The draft room felt tighter this time.
Not because of nerves.
Because of intent.
Daniel noticed it immediately—the way the opposing coach leaned forward, eyes never leaving the screen, fingers tapping twice before every ban. This wasn't reaction anymore. This was design.
"They're not looking at us," WildZone muttered over comms. "They're looking at you."
Daniel didn't answer.
The first ban appeared.
Holy Crusader.
No surprise.
The second ban followed instantly.
Vindicator.
The crowd murmured.
Leo's voice sharpened. "That's interesting. Two direct bans at Nightwalker."
Mason added, "They're not even pretending otherwise."
Daniel exhaled slowly.
"Good," he said. "That means they're afraid of the wrong thing."
The enemy locked early.
Aggressive lanes. Heavy engage. A composition built to collapse on one point and tear it apart.
On paper, it was clean.
And the point was obvious.
Nightwalker.
"They're going to ignore side pressure," Ironwall said calmly. "Full commit on mid fights."
CrystalFeather's tone was steady, but sharp. "They want to make you irrelevant."
Daniel's cursor hovered for half a second.
Then he locked in Sanctifier.
A utility-heavy class. Low damage. High responsibility.
The chat exploded.
"WHAT?""Is that even viable?""He's giving up carry potential!"
Leo hesitated. "That's… bold."
Mason frowned. "Or desperate."
Daniel smiled faintly.
The match began exactly as predicted.
Mid lane pressure. Jungle shadowing. Early vision denial.
Every rotation pointed inward.
Every movement asked the same question.
Can the team function if he doesn't take over?
The first fight answered partially.
They lost it.
Two down.
The crowd reacted.
WildZone clenched his jaw. "They're all-in on you."
Daniel replied calmly, "Then let them stay there."
The second fight came faster.
Again, the enemy collapsed on Daniel.
Again, he didn't retreat.
But this time, he didn't fight back either.
He held.
Cooldowns burned.
Abilities layered.
Health bars dipped dangerously low.
And while the enemy committed everything—
CrystalFeather struck.
WildZone followed.
Blackstone teleported behind.
Ironwall sealed vision.
The fight flipped.
Three for two.
Epoch advantage.
The hall inhaled sharply.
Leo's voice rose. "They committed everything—and still lost the trade!"
Mason added, slower now, "Because Nightwalker didn't try to win it."
Mid-game stretched.
The enemy adjusted, but hesitation crept in.
They no longer knew when to commit.
Every engage felt risky.
Every delay felt punished.
Daniel wasn't carrying.
He was redistributing.
At twenty minutes, WildZone's damage chart spiked.
CrystalFeather's pressure suffocated lanes.
Blackstone became unmovable.
Ironwall's calls sharpened.
Daniel watched it all.
Quietly.
The final fight didn't center on him at all.
The enemy hesitated mid-rotation.
CrystalFeather saw it.
WildZone pounced.
Ironwall followed.
Blackstone arrived.
The fight ended before Daniel fully entered the screen.
The crystal shattered moments later.
VICTORY
Backstage, no one spoke for several seconds.
Then WildZone laughed softly. "They really thought you were the whole team."
Daniel removed his headset.
"They needed me to be," he said. "Otherwise their plan didn't work."
CrystalFeather looked at him. "You let them test us."
Daniel nodded. "And you passed."
In Dawn's office, the tailored man watched the replay in silence.
The Sanctifier build.
The ignored damage.
The redistributed pressure.
"So," he said at last, "he's teaching them."
His assistant hesitated. "That's… dangerous."
The man smiled thinly.
"Then we stop the lesson."
He turned away from the screen.
"City League has rules," he continued. "Schedules. Evaluations. Discretion."
A pause.
"And teams that don't fit narratives tend to have… complications."
Epoch left the stage under heavier stares than ever before.
They had answered the question.
Loudly.
But now, the weight was shifting.
From Daniel—
To everyone standing beside him.