Feng Deming:
In a distant realm beyond the known world lay Astara, an ancient land of demons. The young prince, Feng Deming, who appeared no older than ten years of age by human standards, raced through fields alongside the lieutenant. The grass brushed against his legs as they sprinted into the fading daylight on the horizon, hope and uncertainty pushing them forward. His heart raced with each step, breath quickening in sync with the lieutenant's as they fled for their lives until they stopped in the center of the field.
Deming's breath caught as the hundreds of high fairy lords loomed ahead, blocking their path. "Enemies," he murmured, his heart quickening, fear dilating his pupils at the sight of the fairies for the first time. Preparing to flee, he quickly shifted his gaze to the lieutenant, ready to anticipate his next move.
"Lord Muchen," the lieutenant whispered.
"Muchen?" Deming's heart raced, a knot forming in his chest as he locked eyes with the fairy leader. 'He killed my father.' A tear escaped his eye, and his fists clenched in fury, replaying his father's last words in his mind.
"Take my son to safety, Lieutenant. Protect him with your life."
Without a word, the lieutenant slowly lowered his sword. The silence thickened with tension, broken only by the prince's rapid breaths and the distant murmur of the fairies.
"What are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!" Deming cried out as the lieutenant approached the fairy leader.
"My lord, you have arrived early."
"What? Him?" Deming's jaw dropped, and he turned to the lieutenant and the fairy leader, eyes widening at the lieutenant's indifference. Like a setting sun, the vibrancy in his golden eyes dimmed as the truth slowly sank in. "Don't tell me... that you..."
"Truthfully, Lieutenant, I had concerns that you would not uphold your end of the deal. However, I admit I was mistaken." The fairy leader, Lord Muchen, nodded and commanded, "NOW!"
With a flick of the fairies' wrists, they activated the chains wrapped around Deming's limbs, empowered by twenty layers of glyphs.
'What... is this?' Deming eyed the phantom chains encircling his wrists, brows furrowing with concern. He struggled to free himself from the chains, but they held firm, resisting his every effort. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he grasped the futility of his attempts—the glyphs reinforcing the bindings proved too powerful to overcome.
"I promise I shall take good care of my slave."
"Me? A slave?" Deming's jaw clenched, eyes boring into Lord Muchen in anger. He turned to the lieutenant, gaze intense as he whispered, "What is happening?"
The Astaran lieutenant's eyebrows furrowed as he moved forward with suspicion, capturing Deming's attention. He whispered, "What is happening? Your father was a coward who prioritized himself and his son over his own people. I am only doing what he lacked the guts to do for the safety of Astara. And as its new ruler, I will do it right." With a deep bow before the fairy leader, he swept his hand from his chest toward Deming in a grand gesture. "Lord Muchen, as you requested."
Deming's pulse quickened, gaze hardening as he fixed it on the lieutenant with a piercing glare. "You..." his voice trembled.
The lieutenant sneered, savoring his victory while maintaining his facade in front of the fairy leader. "In exchange for my life and the Supreme Throne of Astara, I present Feng Deming—the crown prince."
Disgust etched itself into Deming's features as he glared at the lieutenant. "You despicable traitor!" he spat, voice quivering with rage. "My father was a blind man to trust a coward who stoops to slavery. You are a mockery of a king."
The lieutenant stepped back, eyes darting between Deming and Lord Muchen, sweat trickling down his forehead. 'I have no choice... If I don't hand over the prince, Astara is doomed. The fairies would wipe us out,' he agonized, guilt tearing at his soul. "I am aware that slavery goes against our principles. However..." He acknowledged his treason and the strict prohibition against slavery, a code ingrained within his tribe since its foundation millions of years ago. 'There's nothing I can do now.'
In a final attempt, Deming's eyes pleaded with the lieutenant, silently begging for compassion, even as the chains held him firmly in place.
His troubled gaze shifted, unable to meet Deming's eyes, and he stated, "He is all yours," and walked away without turning back.
Lord Muchen's eyes flickered with pleasure as he stepped forward with grace, eyeing the prince with satisfaction. "A most generous offering, indeed."
Deming's fists clenched, fury blazed in his eyes, molten lava raging within them as his once-prestigious life crumbled into a living hell. "One day, the Fairy Realm will fall, and its name will be forgotten forever—along with yours," he declared, voice fuming with anger. "I promise you this!"
As the fairies approached Feng Deming, their footsteps pounded like drumbeats against his chest. His breaths grew shallow as the general shrank from view, and the fairies drew nearer.
"You will all regret this, mark my words!" Deming raged, a storm brewing in his eyes. His muscles strained against the phantom chains of his captors, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought against the overwhelming force pressing down on him. Resisting tears, memories of his father's teachings echoed in his mind, urging him to stand firm in the face of hardship.
"Listen closely, my son—never allow yourself to be trapped... You are our only hope against their millions of years of oppression. The fairies want to crush our pride and destroy our culture. If we lose our identity, everything our ancestors achieved will turn to dust. We will be nothing... They want to weaken us by making us less protective of our heritage, which will divide Astara. If they succeed, fairy worship will occur here and doom us all... that even death is a mercy.
Even if they take away our lands and try to break our spirit, we must never turn the other cheek and abandon our ideology... We are Astarans; we never surrender to oppression or lose our dignity, even if death comes near.
One day, you must lead our people, because only you can stand up to the fairies until the end... When the time is right, I will reveal who you truly are. Until then, never forget our legacy, our culture, and who we are as a people... Always remember who you are, Feng Deming."
Hope brightened Deming's eyes. He frowned with determination, lips pressed tightly together as he exhaled sharply through his nose. 'Now I see why he never wanted me to waste time and play like the other kids...' Memories of grueling training sessions flooded his mind, his muscles tensing with each remembered exertion. 'That deciphering technique... I haven't mastered it yet, but I will... Father, I promise I'll never slack off, and I'll restore Astara's glory... and once I decipher those seals, I'll break free...' A knot of dread tightened in his chest, constricting his breath as he imagined the suffocating consequence of entrapment. His jaw clenched, and he released a shaky breath. 'But what if I fail after breaking out... and be trapped again... and never see my home again until I die? What will they do to Astara and... to my people?'
"Take this... monster... away," Muchen's words hissed, each syllable filled with loathing.
Deming's heart clenched at the accusation. 'Monster,' the word reverberated within him, twisting his insides. 'Father knew something about me that he didn't tell. Maybe that's why he trained me all my life. Maybe I am... a monster.'
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Thousands of years passed since the fall of the previous Astaran king and Feng Deming's imprisonment, kept deep underground within the dungeon to ensure the safety of the Fairy Realm. The young prince, now in his late teens, possessed strikingly handsome features, sculpted precisely according to the golden ratio: a pointed nose, defined cheekbones, and eyebrows as sharp as daggers. His long, dark-brown hair flowed down to his thighs, enhancing his captivating appearance.
The dungeon emitted a musty odor, its walls marked with droplets of his blood as a reminder of years of insufferable torture. Focused solely on breaking the phantasmal chains that bound him, he had studied the twenty seals during his captivity. With closed eyes and a glowing forehead, he diligently deciphered them, yearning for the liberty to walk free once more.
'How satisfying it would be to see no trace of their world, all by my own hands,' Deming entertained as his lips curled into an evil, pleasure-filled smirk. 'Their mutilated bodies shall be my masterpiece, and their painful screams, well, the sweetest melody to my ears... And all of that is within my grasp now.'
With his eyes tightly shut, he listened intently as heavy footsteps approached the dungeon and the faint murmur of male voices.
Aware of Feng Deming's immense power, many self-proclaimed 'gods' had gathered to prevent his escape. The fairy general, also known as 'the god of war,' shouted through the dungeon, "Cease, demon!"
Deming did not open his eyes yet, not when he was this close to breaking the seal. 'Now, they shall witness the true meaning of what they call... a monster,' he sneered as he continued to decode.
The general's voice grew more forceful. "I said, stop!" His hand formed a beam of light.
Despite the repeated warnings, Deming did not halt his work.
Frustration and dread gripped the general as he turned to his troops. "Attack!"
With a burst of energy, the group fired brilliant beams of light at the chained-up demon, following the man's orders without hesitation. However, even when they joined forces, their combined strength could not hold Deming back.
And at this moment, his efforts to break the seals paid off. In a seamless effort, the chains that had tightly constricted his limbs and neck, strangling him with pressure, vanished.
The demon's eyes, golden like molten metal and framed by long lashes, held a deadly beauty forged from untold suffering and the promise of vengeance. They opened, sweeping a terrifying glare of disdain over the group. With a smirk, he taunted in a deep voice, "I wish you could see your faces."
"Stay alert, everyone!" the fairy general gritted his teeth. "Lord Muchen is nearly here! Stay put!"
The mere mention of Muchen caused Deming's eye to twitch and his jaws to clench. 'Why is he depending on him? Don't tell me that Lord Muchen... has another trick up his sleeve to trap me?' He locked eyes with the terrified general and gave him a daring smirk. 'How amusing... So, the plan to obliterate this entire realm is postponed... No matter... First, I shall eradicate these pests, then return to Astara to reclaim my throne, retrieve our stolen lands and historical artifacts, learn every detail about the fairies' schemes, and then destroy their realm. I should not let my guard down. Muchen is cunning.'
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A soldier rushed into the throne room, his voice urgent. "My lord, the Astaran prince is on the verge of breaking free!" Sunlight, intense and glaring, bounced off his gleaming white armor, illuminating a vibrant glow on the crystal pillars of the chamber. A faint scent of incense filled the room, blending its sweet and earthy fragrance.
This news filled Lord Muchen's heart with anxiety as he murmured, "That cannot be... he is just a boy."
Lord Muchen, a middle-aged man, wore a long, white robe that signified his authority. His partially tied-back hair, as black as night, allowed a few stray strands to frame his sharp features. Atop his head rested a golden crown, its twisted plant stem design symbolizing his connection to nature and his role as ruler.
Muchen's hands trembled without control. "Seal... that... demon," he urged in a strained voice, his teeth clenched so tightly they threatened to shatter, his eyes bulging with fear. "Summon all the high gods. IMMEDIATELY!"
"Yes, my lord," the fairy soldier bowed, only to be interrupted by the ground shaking with great force. Both their eyes widened in shock.
"Hurry!" Muchen scowled in disdain. 'If Feng Deming roams free, our demise is inevitable.'
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Deming tilted his head, regarding the fairy general with a cold stare as the general's breath hitched, sweat trickling down his forehead. Overwhelmed by fear, he could only meet the demon prince's deadly gaze with trembling eyes.
The fairy general appeared to be in his mid-twenties, long silver hair adding to his handsome appearance, an elegant gold head chain with a jewel hanging from it resting against his forehead, matching his vibrant blue eyes.
The demon's golden eyes now blazed fiery red, his dark aura pulsating and radiating eerie energy as he clenched his fists. Time froze, and in an instant, a violent eruption shook the dungeon.
The unfortunate fairies nearest to him vanished in a cloud of smoke, their painful screams of hundreds echoing throughout the dungeon. The air filled with a strong, smoky odor of burnt matches and materials for those who survived the attack.
The general, overwhelmed, succumbed to the ruthless assault. Drops of blood trickled from his trembling lips as he muttered in confusion and fear, "What... what is he?"
"Make sure you prepare for my return, for I shall reduce your precious realm to dust," Deming declared with a cold smirk as he ascended into the air. Fierce black flames erupted from his back, forming broad wings that crackled and burned. A swirling cloud of black smoke surrounded him as he departed, leaving behind a bone-chilling nightmare for the witnesses.
Muchen and his soldiers stormed into the dungeon, their eyes sweeping over the dusty area with heavy hearts, taking in the remains of their loved ones reduced to ashes. Shock and grief gripped them, their jaws dropping as they struggled to comprehend the loss. Frustration and sorrow tightened their fists, some suppressing tears at the sight of their once-living comrades, now gone.
"L-Lord Muchen," the general barely clung to life, his voice a weak whisper.
Muchen, paralyzed with fear, snapped back to reality, turning his attention to the fortunate survivors. His eyes fell on the injured man lying on the ground who had spoken his name and recognized him. "Yize..."
"I... I failed in my duty." Yize's eyes narrowed in pain. Two of Muchen's soldiers knelt beside him, reaching out their arms to help him as he tried to get back on his feet.
Yet, before he could gather himself, Muchen's gaze froze him in place like ice on a winter's day. He bowed his head in shame, bearing the silent disappointment of his lord.
In the middle of the wrecked dungeon, Muchen clenched his fists, his eyes bulging with rage. His voice, dripping with evil authority and hatred, commanded, "Seize him!"
Muchen had long acknowledged Feng Deming as the greatest threat to their realm, a truth carefully guarded among a select few since ancient times.
Millions of years ago, a prophecy foretold the fairies' eventual downfall. An indestructible soul would split into two halves: one possessing the power of insight and compassion, and the other, overwhelming strength and immortality. These two souls would inhabit an Astaran man and woman, and together, they would rule all realms, destroying the high fairy lords and their entire foundation, ending the era of the fairies.
After many generations, rumors of Feng Deming's unmatched strength and combat skills swiftly spread throughout the Fairy Realm, leading Muchen to identify him as the other prophesied soul destined to bring about their downfall.
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Deming soared across the sky, his black robes billowing in the wind. A gentle breeze caressed his face, tousling his straight, silky hair. This moment, he had long imagined—reuniting with the sunlight's warmth and the wind on his skin. It had been an eternity since he last tasted such freedom, and the distant horizon beckoned him back to Astara, his home.
His mind overflowed with memories of his entire childhood. After enduring countless sleepless nights, constant anxiety, and the echoes of screams, he grasped the extent of the fairies' fear and how they viewed him as an abomination.
But his peaceful journey shattered by a disturbance. His cold, aloof eyes snapped to attention as an energy beam approached from behind. With flawless precision, he dodged the attack, tilting his shoulder and spinning to face his opponents.
A group of fairy soldiers hovered in the air, their auras shimmering in the sunlight. They moved in sync, tracing complex patterns with their hands, starting with a circular motion and ending with both palms pressed together, unleashing another powerful beam aimed at the prince.
Deming smirked. "They're courting their demise." With a malevolent glint in his eyes, he calmly closed them as the beam hurtled toward him.
In an instant, his piercing gaze snapped open, the blazing fire within emanating from his eyes. He raised his arms and manipulated the beam's energy, redirecting it back toward the soldiers.
Now under Deming's control, the beams encircled the soldiers, intensifying until they met their end. Their own attack backfired, exploding in blinding light and deafening noise. Arms crossed, a fleeting satisfaction softened his aloof demeanor as he took in the explosion.
"You tried," he mused, giving a short, dismissive wave before resuming his flight. A faint spark of amusement flickered in his eyes as he considered his personal plans for Lord Muchen. Leaving the Fairy Realm behind, his form blended with the clear blue sky, thoughts of revenge consuming his mind on his journey back to his realm.
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After a few hours, Deming arrived in Astara, a realm where mountains reached the sky, surrounding the land like a protective cloak. At the heart of Astara stood a city far more advanced than any other, where history, culture, art, and academia thrived. The grand palace served as the city's crown jewel, its stone walls adorned with stunning carvings portraying the culture and artistry of the Astaran people.
Approaching the palace gates, childhood memories flooded his mind, urging him swiftly toward the grand throne room, where his sworn enemy awaited.
The massive doors swung open, and Deming stepped inside, his presence dominating the hall. The Astaran Supreme and the council gaped in disbelief as the boy they once knew had matured into a tall teenager.
Murmurs filled the chamber. One council member whispered to another, "Isn't that Prince Feng Deming? Wasn't he declared dead?"
Deming's deadly gaze locked onto the king's, thirsting for revenge. "Former lieutenant and servant of my father... how dare you sit on my throne!" he taunted in a fierce, deep voice, burning with rage in his glare. "You parasite... You sold me to the fairies as a slave. You disgust me."
Gasps and cries of outrage echoed throughout the throne room. The once-mighty King of Kings shifted with nervousness, his eyes darting around the room in shame and fear. His composure crumbled as he struggled to comprehend how Deming's escape had occurred.
"What? Did you truly believe I would remain imprisoned forever?" Deming summoned forth a raven-black sword with a sinister aura.
The king attempted to regain control. "These accusations are nonsense! If anyone is breaking the law, it is you, entering my palace uninvited... GUARDS!"
"I made you a promise that day, and as you are aware, I always honor my promises." Deming's gaze bore into the former lieutenant, causing bystanders to recoil in horror. "Your reign ends today, and I will ensure not a single statue is made in your likeness, nor will any Astaran speak your name again until you are forgotten..." he paused, holding his own hand before him with indifference. "Also, why would I need permission to enter my palace?"
The king's heart sank as he grasped the direness of his situation. With trembling hands, he drew his sword in a desperate attempt to defend himself. Yet, before he could raise his blade, Deming moved with lightning speed, striking before the king could lift his sword. With a swift blow, the prince shattered the king's defenses, leaving him gasping as his life force ebbed away.
Deming stood over the fallen ruler, his breath heavy with anger. The council members dropped to their knees, recognizing his power. They had no choice but to submit. His reign had begun, and there would be no mercy for those who opposed him. The prince became a tyrant—the King of Kings and the Astaran Supreme Leader, also known as the Supreme Lord.
Matian Meilin:
Matian Meilin got off the bus, clutching her suitcase. As the bus drove away, she left her past behind and began her journey into the world of Esports. Her silky, dark-brown hair flowed down to her lower back, swaying with each excited step she took. Her long eyelashes delicately framed her big, almond-shaped eyes, and she wore black winged eyeliner, adding to her striking beauty.
"I can't believe it, Yuming! I'm finally here!" Meilin's eyes widened in excitement as she spoke with her best friend, Yuming, through her lilac-colored headphones that she carried everywhere. 'I prayed to God for so many nights for this,' she thought as she made her way to her destination.
Yuming was an eighteen-year-old girl, the same age as Meilin, and the first friend she had ever made. They had spent most of their childhood together before Yuming's parents decided to move away when her father received a job offer in another town. Despite the distance, they tried to stay in contact, occasionally calling each other but unable to meet in person.
"I'm so happy for you! I'm going to miss you, bestie. I know you won't have as much time to chat with me as before, but remember, you're not alone in this. If anything happens, just give me a call, okay?" Yuming's tone carried warmth.
"Thank you so much! You know I'm going to miss you too. I wish you could see all of this!" Meilin observed the tall buildings piercing through the clouds in awe as she followed the smell of brewing coffee from nearby coffee shops. She occasionally stopped to admire the mouthwatering street food she longed to try. "You know, Yuming, it's a bit overwhelming to be alone in such a big city, but I'm so lucky to be here. This is my dream job, and just imagining being on that stage is so exciting!"
"I wish I could be there too," Yuming hesitated and sighed, her concern breaking through. "I know I said this before, but can you handle being in a field that's mostly men? And living with them too!"
Meilin tried her hardest to hide her worries. "Living in a dorm with guys won't be much different than living with the kids back at the orphanage. It's just that there will only be guys. I'll handle it, don't worry."
Yuming remained silent.
As Meilin made her way through the busy city streets, the sounds of people walking by and the distant traffic hummed around her. Despite the city's noise, Yuming's silence spoke louder, causing panic to stir within her. She was determined not to change her mind after committing to the path she had taken. "Plus, I won't have to sneak out to the internet cafe anymore. I'll have my own computer, my own room, everything, and maybe one day I'll have my own home."
"I'm happy to hear you so positive," Yuming tried to conceal her worry.
"I know that you care about me, and I appreciate it. I really do. But I have to do this... Besides, you have to work hard at any job; I'll just have to work a bit harder than others."
Yuming sighed, her mind dwelling on Meilin's past. The Meilin she remembers preferred comfort over hard work and always had her head in the clouds. However, she had always known her potential and constantly worried about her future. Despite Meilin's change of heart, Yuming still had a lingering concern that she might fall back into her old habits of slacking off.
Yuming truly wished she could convey her concerns without upsetting Meilin. The worry weighed on her, adding an underlying tension to her supportive words. "I don't want to burst your bubble, but... Before you go, can I ask you one last thing?"
'Oh no... Please don't,' Meilin thought as her nerves crawled under her skin. "Sure..."
"Is this sustainable? What if things don't work out? I mean, where will you work if this fails?"
Meilin stopped in her tracks as insecurities surfaced, her face showing a mix of sadness and determination. "I have to make this work, Yuming. I can't go back to that life... I have literally nothing to go back to. There's no Plan B... Please understand... I have to do something."
Understanding Meilin's struggle for acknowledgment, Yuming sighed. "Maybe I worry too much over nothing. I should trust you more."
"Please do," Meilin urged, desperate for understanding.
"Then make sure you do it right!"
"I'll make you proud." Yet, despite her vow, Meilin felt all sorts of emotions as she finally arrived at her destination—the Ignis headquarters, a widely famous Esports company known for its remarkable players.
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Meilin entered the company building wearing a pastel blue hoodie, battling the cold that stung her cheeks. 'I hate winter. Luckily, it'll end soon,' she thought, yearning for summer.
The bright lights in the entrance hall shone overhead as she took off her headphones and walked to the information desk, tension in her steps. Finding it empty, she turned to the two guys sitting in the lobby and greeted them with a smile. They curiously observed her, startled by her sudden approach.
"Hello, can I ask you a question?"
The shorter guy nervously replied, "Yeah?" while the taller guy thought, 'Wow... she's hot.' They could not help but stare at her, finding her gorgeous and assuming she was their fan.
"I'm looking for the team Solaris. What floor are they on? If it's possible, could you tell me..."
The mere mention of another team pulled them out of their fantasy. "Hey, are you a fan of theirs or something? You do realize you can't just barge in like this," the taller guy interrupted, upset and disappointed, as his assumption about her intentions had shattered.
"Oh no, it's a misunderstanding. I'm here to join the team! It's my first time here, so I'm a bit lost..."
The tall guy raised an eyebrow. "Solaris, huh? THE Solaris?"
The short guy sneered. "I can't believe this company is trying to hire women now."
Meilin put on a fake smile. "I'm sure there will be plenty of us soon."
The taller one chuckled in a condescending way, his arrogance and jealousy making her uneasy. "I guess this will be the last time we hear of them."
She refused to let their prejudice get to her. 'Calm down, Meilin. You knew this would happen at some point. Stay calm.'
The short guy scoffed. "Esports isn't for girls. You should be at home doing something more suitable for your kind."
Meilin clenched her jaw and fists, taking a deep breath to steady herself against the unfair remarks. The Esports world had been a battleground for acceptance, and she had dealt with plenty of doubters. Yet, she stood firm and calmly but assertively shot back, "I don't remember you competing in last championship to be talking like this."
Taken aback by her answer, the tall guy stepped forward, looking down at her with a superior attitude. "Watch what you're saying, rookie."
Meilin knew that if she turned the other cheek, it not only did not align with her beliefs, but she would also never earn any respect in this field. So, she held her head high and firmly declared, "You should take your own advice!" Her foxy eyes sparked with mischief as she gave them an intimidating smirk, her voice low and threatening, "You know what? I wonder how the company would feel about its players discriminating against girls. I mean, it would be a shame for someone to go and speak to them about this."
The two guys looked at each other and stepped back. Their cocky attitudes instantly vanished as they realized their careers could end right then and there.
"Alright, princesses, less talking, more practicing," another man with a deep voice made sure to be heard.
"Ningshun!" their voices conveyed shock and worry.
Meilin spun around, her breath catching in her throat as she met the man's gaze. 'Wow, he looks gorgeous.' Her cheeks heated up as Ningshun stood before her, a figure very familiar to her and even more captivating in person than on camera.
The pleasant scent of his musky cologne added to the twenty-year-old man's allure. His luscious lips complemented his jet-black hair, slicked back to medium length, giving off a charming and seductive aura. His pale green eyes hinted at kindness, and his tall stature added to his confident presence.
"I see you've met Meilin."
The two guys looked at Ningshun in surprise, nodded in agreement, and nervously laughed, hoping he had not overheard them. "Is she really joining Solaris? But she's... a girl—"
"Yes, and?" Ningshun retorted without any hesitation. "Besides, I was the one who chose her for the team. She's my concern, not yours. You have a problem with that?"
After hearing Ningshun's answer, they exchanged doubtful glances, realizing they needed to leave quickly before the situation got out of hand.
'He was the one who chose me? I'm on the same team as this breathtaking man, and HE was the one who picked me?' she wondered, her dark-brown eyes unwilling to look away, praying, 'Thank you, God, thank you!' She did not try to hide her awe of Ningshun; every word he uttered was like honey to her ears.
Ningshun, Solaris' Mid Laner, was a well-known Esports figure and his team's best player. With his sharp accuracy and confident yet calm demeanor in matches, he had earned the respect of many of his fellow opponents.
As Ningshun waved goodbye to the two young men, he could not help but pause. "By the way..." With a naughty grin, he quipped, "The 'I didn't see you compete in this championship' comment was a bit harsh, Meilin."
"You heard that? I'm really sorry," she lowered her head in shame, worried that she might have ruined her only chance at something better in her life.
"You did well. I'm glad you stood up for yourself," he gave her a gentle smile. "But 'telling the company'? That was terrifying. That was really something," he burst out laughing.
"Stop teasing me!" she quickly picked up on his humor, fighting back with the same spirit she had tried to suppress.
Ningshun chuckled at her comeback, amused by her feisty demeanor. "Now that we've sorted that out, are you finally ready to meet the rest of the team?" he beckoned toward their team's office.
Meilin sighed in relief as his playfulness quickly broke the tension of the incident. "I'm ready. Lead the way."
As they walked to the office, she remained quiet, as if something deeply troubled her. Her soft smile seemed to conceal her anxiety as she reflected on the words she had used during the argument with the two players. Despite being sure that she had done the right thing, she still felt uneasy.
At one point, she could no longer remain silent and asked, "Ningshun, were the words I said really that bad?"
Ningshun stopped in his tracks and took a step back. "Yes, they were, but don't worry," he slowly looked into her eyes with a sleazy smile. "I like bad girls."
Meilin's cheeks flushed deep crimson. To her, he did not have to try much to comfort her, as his every word put her at ease. She giggled. He could erase any worry in her heart with a single joke, even for a moment.
Deciding to play along, she playfully leaned into his ear, whispering, "I'm very bad..."
His attention turned to her fully, and he raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her words.
"At everything..." she continued, grinning wide.
'Oh...' Ningshun thought as his laughter grew louder with each passing second. He realized he would never get bored with her on the team and admired her boldness, grinning at everything she said.
When they reached the office door, she could not help but notice his muscular physique, with his well-built arms and a perfect shoulder-to-hip ratio.
Ningshun noticed where her eyes had been a moment before, and his curiosity piqued as he gave her a daring smirk. "Were you checking out my butt?"
"Yes, and?" Meilin retorted, a mischievous look in her eyes.
Struck by her audacity, he realized he had underestimated her. "You have no shame, do you?" Yet, he felt impressed and pleased by her answer. "You learn fast."
Meilin cracked another smile as she walked into the office. There, she noticed the team's amused facial expressions, hinting that they had overheard their playful banter.
Ningshun followed her into the room. Noticing his teammates' smirks, he cleared his throat and boomed, "Everyone, brace yourselves! We've got a new Jungler in town—Meilin!"
Focusing on their game, Kaili, the Support, gave a friendly nod; Hooman, the ADC, offered a wave; and Han, the Top Laner, met her with a warm smile.
"Hi, guys!" She emanated a cheerful vibe as she observed their screens in awe.
Ningshun gestured toward the chairs, trying not to disturb the match. "Take a seat, Meilin. Let's have a chat before the coach comes." Excited, he pulled the white gaming chair away from the desk, gesturing for her to sit down.
Meilin responded with a brief, "Sure," as she sat down, still looking at their screens.
"Are you comfortable? After all, this is your chair."
"My chair?" she whispered, excitement taking over her body. "Thank you. I'm more than comfortable. I think I could even sleep here," she joked and reclined the chair, lying in it like on a bed. Her eyes followed the RGB lights stretching across the entire ceiling, causing her to get lost in thought.
"Thirsty?" Ningshun's warm breath brushed against her cheek, a gentle whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. His deep, husky voice drew her in like a moth to a flame as he leaned over her head, his proximity catching her off guard and eliciting a flutter in her chest.
Meilin grew tense, stuttering, "Yes... please."
"Good, because we've got all the best drinks in the galaxy—tea, coffee, soda, water..."
"Soda's perfect, thanks," she managed with a faint smile.
As Ningshun straightened and moved away, an unexpected flush of warmth spread through Meilin. Summoning her courage, she called out after him, "Hey, Ningshun."
Turning back, he raised his eyebrows in curiosity and a hint of intrigue. "Yes?"
Meilin, her cheeks a delicate blush, spoke with sincerity, "Thanks for standing up for me back there."
Ningshun's minty eyes softened, and a subtle smile appeared on his lips as he briefly looked away to reflect on her words. When his gaze met hers again, his eyes showed a gentle warmth. "No problem, Meilin," he tenderly reassured her before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen.
After the team's match, everyone focused on the newcomer. Kaili, who liked to talk the most, shared funny stories about their previous matches to help her feel comfortable. Hooman, who had a stubbled face and a laid-back vibe, joined in with his own over-the-top stories, and Han, the quiet one, added a silent but expressive touch to the conversation.
Ningshun returned with the soda, grinning as he handed it over like a royal gift. "Here you go, milady."
Meilin blinked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the new nickname he had just given her. No one had ever called her that before.
"Milady? Isn't that a bit outdated, Ningshun?" Hooman teased.
Laughter echoed off the walls, filling the gaming room with warmth as they bonded while chatting about strategies, their favorite champions, and shared gaming experiences.
The room hummed with the sound of high-end computers and the excited chatter of team members until they all left, leaving only Ningshun there alone with Meilin, waiting for the coach. The place resembled a tech lover's dream, with rows of colorful LED lights, oversized monitors, and walls plastered with posters of famous Esports tournaments.
Meilin felt very nervous, but she kept her chin up. Today represented her only chance to prove herself for a better future, and she could not afford to let her fear get in the way.
The coach, a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard and a buttoned-up shirt, walked up to her with a smile that did not seem very genuine. He reached out to shake her hand. "Meilin, welcome. Glad you could make it. We've heard great things about you."
She shook his hand firmly, keeping her voice calm. "Thank you for having me."
"So, tell me, what makes you think you're a good fit for our team?" the coach asked, his tone polite but with a hint of skepticism that she caught onto.
She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "I can... see through what my opponents will do next." The truth was, she could not explain her skills and strategies easily—it felt more like an intuition, a gut feeling that helped her make the right moves.
The coach raised an eyebrow. "Seeing through, huh? That's quite the claim. We'll see if it holds up under pressure."
'I think he just wants to know if I cheat or hack. Why else would he test me if he can see all my matches online?' she pondered, smiling nervously at the coach.
"We have high standards, and we don't take risks with new players unless they really impress us," the coach stated.
Meilin anxiously nodded, taking it all in. She had heard of gaming teams with questionable reputations, but this one was known for being a place with integrity. 'I can't mess this up. This is my one shot to make it. I can't go back to my old life... if I can even call it life.'
The coach glanced at the team leader, who stood with his arms crossed. "Ningshun speaks highly of you, so I hope you're as good as he says."
Ningshun gave her a slight nod and a faint smile. He leaned closer, resting his arms on the desk, and whispered, "I know he looks scary, but trust me, he'll love your game. Just play like you always do." As the company's best player, his support meant a lot to her, and it calmed her nerves.
Inhaling and exhaling a deep breath, she met the coach's gaze. "I'm ready for whatever test you have. Let's do this."
The coach nodded and pointed to her white gaming chair, where she would start the test. As they walked over to the computers, she felt her heart pounding. This was her moment, and she refused to let it slip away.
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Demon King's Love - Copyright © 2023 by Aurora Luxi. All Rights Reserved.
"The Moon Supreme, Dongfang Qingcang" is in the public domain. All original additions are copyright © 2022 by Aurora Luxi.