The roar of the crowd was deafening."War God! War God! War God!"Marco Rossi's fingers flew across the keyboard, his warrior avatar cleaving through the final boss with surgical precision. The health bar dropped—ten percent, five, one—and then shattered into a thousand golden fragments. Victory. Absolute, undeniable victory."Ladies and gentlemen, the War God has done it!" the announcer's voice cracked with excitement. "Against all predictions, against every tier list and meta analysis, he's proven the warrior class supreme! Marco Rossi is your Sky Game World Champion!"Marco leaned back in his chair, pulling off his headset. The stadium lights blazed around him, thousands of faces screaming his name. Three years of being mocked, three years of hearing how warriors were trash, how he'd never make it past regionals—all of it washed away in this single moment."Now for the prize ceremony—"The screen went black.Not just his screen. Every screen in the arena. The lights flickered, died

The Warrior Temple wasn't a temple at all.Marco stared at the ruins before him, his stomach sinking. Crumbling stone walls choked with ivy. A collapsed archway half-buried in weeds. Shattered statues whose faces had been worn away by centuries of rain. This wasn't just abandoned—it was dead."This is it?" Marco's voice came out flat.Father Dominic's expression was pained. "I'm afraid so. The Warrior Temples across the continent all suffered the same fate. It happened thousands of years ago, during what scholars call the Great Severance.""What happened?""No one knows for certain." The priest picked his way through the overgrown courtyard, gesturing at the broken stones. "One day, every Warrior Temple simply... collapsed. The divine connection severed. The warrior's inheritance was lost. Some say the War God abandoned his followers. Others claim a great curse befell the profession." He paused. "Either way, without divine guidance, without proper techniques and training methods, warr

The academy training grounds blazed under the afternoon sun, heat radiating off the packed earth in shimmering waves. Marco spotted Sofia immediately—she was in the center ring, her sword flashing as she faced off against Father Dominic, sweat soaking through her training clothes."Again!" Father Dominic called, parrying her strike. "Your footwork is sloppy! Plant your back foot or you'll be swept!"Sofia gritted her teeth and lunged. Her blade whistled through the air, but Father Dominic sidestepped effortlessly, tapping her shoulder with the flat of his sword."Dead. Third time in a row.""I'm trying!" Sofia's frustration was evident. "I just—""Pathetic."The voice was cold, cutting through the training ground like a knife. A man in knight's armor approached, his cape bearing the insignia of a captain. His face was weathered, scarred from real combat, and his eyes held zero sympathy."Captain Bennett," Father Dominic said carefully. "I was just—""Wasting your time, apparently." Ca

Marco's heart hammered as he lowered his training sword, the reality of what just happened crashing over him. He'd won. Against an eighth-level knight. At Level 1.But as the adrenaline faded, clarity returned. He hadn't won through overwhelming power. He'd won because Giovanni didn't know the old techniques. Didn't expect combo chains. Didn't understand that warrior skills could flow together like water when properly executed. It was knowledge versus experience—and knowledge had barely edged out a victory.If Giovanni had known what was coming, if he'd been prepared...Marco pushed the thought away and extended his hand to the kneeling knight. "You're strong, Captain. Stronger than me by a long shot. I just had the element of surprise."Giovanni stared at the offered hand for a long moment before taking it. "Don't humble yourself, boy. You beat me fair and square." He climbed to his feet, his legs still unsteady. "But I want answers. Where did you learn those techniques? Who taught y

The Warrior Shrine smelled like old stone and burnt incense, which Lorenzo seemed to find deeply spiritual and Marco found mildly suffocating."Magnificent." Lorenzo was still going. He'd been going for ten minutes. "Absolutely magnificent. The way she executed Bastion Strike in the third exchange — the timing, the angle — that is your teaching, Young Master. Your vision. Your genius made manifest in—""It's basic stuff," Marco said."Basic." Lorenzo repeated the word like Marco had just called the sun a nightlight. "Young Master, that girl dismantled an eighth-level knight in front of the entire academy. Knights twice her level were standing in that arena with their mouths open like fish.""She did the work. I just showed her where to point it." Marco dropped onto the wooden bench along the shrine wall and stretched his arms above his head. "And keep your voice down about all of it. I don't need the whole academy speculating about where she learned that."Lorenzo pressed his lips tog