doesn't pay it much mind, however; many account cards contain 'Autumn' as a tribute to the Battle God One Autumn Leaf. Though this guy may have a name remarkably similar to Ye Qiu, his ID is the ultimate refutation.
"Isn't this a first-edition card?" The gasp of amazement stills Ye Xiu's movements. Right, not many have this edition, which has long become a collectible. He smiles in remembrance, however, and replies affirmatively, confirming her suspicions after her follow-up question. Yes, he has indeed been playing since the beginning of Glory. Ten years...
When the home page of Glory announces the completed server transfer of his account card, he pulls it free and stores it away once more, his thoughts drifting as a figure materializes within his mind's eye.
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
The next few days, months in fact, are nothing more than a whirlwind of activity that has him mentally stumbling and trying to find his footing.
A true unspecialized account, he mentally huffs in laughter. He still can't believe that he is trying to make this old dream of theirs a reality.
He falls back on almost-forgotten yet familiar patterns, of swindling and trickery to gain materials for crafting. It should have been another hand at the editor, another one whose gaze saw far into realms unknown, another one with a hunched back from documents upon documents of research. Now, he has added who knows how many new files to the long upgraded thumb drive, has done who knows how many new sketches and designs for future upgrades, has theorized who knows how many possible paths to take their Lord Grim on.
A small part of him longs to mimic Su Muqiu's play style, one eerily similar to that chatterbox Huang Shaotian's at times with those game-changing, opportunistic tactics...but he has followed Su Muqiu's footsteps for quite a while, for far too long. He doesn't think he has the energy to immerse himself even further. A leadership role, one of initiative, has been tiring him to the point of exhaustion. Even if it has grown on him like a glove a tad too small being stretched out into a comfortable fit...he should play for himself, he ultimately decides.
What is the point of playing Glory for another? Where is the fun in that?
And so, he takes the tenth server and then the Heavenly Domain by storm, making Lord Grim his in all facets, instead of a mimicry of a forgotten, could-have-been god.
For some reason I can't explain
Once you go there was never, never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world
Topple Excellent Dynasty...
"Can I ask what this team will be called?" Ye Xiu asks. His heart clenches at the thought of Chen Guo's ambition being achieved, but the seed of bitterness dwelling in its depths rejoices at the chance for revenge. He loves Excellent Era; he nurtured it to its current pinnacle, but...this is not the Excellent Era he loves. This...is nothing but a mirage, an illusion he has hopelessly grasped hold of for far too long. He should have realized back when Wu Xuefeng retired, should have realized then that the status quo cannot stay.
Yet, he chose to blind himself and keep striking at a sword already made, slowly cracking and distorting it beyond repair. He admits, in the darkest parts of his mind, that Excellent Era's current state is his fault. He should have done more, should have stepped up to the plate and led the team to higher heights. Instead, he hung back in the shadows and watched the roots weaken from far too much exposure to the sun. He watched the club wither because of his own hesitance.
It's like a bitter cycle—the saying 'there is a thin line between love and hate' exists for a reason, after all.
"It'll naturally be called 'Happy,'" Chen Guo replies instantly, not sparing the question a second thought.
The words strike a chord within him. He falls silent and then turns away, returning to the game.
Is the name 'Happy' supposed to imply something? The thought remains with him even as his hands work on autopilot, their actions fine-tuned after a decade of disciplined use. Is this a sign? To remind him that he should feel happiness when playing Glory instead of resentment, frustration, and disappointment...to remind him that he should be having fun instead of blindly throwing his life into Glory, without a tether or a rope to pull him out of the abyss?
When Chen Guo asks if he has any objections, he replies, "No, I just wanted to know." He forces himself to appear disinterested, if only to hide his inner turmoil and self-doubt. They...all of them see him as some grand figure, a god amongst mortals, with just enough quirks to pass as a human.
Yet, do any of them see him as an actual person, he absentmindedly wonders. They look to him for everything, and he fulfills every request without the slightest hesitation, like he has always done. They see his mistakes and brush them off, when they should be striving to match and surpass him. How many have fallen short of their full potential, because they looked at him and saw an untouchable dream? It is as if his presence has created a blanket of ignorance. He has done a great disservice to the Alliance, he privately concludes, by creating such a glass ceiling.
It is a bittersweet comfort to know that he is not the only blind one in this world.
People couldn't believe what I'd become
Ye Xiu stares at his twin, the one he had essentially forsaken—another one of his many regrets. His steps are unsteady as he meanders forward, and he clenches his fists discreetly in his jacket, desperate to maintain some semblance of control. Over a decade has passed; nothing gold stays. Their bond is all but broken, and only their similar appearances connect them now. Time has taken them both on different paths and has revealed that their twinship is nothing but a lie.
"I'm here to pick you up to go back home and celebrate New Years," Ye Qiu states, eyes heavy with a storm of complex emotions. Why now? The question remains unspoken and unanswered. Ye Xiu meets his gaze steadily, staring deep into the mirrored amber abyss.
"Who says I'm going to go back?" Ye Xiu asks, his fingers unfurling slightly and brushing against his cigarette box. He's itching for a smoke, but he restrains himself. His twin already has a low opinion of him, especially after so long. Revealing his vice now, using it like a crutch, will just worsen his image. That...he has no wish to fall even lower in Ye Qiu's eyes. Not when his own thoughts of himself have already thus descended.
"If you don't go back, what are you going to do?" Ye Qiu doesn't seem to want to let this go. Does he really still want to abandon his family? Ye Xiu inwardly sighs and slumps a bit more, suddenly weary with life. His twin...does he not understand the opportunity that he has been given? The second-born, gaining the chance to rise out of the first-born's shadow—is this not a golden ticket to a better life?
"I'm going to work overtime!" Ye Xiu says with finality. His voice rings with boldness and confidence, as if each word he speaks of is imbibed with righteousness yet also nonchalance. He absently wonders if even his twin will be fooled by his mask, but the thought vanishes when the two of them fall into a familiar pattern of banter.
Unknowingly, fondness fills his eyes as he chats with Ye Qiu, his teasing remarks matched by indignant stuttering and heated jabs. For a moment, it is as if this rift between them does not exist, as if it is a mere crack in the sidewalk instead of a gaping chasm seemingly more vast than the universe.
He has to suppress the chuckle that bubbles up in his chest when Ye Qiu actually tries to manhandle him. Tries, as this younger brother of his still cannot continue through with his actions.
"It looks like you weren't educated well enough." Ye Xiu's face reveals none of his thoughts, however.
"Come back home with me!" Ye Qiu gnashes his teeth in frustration. Ye Xiu wonders if this is because he has been rejected once more or because Ye Qiu actually wants him home.
"No way," Ye Xiu declares. He hopes, regardless, that Ye Qiu is not planning to run away if he ever does return. Is it so much to ask for his family to care about him beyond his status as heir? His time has always been limited as a professional gamer; he has kept this well in mind, like his parents have. That is the only reason why his leash has always been so long and unfrayed. If they wanted, his parents could have easily barred him from joining the Glory Professional Alliance in the first place.
They instead washed their hands of him. The hurt he first felt when he realized this had left a scar that still festers to this day. Is he nothing more than a skilled tool for others to use? Maybe they wanted him to deal with the politics of a cutthroat industry on his lonesome, to stand independent and to face the consequences…
He can spend the rest of his lifetime making excuses for them and for himself, but that doesn't disguise the truth of their actions.
Gazing at a plum does not quench one's thirst. Wishing upon a star does not grant miracles.
Therefore, he buries the faint stirring of hope within his heart beneath layers of chains and behind countless walls of both ice and steel.
The sky may seem infinite, but even it quickly gives way to the void.
Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh, who would ever want to be king?
He sets the bundle of flowers on the grave and stands there silently, his eyes downcast. Beside him, Su Mucheng whispers prayers for her brother's spirit to continue resting in peace before setting down her own bundle of flowers, one made up of solely Birds of Paradise. It startled Ye Xiu at first, the brightness and vibrancy of the blossoms that she had chosen.
After all, he had carefully picked out a bouquet of pure white irises, a common choice for funeral arrangements and offerings. The dancing spirit of early spring, as it is often called. In all honesty, he has never found the time to look up flower language, but he does remember another nickname for an iris flower—a purple butterfly.
Though white, the fluttering wings of the flower remind him of why he holds Su Muqiu so dear to his heart. Once, when he had been lost and without a purpose, the Su siblings had found him and unintentionally laid out a path. Everything he has done since then, every decision he has made...has always been with Su Muqiu in mind, for Su Mucheng's sake.
Silently, he makes a new promise to Su Muqiu's grave.
This last campaign...will be to create a legacy for our dream. Then, it'll be time for me to renounce my crown for good.
His eyes close for a brief second, to allow the solemnity to manifest fully. One last performance, one final bow, for himself and for the radiant friend that all but two have forgotten. He opens his eyes, his irises flashing an incandescent gold, sealing the words of his promise. When he finally raises his head, he spies from the corner of his eye a hovering Chen Guo, whom he beckons over.
There is no point in hiding this part of his past. Su Muqiu will never be a topic he will be ashamed of.
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
"No one can understand." Ye Xiu honestly hadn't thought about pitching in his own thoughts. Yet, Little Ming's words irritates him greatly.
But can anyone understand our feelings? Do the fans not realize how self-centered such a thought is?
He ignores the looks of astonishment sent his way. He never revealed himself to the public for a reason. He plays Glory for himself, for Su Muqiu, for Su Mucheng. For them, he plays. It has never been about the fans.
"To be honest, our reason for struggling is for our own personal dreams. No one is doing it for anyone else. Only the Alliance is trying to please you guys. Don't get the wrong idea. We are very grateful for your support and encouragement, but to be blunt: saying that I'm competing for you guys is fake. At least that's the case for me." Ye Xiu sighs inwardly. This fact has been kept on the downlow for a reason.
"That's not right! If not for our support, how could there be a pro scene or pro players?!" Little Ming exclaims in indignation. The pro players depended on the fans for sponsorships. Without that, how could their value increase?
That only matters, though, if the pro players in question cared about making money from Glory. Which, a lot of them didn't. It's the ones in charge of the teams that do.
"You're correct. That's why I said that I'm very grateful for your support. I sincerely think that, but I am not competing for the sake of my fans. Those are two different matters." With that, Ye Xiu has said his piece. Glory...should be played because one wants to, not for the support of strangers they'll never even see in person.
He just hopes the rest of Team Happy will understand. Afterward, Little Ming bids them farewell and wishes them good luck, with an expiration date attached—until they faced Excellent Era.
There's always a string attached, isn't there?
In his pursuit of Glory, he essentially became a puppet on strings, tied down to such a degree that even now, he is surprised not to have drowned. At first, it had been survival. They needed the money, so he threw his all into playing. When the car accident stole Su Muqiu away, this became even more important. Su Mucheng still needed to finish her schooling, and Ye Xiu refused to take her choices away from her.
In the end, she joined him in the bloody waters of the Glory Professional Alliance anyway, taking on the mantle of Dancing Rain with a bittersweet grace. In another world, Autumn Tree should have been hers, the continuation of an inside joke that the three of them alone had shared.
Perhaps, this could be seen as the greatest symbol of Ye Xiu's regrets, the culmination of his anguish and sorrow. Dancing Rain was made in Su Mucheng's likeness, a tribute of a brother's love for his sister. It should never have reached her hands.
When the tidal waves of reprimands come from his team, Ye Xiu welcomes it. Yes, he knows that this is a truth that should not have been said, but it is still a truth that needs to be said.
"He was just a fan. Did you need to do that?" It is a surprise when these words leave Wei Chen's mouth; of all those present, Ye Xiu would have expected him to understand. Ye Xiu grimaces slightly, though the expression disappears just as quickly as it forms. Maybe he does need to explain; he never bothered to with Excellent Era...but he has learned from his mistakes. This time, he wants things to be different.
"You guys are too naive!" Ye Xiu voices, taking them all by surprise considering his previous silence. "I wasn't saying those words for him, but for you guys!"
The shock that fills the room does not surprise him. "What?"
"When you guys become pro players with numerous fans behind you, when you see their support and encouragement, you'll know they're happy, but when you don't see that support anymore, will you waver as a result?" Ye Xiu asks, a sad look in his eyes.
He has seen many pro players be felled by a lack of fan support. Confidence is to go out in the world with the knowledge that the opinions of others will not affect one's performance—it is a thin line that a pro player balances upon. Fan support is a great morale booster, but how many players have stumbled and faltered when faced with the hostility of the crowds? These guys...are like guppies thrown into the ocean; even now, the bits of the eSports world that they have experienced paint a much brighter picture than what reality actually reflects.
"That's...quite deep?" Chen Guo doesn't know what else to say. After all, she doesn't have the mindset of a pro player, even if she is slowly bridging that gap. This entire episode has been one shock after another.
"This isn't a trivial matter. It's very important. Every one of you needs to clearly understand why you compete. This will decide what type of path you end up walking and how far you'll go." Ye Xiu pauses to recollect himself. He needs to choose his next words carefully; he knows that most others do not share the same mindset that he does. The cutthroat training he underwent as an heir, as well as his ten years of experience in the eSports world, has led to a very distinctive way of thinking. There is a reason only four, perhaps five, black-hearted tacticians have ever arisen. The title is not bestowed lightly, just because of their strategic skill...there is a distinct element of flair and control that must be present.
Ruthless. Relentless. Meticulous. Unforgiving.
The black-hearted tacticians leave no survivors in their wake. When they set their plans into motion, they aim directly for the throat; they slash cleanly through the jugular without a moment's hesitation.
The four simply have different methods of execution.
Briefly glancing around, Ye Xiu explains, "Playing to please the fans is okay, but if you want to become a champion, then relying on that sort of motivation will be very difficult. What the fans like may not be what is correct. What suits you best depends on you, because you are the pro player."
Everyone looks contemplative a they slowly ruminate over Ye Xiu's words. The concept is nothing new for them, in fact, but it is something they have never before expressed in words.
Wei Chen nods all of a sudden and voices his agreement. "Correct." He adopts a far more serious tone than his usual jovial air. "If you want to win, do what you think is most necessary. Nothing else needs to be considered." None of the top pro players would have gotten very far if they depended on the support of fans or the opinions of those who did not matter.
In the end, everyone only has themselves to rely on.
Glory, however, was never made to be played alone.
"That's what we say, but abandoning all else to win and resorting to extremely underhanded methods shouldn't be done either. We're still people, after all." Silently, Ye Xiu adds, We're still human, and humans love to watch gods fall. Alone, such an outcome is an inescapable destiny.
He closes his eyes briefly before opening them to reveal flames of resolve burning within those amber irises. He focuses on everyone around him, no—on his team. A soft smile graces his face.
Yet together, it is possible to escape even the inevitable.
Never an honest word
A wave of melancholy washes over Ye Xiu as he counters Qiu Fei's Dragon Tooth with a Double Stab, the bluff working exactly as expected. Combat Form fails to dodge, and Ye Xiu strings along a slew of skills to keep the Battle Mage suppressed.
—Sky Strike! Shuriken! Moonlight Slash! Gore Cross! Earthquake Sword! Shadow Cloak!—
Being an Unspecialized is both a blessing and a curse; it glorifies his own skill to the point where he himself feels blinded.
His reign ended long ago—this is his last hurrah, his last campaign before the inevitable end that inches closer and closer every day. In front of the rest of his team, he appears omnipotent, invincible even. Yet, hidden deep below the surface of his sallow skin, in his ash-white bones, in the crimson red blood that courses through his veins, he knows that this is all a facade. He can feel the minute trembles that threaten to overtake once reliable hands, the slivers of hesitation that threaten to shatter a previously unpenetrable confidence. He understands now why Wei Chen walked away from the scene without a second glance back, understands why Zhang Jiale chose to sever ties with everything he ever loved. He even understands why Wu Xuefeng refused to stay, despite his desperate pleas.
"One more season, Old Wu. Please. Just one more."
"No, Little Ye. My time was over long ago. Even now, I feel as if I persist on strength borrowed from others. From you."
He could see that same enigmatic smile in his mind now, the smile that had congratulated him in his victories and comforted him in his losses. It was a smile that said that there was no darkness residing in this world, for how could there be, if such smile existed to illuminate it? It had remained a beacon, unwavering and true, even as their tearful farewell had threatened to tear Ye Xiu apart.
"Never cease in the quest for your glory, Little Ye. Don't worry about me. Three is enough. It is more than I could have ever asked for. I've never had a chance to say this before, but thank you. For giving me this opportunity to bask in the light that blazes within you. For giving me the courage to seek the same happiness that you do, and for sharing it with me when you finally found it. Thank you, Little Ye."
No, Old Wu. It was I who should have thanked you.
But that was when I ruled the world
Ye Xiu absentmindedly wonders now if Qiu Fei, his former protege, has seen past the shroud of victory that clings to his frame. It is not as if he is so spectacular that one finds it impossible to look at him; the problem is that no one bothers to look beyond the picture the world paints of him.
Even he knows that his skill is not far beyond that of the other pro players. Perhaps it is just a bit more refined, a tad more developed. His passion and love for Glory is similarly unexceptional, though it is perhaps different in its purity. For in his heart, Glory is all that exists.
Ye Xiu is, at his core, a very simple person.
Those remarks made by others, about his declining skill and faltering performance, are not as baseless as his supporters believe. He knows his limit is being approached...no, it is shrinking. Thus, this final season, this final grab for a championship—is all to engrave his true legacy into history.
Let this be the highlight of his career, because now he is not competing solely for winning. Now, he is competing simply for the joy found within Glory.
—Shattering the Lands!—
A smile creeps onto Ye Xiu's face. Qiu Fei...has begun to exit his shell. He is finally stepping forward onto his own path.
He waits. Lord Grim suffers under the relentless combo of Battle Mage skills, and hit after hit has him inwardly wincing yet proud all the same.
Fifteen hits...sixteen hits...eighteen...twenty...now!
In a sudden burst of speed, Ye Xiu maneuvers Lord Grim underground, escaping the barrage of twenty-one, almost twenty-two hits.
His chest loosens slightly once this is done; one wrong move would have spelled his end. Qiu Fei has truly grown into himself, so Ye Xiu refuses to do him a disservice. His fingers fly across the keys as he pulls Lord Grim into executing Vanishing Step, his mind emptying of other thoughts. Now is not the time for reminiscing. Qiu Fei does not deserve anything less than his full attention.
One of his few regrets is leaving this little starcatcher behind, a fledgling alone amidst the shadows of a shooting star.
His concentration does not falter, but he can see in his mind's eye the spark of light that has trailed behind him for so long. It's time to let this spark go, to set it free of his own trailing, fading streak of light.
The peril of being a light chaser is the threat of being scorched beyond repair, of becoming nothing more than an afterimage, blotted out and forgotten on the edge of a dying star's final burst of starlight. To do so is to spell one's own doom, but a delicate touch, or the near lack thereof, can nurture even the faintest light into a blazing inferno.
Create your own light, your own constellation in the sky, Little Fei, Ye Xiu muses softly. Why chase after my own burning embers? The leaves are already falling—heralding autumn—with the encroaching outbreak of frost close at hand... The coming spring may well bring new tidings and winds, but my time will be over by then. It is time for you to let go my shadows—and carve a legacy anew. The ancients may have but one chance at reshaping their stories, but the young have all the world open to them.
Thus, free yourself from the shackles of my umbrage, and show me what you can do; show me the blinding blaze of your own celestial ascendancy.
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
"I have told you before," Ye Xiu types, each word deliberately nonchalant even as he faces Sun Xiang alongside An Wenyi—with the former at an advantage in health. "Glory was never made to be played alone. Now, Sun Xiang...what do you see?" Issued into the public chat, the words frame the entire situation in another light. Two against one...what does Sun Xiang see?
"Yes...Glory was never made to be played alone…" These words flash upon the screen like an earth-shattering decree bestowed by the heavens. Without even typing 'gg,' Sun Xiang silently resigns the match, succumbing to the wolves that have never stopped hunting Excellent Era. Come tomorrow, the ghostly beast of death will finally rear his head.
Ye Xiu stares at the screen for a moment.
No, Excellent Era has not fallen. It'll rise from the ashes like a cicada, a phoenix reborn. This ordeal has tempered them further than I believed possible.
Who would have thought that his own words, no, Su Muqiu's words, would be thrown back into his face all of a sudden, by someone he had few expectations for? To think that even this unruly junior has blossomed…Ye Xiu smiles and nods in acknowledgement, even if Sun Xiang cannot see it.
Happy...unexpectedly wins the Challenger League.
"Yes, Happy has won. A miracle—they have created a miracle." Li Yibo cannot help but sigh endlessly, a maelstrom of emotions running through him. He feels as if he is watching a rainbow form before his eyes, a rainbow in broad daylight without even a speck of rain or artificial reflection nearby.
A miracle.
How else can it be described? How else can the feelings running rampant through all those watching be characterized? What has exactly happened? How has this happened?
Ye Xiu turns away from his celebrating team to glance over at Excellent Era. Even if he cannot hear exactly what is being said, he can make inferences from the sheer fury radiating off of Tao Xuan. He smiles when he seems the indifference with which Sun Xiang responds.
"The match hadn't ended yet, so why did you resign?!" Tao Xuan's voice is akin to a clap of thunder as he funnels all of his frustration and anger at this so-called Best Rookie, the ace of Excellent Era, a future God. Sun Xiang.
The boy—no, perhaps Ye Xiu should call him a man now—merely shakes his head and simply states, "I could not win, not like that."
Looking out of the corner of his eye, Sun Xiang glimpses a glint of amber. He holds Ye Xiu's gaze, and, for a brief moment, a flash of understanding links the two of them..
Yes, Glory was never made to be played alone.
Team Happy…Ye Xiu walks onto the stage with his team at his back, a champion once more..
Even if this is only the Challenger League, they are champions. An endless horizon of opportunity awaits them.
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world
—Glory!—
Those words flash across the screen, shocking the world into silence.
That one word signals the beginning of a new reign, of a new dynasty, of a new era.
Glory Professional Alliance's tenth season ends, with the champions being decided in just 3.5 seconds.
Just 3.5 seconds—
What happened? It all occurred so fast, a sudden blitz of light with stars trailing in its wake. In such a show of skill...no one can contest the results. No one present wants to contest the results.
The summit of Glory...its new rulers have descended.
No, ascended more like—dying stars strike the earth and dissolve, igniting the hidden kernels of flame and passion underground, giving rise to a new era.
Ye Xiu settles back, his fingers half-numb.
764 APM… He is not human.
This thought flashes through the minds of all those present on the scene or watching from afar. This fading God, this dying star, can achieve such a feat? Can create another such miracle?
His speed; his accuracy; in those 6.5 seconds, during that flurry of keystrokes, a miracle had been realized.
Ye Xiu…
He has done it. Once again, after years of languishing in the shadows, he has finally reforged himself...and has returned to claim his crown. In this silence, he basks in the sense of tranquility that follows, finally content.
Seven years of shadows…
An additional three prior to that, hidden in the background, caged within a shell of himself…
—Light!—
On that snowy night…
Ye Xiu looks out toward the crowd, a fourth championship ring glittering on his hand.
That day…
Scenes flash through his mind—a boy with his head tossed back, laughing; a girl with a beaming smile and a blossoming inner beauty…
A flash of fire in those forged bronze eyes, accompanied by a glare and a promise, a challenge…
A pillar unearthed, sparked by a glowing dome of protection...
A decision made thrice, each one gradually bringing forth a destiny he refused to accept…
A cage gilded in gold, expectations arising with each breath he took...
Shadows and memories haunting his every step…
Mistakes, missed opportunities, the presence at his back both comforting yet lacking…
Whispers and taunts swirling around in a relentless, disorienting storm…
Fingers scrabbling at a slick cliff, slipping and missing, heralding a fall into an unfathomable sea...
Left adrift with no direction, without a bedrock to cling to…
Floating, endlessly, sinking...
I had the fortune to meet you…
It unfurls like silky white petals, gold and red accentuating each edge and point. A myriad of feelings manifest within him every time he sees this umbrella, this crystallization of their hopes and dreams, this unexpected lifeline at his lowest moment. A thousand chances both taken and not—all coalescing into this unassuming form…
A grassroots team, inexperienced yet ambitious…
Stumbling, falling, but not once faltering, forcing open a path to the summit and leaving behind a trail of carnage...
Faces old and new, destinies altered, decisions made that cannot be taken back…
Glory...
A hundred hurdles overcome.
A thousand walls broken down, rebuilt.
A legacy forged within the final embers of a dying star.
For who?
The most unforgettable you…
Ye Xiu smiles, a most heartbreaking smile. Thank you, everyone.
Long Live Glory