By the ti the host finished speaking, the entire stadium was already echoing with chants of "King of Night."
But the host shook his head. As the final ga character flashed onto the screen, he announced the ID, "Summoner White, Veridia’s first and uncrowned king of PvP—Divine Whitlock! Let’s welco them!"
"What—"
Julian Lawson of Team PL cried out in shock, his gaze imdiately shooting toward the entrance on the opposite side of the stage.
After a mont of silence, the DAF fans erupted into a thunderous roar.
Veteran fans, regardless of their team allegiance, were all shouting "Divine Whitlock" at the top of their lungs.
The entire venue seed to be on the verge of chaos. Many veteran fans had already stood up, ready to rush the stage, until a powerful presence emanating from the entrance quelled the commotion.
The six mbers of the DAF Team walked in slowly from the entrance. Each one wore the sa outfit—a hat and a mask, completely obscuring their faces.
"Divine Whitlock—"
"Divine Whitlock—"
"Divine Whitlock—"
The fans in the arena chanted rhythmically.
The host and Julian Lawson were so excited they looked ready to rush forward.
Once the team was in position, Julian Lawson beat the host to the punch, asking eagerly, "Which one of you is Divine Whitlock? Can I get your autograph?"
The host laughed and teased him for a mont before eagerly asking the mbers of the DAF Team to introduce themselves.
Alvin Morgan, standing in the middle, was the third to speak. His introduction was brief, just like Aurora Sinclair’s had been. "Summoner, White."
Julian Lawson started forward again in his excitent, but Windwalker blocked him. "Lawson, watch your composure! Your teammates are all watching!"
Julian Lawson glanced back and saw his teammates. They wore sour expressions, clearly displeased with his behavior.
He laughed and said, "They’re just kids. They’ve never seen Divine Whitlock play before. I hope you’ll go easy on them."
It was ant to be a polite remark, but unexpectedly, White replied, "Don’t worry. We won’t make it a 20-0."
The words were dripping with provocation, and the younger fans in the audience imdiately started booing.
This disdainful attitude made the veteran fans seethe. ’These damn kids need a lesson. What do they know about how powerful Divine Whitlock is?’
’Just you wait. You’re all about to get put in your place and eat your words...’
As the countdown to the match began, the players from both teams took their positions.
Surprisingly, the first one up for the individual match was White.
Julian Lawson of Team PL was instantly filled with regret. He had guessed Master Rory would be up first, so he’d sent out his team’s weakest player, intending to sacrifice a pawn for a better matchup later—a classic Tian Ji horse racing strategy.
’If I had known, I would have gone up first myself.’
’Such a great chance to compete against my idol. I would’ve been happy even if I lost.’
「On the other side.」
Alvin Morgan calmly walked into the gaming booth, put on his headphones, and logged into his account.
Instantly, his unique the music echoed through the arena.
As the familiar battle anthem played, tears welled up in the veteran fans’ eyes.
A Summoner clad in armor with a tallic sheen made a brilliant entrance—the unique gear of a weapons-based Summoner.
The veteran fans held their breath, a nostalgic glint in their eyes as they watched Alvin Morgan slowly guide White forward.
But so of the younger, more impulsive fans began to scoff with disdain.
"Tch, what garbage chanics? And they call him a ’god’? My grandma could mash buttons faster than that."
"Exactly. The guy’s in his thirties, he’s practically got one foot in the e-sports grave. He shouldn’t be up here embarrassing himself."
"BOOO—"
The boos erupted one after another in the arena, infuriating the DAF fans.
But the experienced veteran fans weren’t angry in the slightest. In fact, they were secretly suppressing their laughter.
’The more casual Divine Whitlock seed, the more his opponents fell apart.’
’In the end, they always suffered a grueso defeat.’
Sure enough, when the two were just two character-lengths from each other, White launched the first attack.
A small, red-glowing robot appeared in front of him and dashed straight ahead.
With a huge BOOM, PL the Mage instantly lost a fifth of his health.
Furious, PL the Mage imdiately raised his wooden staff to begin casting a Spell, but a transforming robot suddenly appeared in front of him, unleashing a dense barrage of bullets.
The bullets knocked the Mage into the air, and the massive combo counter on the side of the screen began to climb rapidly.
PL the Mage was completely helpless, his health bar steadily depleting all the way down to one-third.
Then, the robot transford again, its Cannon and Laser Weapon taking turns pumling him so relentlessly that he couldn’t even get a single attack off as his health continued to plumt.
And throughout this entire maneuver, the big screen showed Alvin Morgan’s APM was only hovering around 150.
Compared to his opponent’s 120, it wasn’t a huge difference. The damage was high, but the insult was higher.
Keep in mind, PL the Mage’s APM could peak at around 400, yet in their very first clash, he was completely thrashed.
What was most tragic was that just as he managed to escape the attack range, feeling he could finally counter-attack, he stepped on a mine that had been planted in advance.
With a deafening BOOM, PL the Mage’s health bar was wiped clean.
It took White 8 minutes and 36 seconds to secure a flawless victory over PL the Mage.
The arena erupted with explosive cheers from the DAF fans.
The fans who had been talking trash suddenly felt a sting in their cheeks...
"I can’t believe it. After over a decade away from the competitive scene, Alvin’s style is still so devious... That mine was pure genius..." Arthur Lockwood said with a wicked grin.
Benjamin Morgan replied nonchalantly, "Alvin’s a bit of a perfectionist. Aside from matters concerning Aurora, he generally prefers not to get his own hands dirty..."
"..."
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