Leo uttered only three sentences in the span of three hours. And they differed only by their tense.

"This will never work," Leo giggled while throwing one last look from his city's tower at the swarm of an army he gathered.

Their numbers filled the entire valley with the city in its middle.

Yet, in spite of their mind-boggling number, those troops were all perfectly uniform. They were identical in what they wore... and in how not a single one of them bore a single weapon besides their pastoral staff.

"This shouldn't be working," Leo uttered for the second time.

It happened a single hour after his first statement. Yet, instead of the former look of amusement and extreme self-satisfaction, his face was now stale.

Leo stood atop the outer wall of the enemy capital. And while only a small portion of his massive horde reached the city's insides, it was already enough to start overwhelming local defenses.

"This can't be working!" Leo screamed while simultaneously striking his fist against an innocent piece of wall.

It took him just as long to traverse the map on which the match was held as he took for his forces to reach the inner core of his opponent's town.

Leon achieved all of that with units that had no means to attack in the first place.

"Wolololo..." an extremely loud chant raised from every nook and cranny of the city.

'Not even half of those monks entered the city,' Leon thought while turning around to steal a glance of the wide plain.

His opponent picked the best place to quickly develop his foundations while making it hard to stealthily approach. There wasn't any cover that Leo's troops could take while marching on the city either.

Scores of Leo's monks would die from the volleys unleashed by the city archers. Swaths of them would give their lives to climb the walls and simply push the enemy units off them.

The number of monks that died on the city's streets was so big that their corpses clogged the streets and slowed down Leo's advance.

But...

"How could a fucking pro fail to prepare for the oldest meme-strategy in the book?" Leo lamented from his vantageous position atop the city walls.

Ever since his troops gained the first foothold there, he stood bravely in his favourable spot.

'I didn't even bother to give them any commands beyond a general attack,' Leo whined in his thoughts, hiding his face in the palm of his hand.

This wasn't the plan.

Leo's troops were supposed to all die before they could even cross the open plain. His enemy was supposed to execute a swift counterattack, just like it would happen in a real tournament. Before the third hour would pass, Leo's city would burn, bringing forth his defeat in the match.

'And then I would get qualified from the comfortable sixth place,' Leon thought, shaking his head while still hiding his face within his palm.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

But the damage was already done.

'If I pull the troops now, everyone would figure out I threw the game,' Leon thought grumpily, forcing his hand off his face.

Now that it was too late, all he could do to honor his opponent was to watch his demise.

"How the hell did this guy got scouted by an organization?" Leo whined under his nose.

Yet, just a single look at the situation at the core of the city was enough for an answer.

The garrison was made according to the current meta on the pro level. It consisted of seven parts of light yet high-level infantry for every two parts of elite heavy guards.

This build allowed both flexibilities provided by the light units and the stalwart defensiveness of the guards.

The only mistake Leo's opponent committed was an underwhelming number of archers and artillery. The two units that even a low-level player would spam as soon as they could.

'Maybe his pride got to him?' Leo attempted to understand the motives of the other party.

Sure, archers were troublesome to build while mounted artillery was both extremely expensive and impossible to use during an attack. Yet, they usually formed the core of the static defense necessary to prevent the scenario that was playing before everyone's eyes.

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Leo muttered, watching how his monks died in hundreds, all for the sake of using their one and only skill.

An ability to slowly convert enemy troops to Leo's side.

Monks were a unit added as an easter egg by the developers. A homage to the late founders of the strategy games genre who took over the world with their "Era of Empire" series.

Using monks to defeat the opponent was both the original joke tactic of the old series and the [Magic and Might] that Leo played right now. Yet, over time, using them to win earned a different meaning.

Facilitating this tactic turned from a joke into a humiliation.

And right now, Leo could see his enemy troops quickly culling those defenders that failed to convert so far.

'Stop hitting yourself, or how a genius tactician broke the pride of the local e-sport leaders!' Leon thought grimly, already imagining the titles of the thematical news that would appear first thing in the morning.

He then threw one last look at the city below.

Its core was failing. The leftover defenders didn't even try to stop the incoming onslaught anymore. Their morale broke, rendering all the efforts of Leo's opponent to rally them useless.

[Magic and Might]

[Great Victory!]

Surely enough, a congratulatory screen appeared before Leo's eyes, quickly replacing the vivid picture of the post-siege city.

'This is going to be a massive pain in the butt,' Leon thought, swiping the victory card away with his hand before calling forth the main menu. He logged out of the game first before powering off the mainframe of his VR helmet.

Leon waited for all the lights to disappear. Once the sense of his real body returned, he grabbed the helmet and pulled it out of his head. Following the movements he practiced thousands of times, he rested them on a nearby light stand before relaxing back on the bed.

"This is really going to be a pain in the ass," Leon complained, keeping his eyes closed to allow the leftover hypno-agent to evaporate.

Leon raised up from the bed exactly two minutes later. He opened his eyes only to be faced with his distasteful reflection in the small mirror on the wall opposite his bed.

His once green eyes now turned into a light shade of brown due to the overdose of the hypno-agent. The huge, violet bags below them only proved how reckless Leon was with its usage.

Leon's hair had the same color as his now-changed eyes and fell all the way down to his shoulders.

'I look as bad as ever, huh?' he thought before shaking his head and reaching out.

With a single touch, the mirror turned into an interactive screen. A menu grew up to its side while most of its surface turned into Leon's workspace. Yet, despite its interactiveness, Leon simply laid back in the bed.

"Open the mail," he used his voice instead of his hands. While the laziness aspect clearly came into the picture, Leon simply wanted to let his eyes rest a little bit more.

"Did the invitation to the qualification arrive?" the young man asked.

"The invitation to the local qualifications for the pro-league arrived," the cold voice of Leon's operating system replied to his question.

Leon's lips quivered before their corners raised up.

"I already fucked up, so I might as well go for it, don't I?" Mathew asked the small and empty room that was actually his entire house. Only the great soundproofing that he squandered most of his money for stopped his voice from echoing.

Leon then closed his eyes and openly smiled.

"I wish to retire my entire account in magic and might."