In October, after the PVP gameplay officially launched, backend statistics revealed that the number of players participating in the Martial Arena PVP exceeded ten million. It was abundantly clear that the arena mode had gained widespread recognition among players.

In November, the main storyline was updated with the Western Shu Chapter.

This chapter introduced a large number of hyper-powerful characters. The developers continued their tradition of gifting several low-star cards for free, while leaving the highest-tier Solar cards for players to draw from the gacha pool or redeem from the shop using accumulated tickets.

After saving up resources for a month, players had more than enough to pull a powerful Solar card. Naturally, the big-spending whales continued to go All In to complete their hero catalogs.

Every time Turbulent Spring and Autumn hosted an event, its revenue surged straight to the top of the charts—a sight the competition had grown entirely accustomed to by now.

The skins released that month featured the highly requested “Control & Kill” combo pair: Zhang Liang and Han Xin. Among them, Zhang Liang’s skin could be redeemed for free through event tasks, while Han Xin’s skin required a direct purchase.

Sales for this skin line were stellar once again, topping over 70 million yuan.

Back then, Qihang had invested a massive sum to develop the dual-platform cross-network connectivity. Fortunately, in under six months of operation, the game had already recouped all its development costs. Everything moving forward was pure net profit.

The developers didn’t throw out messy, cash-grab events just to artificially inflate revenue.

The main storyline maintained a steady rhythm of updating once a month, and skins were released at a rate of two per month—one given away via events, and one sold in the shop.

Following the Western Shu Chapter, December brought the Northern Wei Chapter.

Heroic figures of the Wei Kingdom—such as Cao Cao, Cao Pi, Cao Zhi, Xun Yu, Guo Jia, and Zhang Liao—made their grand entrances one after another.

As a vast array of Three Kingdoms heroes took the stage, players’ hero pools grew increasingly rich, giving rise to far more diverse team compositions in the arena.

At the end of December, Season 1 came to a close, with many players reaching the coveted Tier 9 rank.

These veteran players had mastered the intricacies of the arena. They could skillfully deploy various War Manuals and Formations, while player-led strategy groups compiled extensive team composition guides for newcomers to study and reference.

In early January, the individual ladder entered a one-week off-season, and pre-registration for the Guild League officially kicked off.

At the same time, the main storyline updated with the Warlords Era Chapter.

The official account posted a tournament announcement:

“The First Official Tournament of ‘Turbulent Spring and Autumn’ Is About to Begin!”

The tournament is divided into two categories: Individual Group and Guild Group. Registrations open on January 15. The tournament will be held entirely online, divided into four stages: Open Qualifiers, Preliminaries, Semi-Finals, and Finals. Players who achieved Tier 5 or higher in the Martial Arena during Season 1 are eligible to register.

Individual Contestants: You can submit your personal information directly through the in-game ‘Hero League’ portal!

Guild Contestants: Guild Leaders, please register your teams in the Guild League channel. The matches will officially commence on January 20 at 12:00 PM. All participating players will receive the exclusive ‘Hero of Turbulent Times’ limited avatar frame. The Champions, Runners-Up, and Third-Place winners will also receive exclusive custom skins!

Total Prize Pool for this Event: 5 Million Yuan.

Individual Group: Champion, Runner-Up, and Third Place will receive 500,000 RMB, 200,000 RMB, and 100,000 RMB respectively. Contestants who make the Top 100 will each receive 10,000 RMB.

Guild Group: Champion, Runner-Up, and Third Place will receive 600,000 RMB, 300,000 RMB, and 150,000 RMB respectively. Guilds that reach the Top 50 will each receive 20,000 RMB.

The remaining prize money will be placed into a raffle pool for all participating players. Every single contestant stands a chance to win cash rewards!

For detailed rules, please visit the official website—

Upon seeing this announcement, PVP enthusiasts instantly felt an adrenaline rush.

This was an official tournament hosted directly by the developers! And they actually put up a massive 5 million yuan prize pool? Talk about generous!

Currently, the number of games capable of hosting esports tournaments could be counted on one hand. Most of them were fighting or shooting games where winning depended entirely on mechanical skill and lightning reflexes—extremely unforgiving to “clumsy-handed” players.

But turn-based strategy games were different.

When it was your opponent’s turn, you didn’t need to execute complex mechanics, giving you ample time to think. Even when your turn came, you had a 10-second countdown timer to organize your thoughts and carefully set up your play.

This kind of tactical, turn-based gameplay allowed even mechanically challenged players to enjoy themselves to the fullest.

Winning was no longer about APM or finger speed, but about “brain speed.” Players needed to exercise their minds to construct synergies and calculate combat strategies. Occasionally, a stroke of tactical genius would leave even their opponents applauding in admiration.

It was a true battle of wits.

With the developers setting such a staggering prize pool, competitive high-rankers naturally hungered for the top rewards. Meanwhile, casual players could use the event to broaden their horizons and pick up new strategies.

Even if you couldn’t make it to the Semi-Finals or Finals, you could still try your luck in the player raffle. Plus, everyone got a free limited avatar frame! This was clearly designed to encourage universal participation—a welfare event built for “nationwide competition.”

And if your skills were even slightly above average and you managed to squeeze into the Top 100, you’d net a cool 10,000 yuan in cash!

This was the very first time players had ever seen an official developer offer so many benefits just for entering a tournament.

In most tournaments, let alone the Top 100, even making the Top 10 didn’t guarantee you a single dime—most participants were just along for the ride, walking away with absolutely nothing after the grind.

Turbulent Spring and Autumn, however, was different. It wasn’t a rigid “professional esports title,” nor did it have dedicated pro players who played it as a full-time career.

Luo Hang’s original intention behind hosting this tournament was simply to “encourage everyone to engage in PVP gameplay.” That was why the participation rewards were set so high, which massively boosted player enthusiasm.

If you only awarded prize money to the Champion, Runner-Up, and Third Place, the vast majority of casual players would feel like “I’ll never win anyway” and wouldn’t even bother preparing.

But when the Top 100 all got cash rewards? That changed everything!

Sure enough, as soon as the announcement dropped, a massive wave of players rushed to the in-game League channel to sign up. Within a single day, registrations for the Individual Group surged past 2 million players, and the numbers were still climbing wildly.

The rules for the Guild League were somewhat more complex. Level 5 Guilds could register 2 teams, while Guilds below Level 4 could only register 1. Each team consisted of 6 players, with each player bringing 3 heroes into battle—making it a 18v18 Relay Gauntlet Mode.

If a Guild won a place in the tournament, the participating players would receive cash prizes, while all members of the Guild could claim a special gift pack in-game. On top of that, a golden badge reading “1st Official Turbulent Spring and Autumn Tournament Champion” would be displayed beneath the Guild’s name.

Walking around with that title on display would look mind-blowingly cool!

Every major Guild burned with the desire to claim first place in the League.

However, the sheer popularity of Turbulent Spring and Autumn was beyond imagination. At present, across all 70 servers, most were tagged with a bright red “OVERCROWDED” status.

Servers 1 through 10, having been utterly overwhelmed since launch day, had even locked new account registrations entirely.

With such a staggering volume of Guilds spread across so many servers, no one could say for sure who would manage to break through the heavy siege.

Because of this, several top-tier Guilds found themselves plunged into internal turmoil.

For instance, in Server 1’s largest Guild, Amusement Park, the Guild Leader actively asked in the Guild channel: “For the Guild War, is anyone willing to step up as the Shotcaller?”

Tiantian Chouka: “I’m okay in Individual PVP, but I don’t know the first thing about an 18v18 mode.”

Baobaoxiong: “How about letting Sister Lin do it? I think her tactical sense in the arena is super sharp.”

Linshuang: “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t dare take it~ If we lose, it’d be way too embarrassing!”

The message counter in the Guild channel flew past 999+ in the blink of an eye.

In a tournament like this, the Shotcaller position carried astronomical pressure. If you won, the whole Guild got rewards, and everyone would shower you with praises and type ‘666’ in chat. But if you lost, it would be hard to answer for, and you might even face finger-pointing and blame.

After agonizing over it for an entire day, the members finally decided to hold a vote to select their roster and Shotcaller.

In other Guilds, members ended up getting into fierce arguments during the registration phase over who got a spot on the roster—some arguments grew so heated that Guilds outright disbanded on the spot!

For the past few days, the Weibo Super Topic was completely flooded with server gossip:

“In Server 1’s ‘Peerless’ Guild, a big whale was furious that he didn’t get a tournament slot, so he rage-quit, took a group of people with him, and built his own Guild~”

“I heard Server 6’s biggest Guild, ‘God of War’, completely blew up in a fight too.”

“Our Guild is the exact opposite. Nobody wants to go, so the Guild Leader is dragging us kicking and screaming to force us to register!”

“The big servers really are complicated. Our backwater rural server is so peaceful and harmonious.”

As gossip from various servers continued to pile up online, Luo Hang got a headache watching it all and came to vent to Xie Yunfan: “I raised the prize pool with the intention of encouraging everyone to join in the fun. How did it end up causing so many Guilds to fight?”

Xie Yunfan chuckled: “It’s totally normal.”

Wherever there are people, there is a jianghu—a world of drama. If an MMORPG didn’t have a bit of gossip and bickering, could it even be called an MMO? This game didn’t even have marriage, sworn brotherhood, or mentorship systems yet; if it did, the drama would be truly endless.

Luo Hang had indeed been overwhelmed with work these past few days. Xie Yunfan comforted him, saying, “Don’t worry, the vast majority of players are very harmonious. The few Guilds that are fighting already had internal issues to begin with—even without the tournament, they would’ve fallen apart sooner or later. Let me focus on locking down the streaming platform and official casters first.”

Luo Hang said, “I’m currently negotiating with the platforms. Both Blue Fish and Spirit Cat have expressed strong interest in collaborating. With Blue Fish, we streamed there during our previous promo, so we’re more familiar with them, but Spirit Cat offered better terms this time.”

Xie Yunfan asked, “Are you leaning more toward Spirit Cat then?”

Luo Hang nodded: “Mm. Spirit Cat TV promised top-banner recommendations and pop-up promo banners for the tournament. Furthermore, any contracted streamers on their platform that we take a liking to can be invited as guest commentators for free.”

These terms were indeed exceptionally sincere. Xie Yunfan thought for a moment and said, “On Spirit Cat’s side, among the well-known streamers playing our game… what about Xiakucao?”

Luo Hang replied, “I know him. Back during Court Intrigue, he unlocked a lot of S+ endings—a real strategy master. Inviting him as a commentator is fine, but I don’t know if he’s willing. We’ll contact him first and see.”

Xie Yunfan suggested, “For the second guest, can we invite Mengtu? Having one male and one female caster works best.”

Luo Hang was a bit surprised: “You mean that female streamer who streams her gacha pulls every day?”

Xie Yunfan smiled: “That’s her. I watch her stream sometimes—she’s pretty funny. She spent tens of thousands of yuan in Millennium Love, and she’s spent quite a bit on Turbulent Spring and Autumn as well. She has a bright, cheerful personality; with her around, the atmosphere will never go cold.”

Luo Hang agreed crisply: “Alright, let’s lock in those two first. I’ll contact the platform to invite them. If they’re busy and can’t make it, we’ll look for alternatives.”

That afternoon, while Mengtu was streaming, she suddenly received a call from her platform.

Contracted streamers had managers assigned to them by the platform. Seeing her manager’s name pop up on the caller ID, Mengtu hurriedly muted her stream window and answered the call: “Hello, Sister Fei! What’s up?”

The other side smiled and said, “Rabbit, here’s the deal: isn’t Turbulent Spring and Autumn hosting a tournament? We’ve signed a contract with the official team, and the entire tournament will be live-streamed on Spirit Cat TV. They want to invite you to serve as a guest commentator, so I wanted to check if your schedule is open.”

Mengtu: “!!!”

Holy crap!

She had originally been planning to register for the tournament as a player, but she had just been upgraded straight to a guest caster?!

Talk about a pie falling straight out of the sky!

Mengtu nodded like a woodpecker: “Yes, yes, I’m willing! I’m on standby 24 hours a day, totally free!”

Her manager was amused by her enthusiasm: “Alright then, I’ll reply to them right away.”

Mengtu asked in a small voice, “Are there other guests?”

Her manager said, “There’s one more—Xiakucao. He accepted as well. After all, being officially invited as a guest carries a different level of prestige for a streamer, as you know.”

Mengtu gasped: “Ahhh, Xiaocao! Even though I don’t know him personally, I watch his strategy guides all the time!”

Her manager added, “You and Xiakucao will fly to Rong City on the afternoon of January 19. I’ll book the plane tickets for you. Qihang Group will send someone to pick you up at the airport and walk you through the tournament schedule in advance.”

Mengtu was so excited she became incoherent: “Th-That’s amazing! Thank you, Sister Fei!”

After hanging up the phone, Mengtu remained in a state of sheer euphoria.

Being officially invited by the developers was a form of “industry recognition”—it proved that the developers considered you top-tier in popularity and possessed great game sense. Appearing on the official stream stream was also a fantastic opportunity for a streamer to boost their audience!

She just wondered… when she went to Rong City this time, would she get a chance to meet Little Sailboat?

Luo Hang operated under a strict principle—either don’t do something at all, or do it to absolute perfection, never cutting corners.

In this regard, he was remarkably similar to Xie Yunfan.

Take this tournament, for instance. It wasn’t a professional “esports event,” yet Luo Hang brought out the standards of hosting a world-class championship.

The online matches featured both automated system referees and human referees, which required a significant human resource investment. The offline live broadcast was hosted in Rong City, where he invited media journalists and secured a specialized broadcast studio.

The lighting, sound system, and camera setups were all handled by a professional broadcast team hired directly from major esports events.

Even the studio lighting was fine-tuned repeatedly to ensure the best possible broadcast visuals.

On the afternoon of January 19, Qihang’s PR department dispatched a driver to pick up Mengtu and Xiakucao from the airport.

After they settled into their hotel, the PR manager said amicably, “Tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM, I’ll pick you two up and take you to the venue. The Open Qualifiers phase won’t be broadcasted; official streaming starts the day after tomorrow.”

Once the PR manager left, Mengtu and Xiakucao exchanged friend contacts.

Mengtu was naturally outgoing and started chatting warmly right away. Xiakucao was very handsome—a true visual staple among streamers—and had a great temper, acting exceptionally polite and gentlemanly.

Since both were content creators, they had plenty of common topics to share. After chatting for a while, Mengtu couldn’t help asking, “I really want to meet Little Sailboat. Do you think there’s a chance this time?”

Xiakucao said, “He’s usually so busy, he probably won’t come tomorrow, right?”

Mengtu nodded in agreement: “I think so too. He’s probably supervising a new game project.”

Both of them assumed that an event like this would be handled entirely by the operations team, making Xie Yunfan’s presence highly unlikely.

The following morning, Mengtu and Xiakucao arrived at the broadcast venue together. Both were instantly stunned by the studio’s lighting, sound, and camera equipment—isn’t this a bit too official?!

Sitting beneath the studio lights, both felt a flicker of nervousness in their chests.

This was completely different from streaming at home. When streaming on your own, you could vent or curse when things went wrong. But this was an official event—if you misspoke on air, you’d be in serious trouble.

You couldn’t just casually toss out phrases like “holy crap” or “insane” every two seconds. On an official broadcast, your choice of words had to be rigorous!

After running through the detailed schedule with the floor director, the clock struck 11:00 AM.

Just then, the door to the broadcast room was pushed open, and two men walked in, one behind the other.

The man in front was tall and imposing, dressed in leather shoes, dress pants, and a tailored black overcoat. He carried a stern demeanor and a powerful aura, appearing somewhat formidable.

The man behind him wore casual jeans paired with a beige sweater. His soft, layered hair fell naturally near his ears, and his face was framed by a warm, welcoming smile that gave off an immensely comforting vibe.

The nearby staff members immediately greeted them respectfully: “Mr. Luo, Mr. Xie.”

Luo Hang offered a faint smile: “You two have traveled a long way. Thank you for your hard work. Was the journey smooth?”

Although his first impression was cold and serious, his smile was impeccably polite and gentle.

As he stepped forward to shake hands, Mengtu and Xiakucao quickly stood up and greeted politely, “Hello, Mr. Luo.”

The nearby floor director chimed in, “Rest assured, Mr. Luo, everything is running smoothly.”

Xie Yunfan also proactively extended his hand: “Hello, Sister Rabbit, Xiaocao. I watch your streams all the time.”

Mengtu was flattered beyond belief: “Ah? Really?!”

Holy crap, Little Sailboat actually watches my streams?!

Xiakucao looked at Xie Yunfan, his eyes filled with genuine admiration: “Hello! I love the games you produce. Whether it’s ‘Court Intrigue’ or ‘Turbulent Spring and Autumn’, I’ve played them for a long time. They’re incredibly fun.”

Xie Yunfan smiled: “Thank you. I’ve watched you play on stream—your tactical thinking is very sharp. If you ever spot any shortcomings in our games, feel free to give us feedback anytime. It’s totally fine to curse at me, too. I know whenever people fail to pull a Solar card, they’re all calling me a ‘dog designer’ in chat.”

Mengtu and Xiakucao: “…”

It was true—countless players cursed the dog designer while pulling cards. Xie Yunfan didn’t mind it in the slightest; addressing it with a lighthearted joke instantly made the atmosphere in the room far more relaxed and pleasant.

They hadn’t expected Little Sailboat to have such a great personality! He didn’t carry a shred of a boss’s arrogance and had even taken the time to visit them in the broadcast room.

Luo Hang glanced down at his watch and said, “Yunfan, I’ve already booked the restaurant. Shall we grab lunch with our two guests?”

Xie Yunfan looked over at him: “Where did you book?”

Luo Hang said, “The same private dining place we went to last time. The driver will be here shortly.”

Xie Yunfan smiled faintly: “Alright. After lunch, have the driver send me back to the company. I have a meeting with the production team this afternoon, and you should remember to come too.”

Luo Hang: “No problem.”

The surrounding staff members: “…”

When those two talked, there was a strange “bubble” that seemed to isolate everyone else.

The bosses of the two companies were so close in private! No wonder every single game born from the Yangfan-Qihang partnership turned into a massive blockbuster!

That noon, Xiakucao and Mengtu had lunch with Xie Yunfan, Luo Hang, as well as the floor director and camera crew.

The restaurant Luo Hang booked had a fantastic atmosphere, specializing in Rong City private cuisine with exquisite plating and phenomenal flavors. During the meal, Xie Yunfan actively initiated conversations with the two guest casters, maintaining an exceptionally polite and friendly attitude.

Mengtu couldn’t help thinking—Little Sailboat looks even better in person than on video! Previously, she had only seen him on screen accepting awards during the livestreamed ceremony. Seeing him offline for the first time up close, his features were even more refined, his skin was flawless, and he looked extraordinarily handsome when he smiled.

To achieve such success at such a young age was truly something to admire and respect.

After lunch, Xie Yunfan even had staff present both guests with merch gift boxes—these were unreleased Turbulent Spring and Autumn merchandise sets. Receiving them in advance brought immense joy to both streamers.

On January 20 at noon, the First Official Tournament of Turbulent Spring and Autumn officially commenced.

The first day was the Open Qualifiers, where all registered players participated in randomized elimination matches. Because there were far too many teams and skill levels varied wildly, no official broadcast stream was opened for this stage.

Netizens who regularly tuned into Xiakucao’s stream were surprised to find that he had “taken time off” today.

Many raised questions in chat:

“Is Xiaocao not streaming today?”

“Didn’t he register for the tournament?”

“He’s all talk and no action! When it comes to real combat, he chickened out!”

Similar speculations popped up in Mengtu’s stream chat as well. Many claimed that her taking time off right when the tournament started was a sign that she was “chickening out.”

Day 1 of the Open Qualifiers moved at a blistering pace. In a best-of-three elimination format, half the teams were wiped out in each round. After a dozen consecutive rounds, the vast majority of players had been eliminated, leaving with nothing but their commemorative avatar frames.

On January 21, the tournament entered the Preliminaries.

At noon, a prominent “FEATURED” broadcast banner appeared on the front page of Spirit Cat TV.

The official broadcast channel was finally open.

“Good afternoon, everyone! Welcome to the live broadcast of the First Official Tournament of Turbulent Spring and Autumn! I am your guest commentator, Mengtu.”

“And I am your guest commentator, Xiakucao.”

The bullet-chat section in the stream instantly exploded.

“HOLY CRAP! You two went to be guest commentators?!”

“Officially invited casters? That’s insane!”

“Where are those people who mocked them for chickening out now? They were hired by the devs to cast the event!”

Mengtu looked radiant today, sporting a crisp ponytail and bursting with vitality. Xiakucao wore a sharp suit, smiling warmly with refined elegance.

It had to be said that the official team had great taste in choosing guests—a handsome guy and a pretty girl sitting side-by-side was immensely pleasing to the eye.

Many casual viewers immediately followed both of their personal streaming accounts because of this.

Mengtu said, “Today is Round 1 of the Preliminaries. A total of 500 Individual teams and 100 Guild teams have made it into the Preliminaries.”

Xiakucao continued, “Our broadcast will randomly select matches to commentate for everyone. The first match we’re featuring is a Guild War. I wonder which two lucky teams will be picked?”

Mengtu looked at him and asked, “Xiaocao, have you played the Guild War mode before?”

Xiakucao replied, “I’ve played it a few times since it launched. It demands far more tactical formation and positioning than Individual PVP.”

Mengtu nodded: “That’s right. The Guild War is a relay gauntlet mode featuring 3 squads—which means 18 heroes total. Once the first squad falls, the second squad enters immediately, and the match doesn’t end until one side’s heroes are completely wiped out. Since you can only bring three War Manuals per match, the Shotcaller’s leadership is critical.”

Xiakucao added, “6 players each control 6 heroes in battle, communicating over voice chat to coordinate. The match is about to begin, so let’s head into our first matchup!”

The lucky teams drawn for this match were the Guild “Candy Town” from Server 66 versus the Guild “Heroes of the World” from Server 8.

For their first squad, Candy Town deployed a Han Dynasty burst-speed team led by Lü Zhi and Liu Bang. Lü Zhi grabbed the first-turn initiative to instantly burst down the enemy’s main DPS, securing a dominant upper hand.

When Heroes of the World’s first squad was wiped out, Candy Town’s first squad still had 5 members alive and standing.

This was an absolute “disastrous start” for Heroes of the World.

Xiakucao analyzed: “In this gauntlet mode, the second round is crucial. Since Heroes of the World’s first squad collapsed, they must hold the line with their second squad. If the second squad loses as well, it will be almost impossible to turn the game around.”

Mengtu asked, “If you were the Shotcaller, who would you deploy for the second squad?”

Xiakucao thought for a moment and said, “I would probably bring out the Eastern Wu Water Comp to drag out the pace, holding off as long as possible until both sides are roughly equal in skills and hero count before heading into Round 3.”

The Shotcaller for Heroes of the World happened to think along the exact same lines as Xiakucao.

After their first squad was wiped out, he indeed deployed the Eastern Wu Water Comp.

Da Qiao and Xiao Qiao began aggressively stalling the tempo, Lü Meng used Crossing the River in White to go stealthed and evade damage, while Gu Yong provided continuous party-wide healing. Although these two were Lunar cards, when placed in a Water Comp designed to stall, they proved exceptionally effective.

Even though the opposing Han team still had several high-burst DPS heroes alive, after being stalled for two turns, Lü Zhi couldn’t grab the first-turn speed initiative, and Han Xin was frozen solid on the spot… It felt like punching blindly into a mound of soft cotton.

This round dragged on for 10 full turns before the Han team was finally wiped out.

However, Candy Town’s second squad immediately swept in with a Five Tiger Generals crit-burst composition, wiping out Eastern Wu’s Water team.

Mengtu said anxiously, “The situation doesn’t look good! Heroes of the World’s second squad has been wiped out, leaving them with only their last 6 heroes. Meanwhile, Candy Town still has Liu Bang, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei alive, and their third squad hasn’t even entered the field yet!”

Xiakucao said, “In other words, Candy Town has 9 usable heroes, while Heroes of the World has only 6. On the surface, Candy Town holds a massive advantage. But there’s a crucial detail—Heroes of the World’s Shotcaller hasn’t used a single War Manual yet. Is he saving them for a massive final burst?”

The viewers watched the broadcast screen in breathless anticipation.

For their third squad, Heroes of the World fielded a composition of Zhuge Liang + Zhang Jiao + Diaochan + Lü Bu + Dong Zhuo + Cai Wenji. This setup was incredibly novel, utilizing a large number of newly released heroes.

Dong Zhuo was the tankiest “meat shield” in the game so far, drawing fire with taunts to protect his allies; Cai Wenji provided healing and CC cleanse; Lü Bu dealt massive single-target critical damage; Zhang Jiao brought chain lightning damage, while Diaochan and Zhuge Liang served as supports.

This team, which looked like a random assortment of heroes that had nothing to do with each other, actually produced miraculous synergy!

At the start of the turn, Diaochan secured the first speed turn and immediately cast Alienation Strategy, causing Guan Yu and Zhang Fei to turn on each other—leading Zhang Fei to strike down Guan Yu on the spot!

Next up, Lü Bu moved and charged at the high-HP Liu Bei. He failed to kill him outright, but the Shotcaller immediately triggered the 《Borrow a Sword to Kill Another》 War Manual, forcing Zhang Fei to attack Liu Bei!

When it came to the opposing Zhang Fei’s turn, the half-health Liu Bei was directly executed by his own younger brother.

Players watching the stream: “…………”

Candy Town’s Shotcaller was probably going to explode with rage. One Alienation Strategy plus one Borrow a Sword to Kill Another, and 3 of his heroes were instantly dead—two of which were killed by their own teammate?!