Daniel Nyman, Sergeant First Class in the Emperor's Guard, had one of the top teams in the capital. Every member had been carefully selected for their individual aptitude, and overall team synergy. They'd practiced several times against other teams in the Emperor's private training facility, and only lost to the very best.

They were designed melee-centric, with two players (including Daniel) built exclusively for close combat, and two more as hybrid melee/ranged and melee/support. They also had a rare support/control, and finally a generalist pure caster, with a focus on piercing enemy magical defences.

Their general strategy was extreme aggression. In the scouting stage, their caster often was able to find enemy scouts with his identification and dispelling powers. If so, their ranged hybrid and controller just as often caught the bastard long enough for the team to take him out before the main event.

Then it was six on five for the team brawl. Daniel and his men went in a ragged line, charging straight at the enemy with supportive shields and their own defences charged. They closed with the enemy, enough close-combat to send someone individually after nearly every opponent to keep them busy while their caster helped bring them down one by one, their support assist on any harder targets to swing the scale.

They'd only ever lost against teams who didn't scout them and were able to fight at full strength, or had enough speed to avoid close combat and also deal with their support and caster.

But as the arena waiting room rose and put them in the center of a completely clear stadium, Daniel winced. They could see the entire enemy team standing on the far side. So there'd be no 'scouting' phase in this match. It would be a direct and brutal brawl.

"No tags. Western team," said Achmed, their caster, his dark eyes glazed with Farsight. "Tier 2 Arcane tank, Tier 2 Martial melee, Tier 2 Martial melee, Tier 1 Hybrid affinity melee, Tier 1 pure Divine Support, Tier 1 pure Elemental Caster."

"Jesus fucking hell," said Graham, the melee/ranged hybrid.

"That's a lot of high grade beef, sir, and they're almost a damn clone," said their support.

Daniel's heart was pounding now. Just his luck to draw a powerful, foreign team first. He was the only tier one player on his team, and he was apparently up against three. He hissed for silence.

The caster was the obvious target. Or possibly the support. You could never know for sure which would be weaker. Some casters could warp around and be a pain in the ass. Others used shields. Some supports had almost no defences at all. Others could surround themselves in barriers and armor.

Daniel’s caster would help pierce the magical kind, if that's what they used. It usually was. And the other advantage was the weakness of tanks in big player duels. Being tough was great in the real world, but it didn't stop six murderers from butchering your friends in a little arena while you stood there helpless.

"Analysis of the support and caster?"

Achmed squinted, his head wobbling as it usually did when he wasn't sure.

"Support is armored. He looks tougher. I'd suggest the..."

Even Daniel could see one of the opponents floated up into the air.

"Caster is airborne...looks like a rope around his waist. Attached to the tank. And his robe and staff are glowing with power."

"Jesus fucking hell," said Graham again. But his eyes steadied, the veteran in him taking over now. "Should I focus him with arrows?"

"Yes," Daniel said. "The rest of us kill that support the moment we can, then we kill the melee. Achmed, keep alive, and bring down anything that support puts up to stop us."

"Affirmative," said their caster like the ex-soldier he was.

Daniel took a deep breath, the enemy still talking and not moving. He hadn't fought any westerners yet in the single duels. This would be his first experience with them, and who knew what sorts of tricks they had? From the videos they seemed quite poorly equipped, save for a few artifacts of incredible power.

Almost none of them had power gems. Daniel and his team had at least two each. They didn't last long, of course, but in a duel like this they rarely had to. One or two tricks, a single moment of surprise? There might be a few less players on the field. And it was time to use every damn trick they had.

"Advance," ordered Daniel, and his men moved forward in standard formation.

"Test that caster, Graham," he said, and the hybrid archer strung a magic arrow. He was a skirmisher type and a damn good shot, his arrows built to pierce magical shields. More than one caster had gone down with an arrow in his neck and a stupid look on his face.

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The enemy team was moving now. The tank unsurprisingly came first, his roped caster floating above. The two spear-armed melee moved on his flanks, the tier 1 melee a bit behind with the support.

They crossed to 150 yards. 100.

Graham struck the first blow. His blue-tinged arrow streaked with a hiss at the wizard, right on target. Daniel could see a faint purple glow around the man now and almost grinned as the arrow flew. Then dropped.

"Force defence!" Achmed shouted.

It was the very worst thing for a ranged to deal with—a kind of telekinetic ability to simply snatch small objects and toss them around, usually with very little resource. They had to deal with that support.

"Alpha," Daniel shouted, signaling a pre-arranged pattern of attack.

Every melee activated and bolted with speed from their power gems as several fiery missiles launched from the floating wizard. Their support fizzled them with an affinity counter, the competent defensive player extremely adept at stopping most enemy magic.

Daniel blinked as a huge wall of spears spread across the open ground. Their charging melee screeched to a halt and leapt to the sides to stop their momentum, their usual tactic for the moment delayed.

It wasn't completely unprecedented, but Daniel had never seen such a huge area covered like that by a melee power. Or possibly two.

The enemy tank charged through a gap in the middle with a roar, and Daniel went to meet him.

"Get around," he shouted, seeing the spears didn't go all the way to the stadium walls. But the time for strategic leadership was over now. It was all instinct and sweat and blood.

Daniel lifted his spiked mace and held his dueling dagger at the ready. He had to trust the others to deal with that support. He needed to get the tank delayed to protect his back line, then wait for the other tier 1 melee to make his move. He couldn't leave that bastard alone to get at the men behind him.

"I can't see the support," Achmed called, "temp swap."

He meant he was swapping to their next target—the caster, and would try and prevent whatever exactly was defending him. Graham's arrows were still loosing every few seconds, the missiles and fiery wizard bolts exchanging back and forth with equal futility for now.

The huge tank growled and threw a fist, his whole body crackling with arcane magic. It was definitely an unusual and unpleasant kind of tank, but Daniel knew to keep his distance and watch for power release. It came immediately.

A bolt of energy streaked out and fizzled as Daniel's dueling dagger absorbed the energy with its Nullification power. He answered with a simple but brutal smash with his mace, the spiked metal hitting the big man in the chest with a half physical and half magical crack. It obviously didn't tickle, but the big man kept on, reaching for Daniel's throat and forcing him back without seeming too affected.

They went three more rounds—magic fist against magic mace, and each time Daniel’s speed got the better of his enemy. He was damn near about to ask Achmed to bring down the tank's defences so they could just finish him when he felt the other tier 1 melee coming.

"Incoming!" he shouted, activating his Adrenaline.

The swordsman slipped around his tank like a running back, sword slashing strangely as he charged. Even with Daniel's Adrenaline charging, the man was lightning fast. A burst of energy jumped from his blade, and Daniel didn't have time to dodge. His dueling dagger hummed and vibrated in his hand as it absorbed the power, indicating it likely couldn't take much more.

But it had saved him. The swordsman charged and slashed with a two-handed chop, and Daniel parried the blow with his mace. Then again. And again.

The blade flashed and weaved with a purplish glow, leaving gouges in the enchanted steel of Daniel's mace. He'd activated Adrenaline to surprise the man and bring him down, but now it was everything he could do just not to die.

He activated Arcing Smash and tried to break the man's momentum. The ground shook with the force, his enemy surprised enough to pull back and re-assess, giving Daniel a breather.

Any moment now, he thought, knowing his men would be after that support with everything they had. Daniel only had to hold these two off, and he had his own support behind him if a few attacks got through.

The swordsman came again, another furious series of blows that Daniel barely held off, the tank now circling to get behind him.

"Graham," he shouted, "switch."

The skirmisher dropped his bow and charged the tank with spear drawn, forcing the big man to at least pay enough attention not to bash Daniel in the back. Adrenaline finally dropped, and the world sped back up as Daniel grit his teeth and fought the wave of exhaustion. To his very large relief, he was pretty sure his opponent did the same.

"Power's a bitch," he said with a grin. His enemy nodded.

"Ready boys," called a voice above. Daniel glanced up and blinked. The enemy caster was glowing with red light. He held his staff high as his robes billowed behind.

The swordsman turned and practically warped back through the gap in the spears, only the big man staying behind, not even moving forward to attack. Daniel glanced back at the men behind him, both their attention seemingly locked in concentration as they battled with the caster above.

"Status," Daniel shouted, not sure what the hell he was dealing with.

"He's been channeling," shouted Achmed. "Through his staff somehow. I didn't see it. I think he has some kind of massive spell readied but I'm not sure exactly what it..."

The wizard’s voice was drowned out as the air roared. Bright light consumed the arena, Daniel at first shielding his eyes before deciding it was time to run. Somewhere. Anywhere.

He turned but saw flaming meteors dropping from the roof just in front of him. More started falling, until everywhere seemed to be raining fire. Daniel looked for a break in the effect but couldn’t. He moved towards Achmed’s last position, his dueling dagger shaking too badly to hold.

He slammed face first into the enemy tank, finding the man in flames, his arms over his head, a painful scowl on his lips. Blue and purple shields flickered around him, but he was still on fire. Everything was on fire.

Daniel couldn't see or breathe from the smoke, from the heat. He felt a sting and tried to wave it away, then saw his arm was burning. He stopped trying to put it out.

He dropped to his knees and covered himself like the tank, feeling more and more of it fall all around him, the only sounds a terrible hissing and crackling.

Maybe it was the pain, or just the insanity of it all, but he could have sworn he heard someone laughing.