Master Tier did not feel triumphant.
It felt exposed.
The first thing Daniel noticed wasn't the difficulty of the matches—it was the familiarity. Names repeated with unsettling frequency. Opponents remembered him. Teammates adjusted their play the moment his ID appeared.
No one asked what he played anymore.
They already knew.
World Chat changed tone almost overnight.
"He's in Master.""Holy Crusader, Nightwalker.""No losses from Bronze to Master.""That's not a climb. That's a résumé."
Someone else typed:
"So… whose account is that?"
The message lingered longer than the others.
Daniel closed the channel.
He had no interest in answering questions that came too late.
Master games moved at a different tempo.
Not faster—sharper.
Every rotation had purpose. Every fight began with calculation, not impulse. Mistakes still happened, but they were paid for immediately and without mercy.
Daniel stabilized quickly.
He didn't dominate games the way he had below.
He controlled them.
Wins came not from highlight moments, but from inevitability.
During one queue break, Daniel leaned back and glanced at the clock.
Midnight.
The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the PC.
This was the hour when ranked stopped being crowded and started being honest.
A message notification appeared.
Zhou:Still awake?
Daniel smiled faintly.
Nightwalker:Always.
Another message followed almost immediately.
Zhou:People are asking about you.Not just in-game.
Daniel read it carefully.
Nightwalker:Let them ask.
Zhou:That's not what I mean.City League registration opens in three weeks.
Daniel's fingers paused above the keyboard.
Nightwalker:I know.
A moment later:
Zhou:Then we should talk.Offline.
Daniel didn't queue again that night.
Instead, he opened a blank document.
Not a build guide.Not a strategy outline.
A list.
Roles.Strengths.Gaps.
He didn't write names yet.
Just requirements.
The next day, Master matches felt different.
Not because of difficulty—
But because Daniel wasn't climbing toward them anymore.
He was playing through them.
World Chat buzzed again after one particularly clean win.
"Master Crusader still undefeated.""That play wasn't ladder.""That was system-level."
Someone replied:
"Feels like he's practicing, not ranking."
Daniel closed the chat.
That was the closest anyone had come to the truth.
Late that evening, another message arrived.
CrystalFeather:I told my coach I'm leaving after the season.
Daniel exhaled slowly.
Nightwalker:And?
CrystalFeather:He wasn't surprised.Just disappointed.
Nightwalker:That means he knew.
A pause.
CrystalFeather:I don't know what comes next.But I don't want to keep playing safe.
Daniel typed one sentence.
Nightwalker:Then you're already doing the right thing.
Daniel saved the document.
The list was still short.
But it was no longer empty.
Master Tier remained above him.
The top of the ladder still waited.
But for the first time since he returned to Peak Era, Daniel felt something more solid than rank forming beneath his feet.
A foundation.