White, ethereal wings emerged as they flew up, their auras shimmering. They moved in sync, tracing complex patterns with their hands, starting with a circular motion. With both palms pressed together, they unleashed a cacophony of brilliant beams of light that resonated through the stone walls and shook the floor, filling the air with a burning scent.

Deming smirked, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the beams. "They're courting their demise." The chains around his limbs and neck vanished. With flawless precision, he dodged the attack, tilting his shoulder and spinning to face his opponents.

Blazing fire emanated from his eyes. He raised his arms and redirected them back toward the soldiers until they met their end, exploding in blinding light and deafening noise. Arms crossed, a fleeting satisfaction softened his aloof demeanor as he took in the explosion.

"You tried," Deming mused with a short, dismissive wave, his expression twisting with malevolence. A cruel smirk settled on his lips as he taunted in a deep voice, "I wish you could see your faces."

"Stay alert, everyone!" the faerie general ordered, his voice unsteady. "Lord Muchen is nearly here! Hold your positions!"

"What? You cannot stop me without him?" Deming ridiculed, though the mention of Muchen made his jaw clench and a bitter taste rise in his throat. 'Does Muchen have another trick up his sleeve to trap me?'

As he observed the general's trembling form, his eyes drifted toward the shadows, where a fleeting tension marred his otherwise composed expression.

His low, venomous voice resonated in the stone chamber. "How amusing... I suppose it is your lucky day. I may have to postpone my plan to obliterate this realm. But do not worry; I always keep my promises. And when I return, perhaps I will start with your loved ones first. I shall chain them deep in your dungeons, make them yearn to see the light and sky again, knowing they can only dream about it, day after day. They shall scream in agony while you watch helplessly, begging me to stop. And I shall remain still, just as you did all these years, watching me suffer."

The general narrowed his eyes, confusion etched across his face. 'What is he... talking about? I've never...'

Deming's voice dropped to a vicious growl. "And it shall not stop there. On the lands where you have raised your children, I shall build statues of our people from your ashes. And as for Muchen, he shall be where he always needed to be—under our feet."

The general's face drained of color, his lips parting as his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. His eyes widened, and his hands shook with unrestrained intensity.

~*~

Meilin sat, her hands hovering over the glowing keyboard and mouse. 'The coach is making me nervous... How am I supposed to concentrate like this?'

Once the game began, she mapped out her jungle path and cleared the camps. An opposing player had set a trap near the red buff, hiding in a patch of tall grass to ambush her. She hesitated, a gut instinct urging her to reconsider her path. Instead of walking into the trap, she exposed the trap and adjusted her route, avoiding the ambush.

Ningshun's eyes moved between her and the large monitor, tracking every action she took. 'Good. She isn't as reckless here as in her other matches.'

She observed the mini-map for threats. She coordinated with her team, setting up ambushes to turn the tables in her favor, which left the other team frustrated as their traps and tricks failed to land.

The coach leaned in, eyeing her speed and accuracy. 'With Ningshun's incredible gameplay mechanics and Meilin's strategy, this team could be... unbeatable.'

Near the end of the match, the opposing team tried one final tactic—setting an ambush near the Dragon Pit. Unease struck her; something was off. She signaled her team to hold back, choosing not to rush in. When the other team revealed their ambush, she pushed toward the enemy base, instructing her team to delay the enemies' teleportation. Her strategy paid off, leading to her team's victory.

After a few more solo sessions and matches with Solaris' team members, the coach's skepticism melted away, replaced by a genuine smile and a light clap. "Well done. I think we've seen enough. Welcome to the team, Meilin. We're glad to have you." The coach extended his hand.

Meilin, her heart still racing from the intense gameplay, shook his hand with a firm grip. "Thank you so much!" She glanced at Ningshun, who nodded back.

"Oh, and Ningshun, come to my office. Help me with paperwork." The coach's gaze bore into him, lingering longer than necessary, hinting at suspicion.

~*~

The coach's modern office featured a large desk, comfortable chairs, and a wall adorned with photos from past tournaments.

He sat behind the desk, tapping a pen against a stack of organized papers, his mind lost in concentration. When the tapping ceased, he leaned back in his chair, studying Ningshun for a moment. "Well, I'll admit it... Meilin did a great job today—better than I expected. You were right about her."

Ningshun, seated across from him, nodded with a faint smile. "Told you she's good."

The coach leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze sharp as it met Ningshun's. "Yeah, about that. When we first talked about her, I thought she was cheating. But after today, it's clear she's just really good at reading people in the game." He glanced at the team's large logo on the wall and then back at Ningshun, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "I see you weren't swayed by... other things. Well, she's a beauty, after all."

Ningshun gave a light chuckle, dismissing the comment with a casual wave. "Oh, you think so? I don't know, maybe... I didn't really notice."

The coach's eyes narrowed, smirking. "You really didn't notice?"

"Seems to me you noticed it more than I did." Ningshun laughed.

"Watch what you say, Ningshun," the coach teased, lifting his pen with a playful smile, as if to swat him with it.

Ningshun leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave a deep sigh. "Look, beauty doesn't win games. Skill does."

The coach nodded and accepted the answer. "Good point." Satisfied, he picked up the contract from his desk and handed it to Ningshun. "Take this to Meilin. It's our offer for her to join the team. If she's okay with it, I'll sign it."

Ningshun took the contract and smiled. "No worries. I'll see if she gets it."

He stood and headed for the door, his gaze lingering just a beat too long on the coach's eyes as they followed him. Then, with a turn, he went down the hallway, replaying the earlier conversation in his head with his lips curled, but the smirk never reached his eyes.

"You can never read me, coach." Ningshun's voice had a sharpness, a cutting edge just beneath the surface.

As he prowled back toward Meilin in the training room, his footsteps echoed in the silence. His gaze flicked to the far door—so quick, it could have been missed—before his features smoothed into something more neutral. Too neutral.