The queue popped.
Daniel glanced at the team list as the loading screen faded in.
Top lane.Jungle.Mid.ADC.Support.
And then he saw the name.
StarguardClass: Priest
Daniel paused for half a second.
That ID again.
The same Priest from his Bronze promotion match—the one whose heals always arrived just a fraction earlier than expected. Not flashy. Not fast. But… timely.
Coincidence, he thought.
Silver was full of coincidences.
Voice chat connected.
A cheerful voice spoke first.
"Hi everyone! I'll support. Umm… please don't run out of my range!"
Someone laughed.
"Hey, Priest, just stick to the ADC."
"Got it! I'll try!"
Daniel's Holy Crusader stood at spawn, unmoving.
Starguard's avatar jogged in small circles nearby, clearly adjusting sensitivity, testing movement.
New player, Daniel noted.
But not careless.
The early game was tense.
Silver players were cautious, but not disciplined. They wanted to fight—but only when they felt safe.
Bottom lane traded heavily.
The enemy jungler hovered nearby, waiting.
Daniel saw it before the call came.
He rotated early.
Too early, by Silver standards.
Starguard hesitated, then followed.
The gank came exactly as expected.
Enemy jungle. Enemy mid. Three players collapsing.
The ADC panicked.
Daniel stepped forward.
Shield raised.
He intercepted the first burst cleanly, then shifted sideways, cutting off the escape path.
Damage poured in.
Too much.
Daniel's health dropped fast.
Then—
A heal landed.
Perfect timing.
Not late.Not early.
Just enough to keep him standing.
Daniel adjusted instantly.
He held position.
Another heal followed—predictive this time, landing before the second burst arrived.
The fight flipped.
The enemy carry fell.
First blood.
Voice chat erupted.
"Whoa—nice heal!""Priest, that was clutch!"
Starguard laughed nervously.
"I-I just guessed!"
Daniel said nothing.
But his eyes narrowed slightly.
The match grew chaotic.
Mid skirmishes. Jungle pressure. Silver-level overextensions everywhere.
Starguard struggled mechanically—missed a cleanse, mistimed a movement—but her positioning was always safe, always sensible.
More importantly—
She was watching.
Daniel noticed it during a mid-lane fight.
He stepped forward to block.
Before damage landed, a heal was already traveling.
She's reading intent, Daniel realized.
Not reacting.
Predicting.
That wasn't something tutorials taught.
Near mid-game, a teamfight broke out near the river.
Poor positioning. Bad angles. A mess.
Daniel took the front.
Enemy damage focused him instantly.
Too much.
For half a second, even Daniel thought he might fall.
Then Starguard committed.
Cooldowns burned. Mana spent recklessly.
Heal. Shield. Another heal.
Daniel stayed alive long enough.
That was all he needed.
The enemy collapsed.
Ace.
The voice chat went quiet for a beat.
Then—
"Okay, Priest is MVP.""That Crusader–Priest combo is disgusting."
Starguard sounded flustered.
"Ah—sorry! I just pressed everything…"
Daniel didn't respond.
But when the team regrouped, he subtly adjusted his positioning—just a little closer to her range.
The final push was clean.
Controlled.
Unsurprising.
When the crystal shattered, the screen flashed:
VICTORY
Silver points gained.
The lobby appeared.
Starguard hesitated.
Then a notification popped up.
Friend Request: Starguard
Daniel accepted without comment.
Almost immediately, another message followed.
"Um… are you really good at Crusader?""I've never seen someone play it like that."
Daniel replied with a single line.
"Positioning matters more than buttons."
A pause.
Then:
"Oh. That makes sense."
Daniel exited the lobby.
He didn't dwell on it.
Silver was full of players like her—rough mechanics, sharp instincts.
Most never realized it.
He queued again.
He didn't know it yet, but for Starguard—
That match wouldn't be so easily forgotten.