Gradus XXXIII

The familiar "World vs. World" notification pulsed across Fiona's view, a beacon of excitement quickly extinguished by a brutal red message: "Level Requirement Not Met. Minimum Level 100 to Participate." Disbelief morphed into frustration. Level 100? she thought. There's no way I can join with my meager level 10.

Godslayer, still immersed in his workshop, noticed her dismay. A wry smile played on his lips. "As eager as you are to join such an event, you need to exercise patience and build your character up first."

Tenza gripped Chia's tsuka, the katana, a recent gift from Godslayer. The weapon felt heavier now, a tangible symbol of her limitations. This wasn't just a weapon; it was a promise she couldn't fulfill just yet.

"Don't worry," Godslayer continued, his voice laced with amusement. "Gear plays a bigger role than just damage points in these high-tier events." He swiped a holographic screen, revealing a complex schematic reminiscent of a meme where a friend asks how to play a game and is shown a daunting spreadsheet.

"Standard and Advanced gear are for rookies," Godslayer explained, pointing to the basic categories. "You can probably find these lying around after a good monster beatdown."

He scrolled further, revealing categories labeled "Customized" and "Mythical." "These," Godslayer said, tapping the screen, "are where things get interesting. Customized gear is crafted by players, legendary blacksmiths hidden in the game's underbelly." Tenza looked at her new katana. "Then are you...?" Godslayer chuckled. "Me? Nah, I'm just a totally normal player." His humility masked a hidden smirk. He continued, "Mythical gear? Those are rewards for epic quests, specific to the race that gives the quests to get it."

Finally, Godslayer's finger landed on a darkened section shrouded in mist. "And then there's the stuff you won't find in any guide or Wetube video," he said with a wink. "Secret gear. Whispers of angelic artifacts and demonic blades that surpass anything else in the game."

Tenza stared at the hologram, a wave of understanding washing over her. Godslayer's gift wasn't a sure ticket to the World vs. World event. It was the foundation for her aspirations, a weapon worthy of the challenges to come. Graded mythical by the game, she realized he didn't give her this weapon to go blindly into the event but to build herself up to the challenge. A secret custom among MMO players, giving away gear to new players so they can enjoy the game.

She slightly unsheathed Chia, the weight of the katana mirroring the weight of her own limitations, reflecting her gaze in its metal. Watching the qualifiers wasn't what she envisioned, but for now, it would have to do.

A sudden tremor shook the virtual world. An ear-splitting crack echoed through the server as a familiar landscape shimmered and warped. North American and European players materialized in a shower of digital sparks, their high-level avatars gleaming with mythical gear Fiona had never seen outside Godslayer's little tutorial.

Panic erupted in the chat channels. Latin American players, many of them far above the required level, were caught completely off guard. The once-vibrant battlegrounds of the World vs. World instance transformed into a warzone. Advanced spells ripped through the air, leaving trails of scorched earth and fallen players. The invaders moved with practiced precision, their laughter echoing through the ravaged landscape. The invading players weren't interested in goals or objectives, just the systematic humiliation of Latin American players.

A guttural roar from a colossal European barbarian guardian sent shivers down Tenza's spine, even from the safety of Godslayer's haven. He wielded a weapon that crackled with unholy energy, a weapon that screamed "secret gear." This wasn't just a competition anymore; it was a brutal display of dominance, a chilling reminder of the gap between the established servers and the Latin American upstarts.

Fury welled within Fiona. These weren't just competitors; they were bullies, reveling in the humiliation. Firelez, the Latin American challenger from last year, flashed across her mind. They were here to crush not just dreams, but the spirit of an entire server.

As the Latin American players tried to rally, defiance and resignation simmered in the chat channels. Tenza wanted to voice her frustration in the chat as well, but looking at Godslayer, she realized he was preoccupied and eager to participate too. She asked, "Why don't you compete as well?"

With a nostalgic tone, he replied, "My time for these events has passed. I'm no longer a citizen of your world, Tenza. I'm not in my time anymore." He looked away from Tenza, immersing himself in his work over a tinkering table.

Tenza watched him for a moment, her heart heavy with a mix of frustration and determination. The battle raging outside was a stark reminder of the challenges ahead, but also a beacon, guiding her towards the strength she needed to cultivate. This was her journey, and she would rise to meet it, one step at a time.

Tenza, forced to watch from the sidelines, witnessed the invaders descend upon the World vs. World map like a swarm of ravenous locusts. Their high-level avatars, clad in gleaming armor that shimmered with an unnatural light, moved with ruthless precision.

They converged on a series of colossal obsidian gates, the entry points to the new fabled dungeons rumored to hold legendary gear. As Fiona zoomed in, she noticed strange symbols etched onto the invaders' armor, pulsing with a soft, rhythmic glow, akin to blood coursing through veins. These were tech-armors, marvels of engineering coveted even by pro players. The armors reminded her of Star Warrior, her grandma's beloved anime from the 20th century. However, unlike the transformations in the show, these armors materialized seamlessly over the players, a testament to technological advancement.

A wave of Latin American players, emboldened by a surge of defiance, attempted to charge towards the gates. However, the invaders were ready. With a wave of their hands, the symbols on their armor flared, and a crackling blue barrier materialized around the entrances, effectively sealing them shut. Only one player donning this tech-armor was enough to hold a hundred players in check. The armor augmented their abilities exponentially.

A frustrated roar echoed through the chat channels as Latin American players realized their predicament. They were trapped outside the dungeons, denied the chance to compete for legendary gear and a slot in the World Championship, the new rules banning the wildcard figure a heavy toll on them. The invaders, on the other hand, moved with practiced efficiency, weaving through hidden passages and activating glyphs etched into the obsidian walls. They exercised the ability to fly without the need for mana or magic, completely dominating the battlegrounds.

Tenza watched in disbelief as the invaders glided through the dungeons, their tech-armors seemingly granting them access to hidden pathways and bypassing challenges meant to test even the most skilled players. This wasn't fair competition; it was a calculated exploitation of advanced technology, devoid of any responsibility, driven solely by the sheer amusement of humiliating the Latin American players.

"This is wrong!" Godslayer materialized beside Tenza, his calm demeanor replaced by simmering rage. "These tech-armors were supposed to be rare rewards from completing all the dungeons in the event, not a monopoly for NA and EU pros! The developers spent months balancing the difficulty, and this just throws everything into chaos!"

The colossal European barbarian, clad in intricate tech-armor, emerged from a dungeon exit. He slammed his fist against a nearby pillar, causing cracks to spiderweb across the obsidian surface. With a guttural laugh, he turned towards the frustrated Latin American players, his eyes radiating nothing but contempt.

As the barbarian's mocking laughter echoed, Tenza took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. This wasn't just a game anymore; it was a battle for respect, for fairness, and for the spirit of competition. And she would not stand idly by while others trampled over it.

The initial defiance of the Latin American players fizzled into a suffocating silence. Dejected faces filled the chat channels, punctuated by frustrated sighs and angry outbursts. Some players, unable to stomach the humiliation, rage-quit, their avatars dissolving into pixels of light. Others logged off, retreating to the familiar comfort of their virtual worlds outside the World vs. World event.

Fiona watched, a knot of despair tightening in her stomach. The invaders, like ravenous locusts, had devoured any hope of fair competition. Every attempt to breach the blue barriers surrounding the dungeons met with swift and brutal retaliation. It was a masterclass in domination, leaving the Latin American players feeling powerless and insignificant.

Godslayer, observing the chaos, turned to Tenza. "You want to participate, right? Then let's go meet someone," he said with a knowing smile.

"Who is it? Where do we go?" Tenza asked, eager for answers.

Godslayer's response arrived seconds later, a cryptic set of coordinates leading to an unmarked location deep within a forest close to the city of the Nifay, still enveloped in the fog of war, waiting for Tenza to explore it. Her determination rekindled, she navigated through dense foliage, arriving at a quaint, unassuming house nestled amidst towering trees.

As she cautiously approached the door, snippets of conversation filtered through the window. Four voices, belonging to different races in the game – Askafroa, Nifay, and Uman – debated in hushed tones. All four were adorned in gleaming mythical gear, their avatars radiating an aura of power.

Tenza's heart hammered against her ribs. Godslayer's acquaintances? Their hushed tones and serious expressions exuded a sense of unease.

Taking a deep breath, Tenza pushed open the door. Inside, the four mythical warriors turned to greet her, their faces etched with concern. Godslayer walked behind her, approaching the avatar seated in front with his back to the door.

And then, Tenza saw him.

Sitting in a worn armchair was a man whose avatar she instantly recognized. His armor, familiar and worn, swiveled around to reveal a face etched with experience and a hint of amusement.

Firelez, the legendary Latin American champion, smiled warmly at Tenza. A smile that sent a wave of nervous excitement coursing through her.

However, Tenza's gaze drifted involuntarily towards Firelez's left hand. It gripped a gauntlet, a gauntlet she recognized all too well – the Gauntlet of the Stars of Destiny.

And the gauntlet, its compass pulsating with an otherworldly light, pointed directly at her, just like Ho-Jin's and Sagar's gauntlets. Tenza watched, her gaze flickering between the defeated faces in the chat channels and the unwavering Firelez. Shame washed over her. This wasn't the spirit she remembered from her historical tales, the ones filled with stories of her ancestors from the 20th century. Those generations thrived on adversity, their determination fueled by seemingly insurmountable challenges.

Firelez, a product of that era, his avatar radiating an aura of resilience forged in a time of struggle, stood in stark contrast to her generation's quick surrender. Disappointment gnawed at her. Had her generation, raised on comfort and instant gratification, forgotten the grit of their forefathers? Had they traded the fire of challenge for the ease of surrender?

A bitter taste filled her mouth. Yet, a flicker of defiance sparked within her. Shame wasn't enough. She wouldn't let the legacy of her ancestors crumble at the feet of invaders.

Tenza's hand instinctively reached for Chia, the katana gifted by Sky. The weapon, cold and inert moments ago, felt strangely warm now, almost pulsing with dormant energy. A symbol, not just of combat, but of the fight her generation had to wage, not just against the invaders, but against their own apathy.

Gripping the hilt, she didn't raise it in a fighting stance. Instead, she held it close, a tangible reminder of her heritage, a tool not just for battle, but for forging a future where her generation wouldn't be remembered as the ones who surrendered, but as the ones who rose to the challenge.

She looked back at Firelez, her eyes blazing with renewed determination. "We won't be remembered for our defeat," he declared. "We'll be remembered for our resilience. For rising when others expected us to fall."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Godslayer's smile graced his face, his eyes twinkling with approval. "Welcome Tenza, Mr. Sky said you wanted to challenge the world championship" he said, his voice a steady beacon of encouragement.

Tenza's heart swelled with pride. This wasn't the end – it was the beginning of what started as an adventure. And she would join the fight, not just for herself, but for the legacy of her ancestors, the Guecha warriors who also raised against invaders and the future of her generation.

The weight of Firelez's words settled in the room, a heavy counterpoint to the crackling fire in the hearth. Tenza, her hand still wrapped around Chia's hilt, felt a surge of conflicting emotions – determination mingled with a gnawing sense of inadequacy.

Godslayer gestured with an open palm towards the table. "Let's get you settled in, Tenza," he said, his voice a steady anchor amidst the storm of her emotions. "We have much to discuss."

He led her towards a group gathered around a worn wooden table. As they approached, the four figures rose, their eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and cautious respect.

"Tenza," Godslayer began, gesturing towards each member of the group. "This is Grell, our resident Askafroa strategist. Here you have Nabi, the Nifay's swift shadow. And these two are our Uman powerhouses, Acnel and Gisa."

A brief silence followed as Tenza met their gazes. Grell, an Askafroa with skin the color of sun-baked earth and eyes that glinted with sharp intellect, offered a curt nod. Nabi, a Nifay cloaked in an aura of quiet efficiency, gave a ghost of a smile, the movement barely perceptible beneath her dark hood. Acnel, a Uman warrior with fiery braids and a fierce glint in her eyes, offered a genuine grin and a friendly wave. Gisa, his Uman form imposing and stoic, inclined his head in a silent greeting.

Firelez, rising from his armchair, addressed Tenza directly. "I understand you want to participate in the World Championship, Tenza. However, with the invaders monopolizing the dungeons, conventional leveling is nearly impossible. That's why we're here."

He gestured towards a detailed map of Eschenfrau displayed on the wall. "We have a plan to disrupt the invaders' hold on the low-level dungeons. Instead, we're going to target the high-level ones. But first, you need the skills and experience to contribute effectively, otherwise, we will just waste time."

Tenza felt a flicker of hope extinguish as quickly as it ignited. More training? How could she possibly learn the complexities of MMO mechanics in time to make a difference? Shame threatened to engulf her again, but she forced it down as Sensei Leonardo taught her. Now wasn't the time for self-pity.

Sensing her struggle, Godslayer spoke. "Don't worry, Tenza. We've all been beginners once. We'll teach you everything you need to know, from combat basics to group coordination. Kyokushin forged your spirit, and here you will put it to the test."

Grell stepped forward, his voice calm and measured. "Our strategy involves more than just brute force. We need to outthink the invaders, exploit their weaknesses, and use our knowledge of Eschenfrau to our advantage. We'll start by honing your skills in smaller skirmishes before tackling the larger objectives."

Nabi added, her voice soft but firm, "Speed and precision are crucial. We'll train you to move like a shadow, strike swiftly, and disappear before the enemy can react. With practice, you'll learn to navigate the terrain with ease."

Acnel chimed in with a fierce grin. "And we'll make sure you can hold your own in a fight. We'll train you in advanced combat techniques and group tactics. You'll be able to stand toe-to-toe with the best of them."

Gisa, his voice deep and resonant, concluded, "This isn't just about winning a game. It's about reclaiming our dignity and proving our worth. We'll fight together, and we'll succeed together."

A spark of defiance ignited within Tenza. She wouldn't let her lack of experience hold her back. With a determined nod, she met Firelez's gaze. "Then let's begin."

The room filled with a renewed sense of purpose. Tenza felt the weight of the challenge ahead, but also the strength of the allies by her side. They weren't just training for a game; they were preparing to reclaim their honor and show the world what they were capable of. And she was ready to rise to the occasion.

The room buzzed with activity as the group began preparing for their grinding quest. Firelez excused himself, his gaze lingering on Tenza for a moment before stepping outside.

Tenza, her curiosity piqued, followed a short while later. She found Firelez leaning against a tree, his expression unreadable. A cough escaped him, a dry, hacking sound he quickly attempted to stifle. He winced slightly as their eyes met, the pain momentarily flickering across his face before he schooled his expression.

"Mr. Firelez," she said hesitantly.

He turned, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "Tenza. Something on your mind?"

With a deep breath, she blurted out, "The Gauntlet of the Stars of Destiny... why is it pointing at me?"

Firelez frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. "Honestly, Tenza, I don't know. Godslayer, Mr. Sky, chose me as a Star of Destiny, like Ho-Jin and Sagar. But I haven't seen the gauntlet react this way before."

He sighed. "Perhaps it has something to do with your potential, your spirit. Or maybe it's something else entirely. We need more information about these gauntlets."

Tenza, feeling a knot of unease tighten in her stomach, decided to change the subject. "This place... it's very hidden. Why the secrecy?"

A grim smile played on Firelez's lips. "The invaders are ruthless. They wouldn't hesitate to despawn anyone who poses a threat. We have to be careful."

He reached into a pouch on his belt and retrieved a glowing emerald crystal. "Speaking of threats, we've been researching these tech-crystals the invaders use. They are powerful sources of energy, but also incredibly unstable."

Tenza's eyes widened. The crystal pulsed with an otherworldly light, eerily similar to the crystals powering the Star Warriors in the anime she loved.

"These crystals," Firelez continued, his voice low and urgent, "are what give the invaders their edge. They amplify abilities, enhance armor, and even allow for flight without the need for mana. But there's a catch. They're volatile. If one of these crystals were to become unstable, the consequences could be catastrophic."

He showed the crystal to Tenza, its warmth seeping into her skin. "We need to understand these crystals, learn how to counteract and harness their power. This is our key to leveling the playing field."

Tenza stared at the crystal, its emerald glow casting a faint light on her determined face. "So, how do we do that?"

Firelez's gaze hardened with resolve. "We need to study them, find their weaknesses. It won't be easy, but with this knowledge, we can turn the tide against the invaders."

A sense of urgency gripped Tenza. This wasn't just about leveling up or winning a championship anymore; it was about reclaiming their world from an oppressive force, akin to the Guecha warriors of her ancestry, they too fought against an invading, oppressive force.

"Count me in," she said, her voice steady and resolute.

Firelez nodded, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "Good. We'll need all the help we can get."

As they returned to the group, Tenza felt a renewed sense of purpose. She wasn't just playing a game by herself; she was joining the fight for her server, and the legacy of those who came before her. The path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but with allies like Firelez and the others by her side, she felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.