Chapter 27: Perhaps, the sleeping prince is waiting for a kiss of his princess in white to wake him up

Fearless has engaged in relationships with over thousand girls and women, some platonic and pure, some purely physical, some were merely to serve ulterior purposes… Yet, the number of women who mattered to his life stopped at five, and without a doubt, his sister was on that list.

If Fearless had to rank his sister on his top-ten list of the most insane people he had ever met, she would undoubtedly make it to the top five without fail. As for the number one spot, Fearless could clearly see that bastard every single time he was in front of a mirror. What was that bastard if not the definition of insanity?

That was the only thing he could beat his sister.

His sister was a special existence. She was the only sister he has ever had, his kindred, his sunshine, his demon goddess, and his better. Fearless feared her, revered her, and even worshipped her at the same time.

However, she’s also an insane bitch, the kind that had those “How to train your Shota,” or “The art of Mind Control for dummy,” or “Cold reading, how to know when your boyfriend is lying to you,” or “S&M, how to spice up your love life,” and many more similar insane title ebooks hiding inside her PC. She did not just read them. She tested the knowledge from those books on Fearless which eventually got the both of them locked in a constant arms race. Those books are the R&D and the insane knowledge from them is the technological advantages in the arms race.

Though, half of them were actually junks, a load of horse manure, the other half weren’t, “Fantastic breasts and where to find them” for instance was more than helpful.

Fearless could see his sister’s finger print on almost every decision he has ever made and more.

She is the reason he awoke to S&M and became the professional at it at the tender age of fifteen, and that should not be the age for any person to even know what S&M is.

That one time he was drugged and woke up to see himself bounded to a royal bed of a hotel with the four women in bondage costumes standing in front of him, had it not for the experiences he had with his sister, it could become a huge mess.

Those amateurs, they thought that wearing a bondage costume and having a whip on their hands would make them the S queens, truly amateurs. A man doesn’t become the greatest swordsman just because he wields the best sword in his hands and a woman can’t become an S queen over the night wearing the most expensive bondage costumes with the most expensive whip on her hands either.

They thought they could make him submit to the binding and the whips while having such terrible skills and half-ass knowledge, there should be a limit to how naïve grown girls like them could be.

That kind of naivety made Fearless smiled while commenting how cute they all were.

In the end, Fearless had to teach them what S&M truly is. “S&M is not about the bondage, the costume or the whip. Rapport is the most important thing in S&M.” He taught them.

“It did not matter who was the S and who was the M in a S&M play.” He whispered to them while binding them to the bed and putting a blindfold on their eyes and inserting a gag ball into their mouth, one by one, “It was the thrill, the expectation, and the pleasure at the end of the play when your trust is rewarded by your partner. Pain can never be translated to pleasure without the existence of love and rapport.”

Those grown girls meekly rested their back on the bed, anticipating for the pain and the pleasure to come.

Except, Fearless went home after that, leaving those naïve grown girls in that half naked, bounded, and gagged state for several hours before making a call for the hotel securities to free them. Love should be consensual. S&M should be consensual and not forced. That was their punishment for not understand something as simple as that.

The only woman that is allowed to push him down and reverse-rape him is his sister alone. But he had no need to explain that to them.

They called him a dick for doing leaving them dry and hanging. Still, they dated him after that. Thus, left Fearless himself confused of which one of them was supposed to be the insane one, him or them.

Love is such a strange thing.

In the end, his sister was the only reason he became attracted to all sort of insane and dangerous women. She was the reason he had a morbid love of watching the face of a jealous woman.

She was the very opposite of Alice, the Yin to Alice’s Yang.

Alice brought out the sunshine and best of Fearless, whereas his sister had the talent to bring out the worst and the ugliest parts of him at anytime and anywhere. Then she would make him come to term with that, that he was just as insane and ugly as anyone else. Only then, she would tell him that she loved him more than anyone else in the world and that she loved everything about him, whether that it was his beautiful parts, his ugly parts or his insane parts, everything.

She was the kind of brazen and insane bitch that would put her hand inside of his pant pocket right in a plaza in the middle of their afternoon date, giving him a painful bulging erection. And then, she would quietly mock him of being a pervert for having a massive erection in a public area and tease him to dead for that. After that, she would drag him into an obscure place, giving him a head whilst telling him that the only person in the world could accept a huge pervert like him was an insane and pervert bitch like her.

She loved to give him a head while telling him “What a perverted and sorry cock you have”. If Fearless ever dared to retaliate or talk back to her in that moment, she would bite it to condition him and taught him a lesson at the same time.

It did not matter what he did, she could always turn the table on him. That was the lesson. She would repeat it again and again to make sure he remembered it. Lesson is meant to be revised over and over again until you learned it by the heart, she said. Though, Fearless had no doubt that his sister loved sucking his magnum and that lesson could be a pretense to cover it up.

While she was conditioning him, he pulled the same trick on her. Fearless would gently comb his fingers through her hair, kiss her dark cascade and whisper “Good girl” into her ears. That would pull out the hidden vanilla flavor out of her every time. Eventually, the word “Good girl” became a trigger to bring out a gentle and nurturing side of her.

Fearless’ relationship with her was just that toxic. Their love was ten percent of vanilla, forty percent of thrill and fifty percent of insanity. She could give him the low-low in one moment and then the high-high in the next. She was like his personal brand of heroin.

She was truly a terrifying existence. She was always ahead of him. She was the only one person Fearless could never win.

She redefined what love was for him. Hitherto meeting her, love was gentle, sweet and warm, like honey, like sugar, and like the warm glow of morning sun.

With her, love was the playful slap across the cheeks. Love was the biting. Love was the constant wrestle for dominance. Love was manipulative. Love was the thrill of forbidden adventures. Love was secretive and indecent.

With her, love was ever strange and often outright confusing.

Fearless remembered having a great relationship with a middle age beast tamer while he was under tutelage of that old illusionist. She was gentle and motherly. She would tell him how cute he was. She would give him candies and snacks. She would hug him and give him a gentle kiss on his forehead like he was her child.

That did not sit well with his sister. Somehow, she managed to smell out that relationship and became insanely jealous about it despite there was nothing indecent about it. Her slap was more painful than usual. Her bite struck blood on his shoulder. Her kiss was fiercer than usual. Her blowjob was better than usual. Her eyes were awash with tears while making him promised to not get into a relationship with that beast tamer while threatening to bit off his balls at the same time. It was truly painful and terrifying.

And yet, it was addictive.

He has never seen her like that before. She paid no attention to the army of girls who surrounded him and protected him every day in school. She had no qualm of him being smothered by those girls. She did not mind sharing him with her flat mate when she entered college to buy the latter’s vow of silence and secrecy. She did not mind the 3P with that flat mate either.

Though, she was upset of his relationship with Alice but never to this extent. That sight of her being desperate, it made Fearless wanted to push for more.

Of course, his sister immediately understood that she has made a mistake the moment she allowed her emotion to get the better of her. Since, his sister would come to the circus as soon as her school ended, waiting to pick him up whilst guarding him from that gentle woman’s cuddle.

Fearless remembered that one day while she was pedaling home with him at the back of her granny bicycle; they came across a group of boys from his school.

Those pitiful souls, perhaps they thought Fearless’ sister was any less than the army of girls who would always be there to protect him at school and took the opportunity. One of them ran after the bicycle and let fly a single pebble at Fearless’ head.

His sister hit the brake to a full stop and approached those pitiful souls whilst tying the long sleeves of her white aodai around her waist like a belt. She always looks lovely in her white aodai, but the image of her tying her aodai up was really scary.

She then took off her wooden sandals and set loose the demon within her on those poor souls.

If he had a choice, Fearless would trade that army of girls for his sister alone. She would make one hell of a bodyguard.

“Holy shit” is the only word to capture the totality, barbarity and brutality of the scene unfolded after that, holy shit. She was an extremely territorial woman. She did not appreciate people touch or damage her things without her consent.

The result of that incident was three months of grounding, the confiscation of her smart phone and docking of pocket money for his sister. His adopt parents were very strict as educators. They could not tolerate such behavior even though they could understand the motivation behind the action.

Even though, his sister obediently accepted her punishment behind her professional crocodile tears, she told Fearless that she had no regret. Somehow, she managed to make that ridiculous scene heroic and inspirational with her acting skills.

She was such a drama queen, he sighed inwardly while watching his adopted parents fell for the crocodile tears. Even though, Fearless himself was of the same breed. If he was in the same situation, he would probably pull the same move.

“Those who play with knives must be prepared to get cut,” she said, “Those who play with fire must be prepared to get burnt. They did not think twice before hurting my brother. They should have no qualm of being at the receiving end of violence.”

Those words would become Fearless’ guiding compass for the rest of his life.

The grounding and the confiscation of her smart phone bored her to dead, “But it does not matter,” the demon goddess whispered into Fearless’ ears that night, “I still have you.”

If his adopted parents truly wanted to punish his sister, they had to separate him from her instead of her smart phone.

However, the docking of pocket money put both Fearless and her in a real bind. The rubbers and the contraception pills cost money. The way they dove into the rabbit hole and humped like rabbits every single day cost a lot of money. Not even Fearless’ bountiful sum of pocket money was enough to support it and his sister was not allowed to have past time job until her second year in college.

“Why not go backdoor?” she suggested. That changed everything.

Fearless, 15 years old at that time, had learned something weird that day.” You can use the backdoor.”

His sister was an insane bitch, a manipulative, possessive, jealous and abusive bitch. And yet, Fearless loves her still.

Love disregards good or bad, the beautiful or the ugly, right or wrong. Love is love.

Love is weird and ever confusing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“What is love? Baby, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me no more.”

“What the fuck is he singing about?” the younger bandit asked, panicked.

“How the fuck do I know?” the older bandit retorted and put his prize down on the floor, watching his prize singing in its sleep with widened eyes.

“Baby, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me no more.”

The creature sang a song in some sort of foreign tongue, probably elven. He really struck gold, Croaky thought, he really managed to catch himself an elf. He would be rich after this.

Croaky tore a piece of the creature’s robe and balled it, “This should shut him up. Can’t allow him to attract attention.” The older bandit commented and the younger bandit nodded his head.

“What is love?”

Croaky inserted the rag ball into the creature’s mouth, shutting it up.

“Mmmmm.” Though, the creature persisted to sing with muffled sound.

“That’s better,” the younger bandit said and the two bandits put the broken magic staff on their shoulders again, bringing their prize back to the base.

“Mmmmmmmm.”

“God damn it. He’s persistent.”

“Mmmmmmm”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The highlights in ROC were generally divided into two types, named and unnamed.

The unnamed highlights were the average highlights of the week or highlights of the month, showing a brilliant play during a match and bearing no greater significance.

The named ones were however immortalized within the heart and mind of the community forever. They could be the most brilliant of plays and execution or a sudden collapse during the most important hour. They represented the intensity, the competiveness and the chaos that was Reign of Chaos.

Throughout his career, Fearless stacked up a staggering list of highlights, both named and unnamed. His fans did not call him the “walking highlight reel” or “half man half amazing” for nothing. It was the result of his high risk high reward play style and the kind of playable warlords which he favored.

One of his greatest highlights was “The Play,” the moment when Fearless forced the super AI bot Heavennet into a base race and defeated it on a biggest stage.

Other than that, there was also the “Fuck The Bitch has done it again” or “What a tragedy” or “Some man just loved to watch the world burned” to name a few. Those highlight plays were named by the community, taking a specific phrase of the broadcast in that very moment to name the highlight.

Other than those, Fearless also stacked up a list of his infamous highlights.

Among those infamous highlights, there were three that stood out the most.

They were remembered by the fans and the community as the “Great Collapse”, the “Walkaway” and the “445”. They were like the dark history page that Fearless wished that they did not exist. They were Fearless’ infamous three.

The “Great Collapse” happened during the last match Fearless played in his second year in the ROC World Cup. He fumbled during the last minute and the entire team received a game over because of that.

The “Walkaway” happened during the preliminary of the fifth ROC world cup that Fearless attended, playing against IYF- In Your Face. It belonged to the dark page of history of Fearless for a variety of reasons.

One of the reasons was the bizarreness of how it happened.

Three hours before the match began; Fearless and the rest of The Alliance were trying to get their breakfast. The hotel they stayed ran into a bit of a problem and could not serve the breakfast as the result. Fearless and his guys had no choice but to walk down the street and hopefully nabbed something before their match began. They should have left that job to their manager, however, their team owner for better or worse decided to fire the old manager just one week before the ROC world cup and, as the result, Fearless and the team were pretty much on their own for most part.

It was like a chain of misfortunate events.

Then, Fantasy spotted a kebab truck parking in the area. It looked great, the meat looked juicy great and the smell of the kebab made Fearless and everyone gulped their saliva, mouthwatering.

So they got into the line and bought the kebab. The Kebab was great. It tasted great. Everything was great until they played the fifteen minutes into the match against IYF.

All sound was lost to him in that moment. Fearless could not tell what FY and anyone else was talking about. Fearless never felt the need to hit the restroom like that in his entire life. He was literally dying on his seat. He focused all of his attention to control the muscle of his butt hole and his stomach.

That control was shaken until he heard a farting sound popped inside the game booth. He had no idea whose that was.

“Let’s put an end to this match,” FY immediately delivered the most motivational speech of his career, short, concise and simply inspirational. He took out the entire dwarven army under his control and sent them charging toward their opponents.

Fantasy brought out his elven warlord and the entire army he built up to that moment. Misery sent his ragtag of bandits and pirates. Merleon sent the Naga and Fearless sent out his entire dark elf force.

The opponents were confused. Their players were confused. Their team captain was confused. Even their coach and their analytic staffs were confused. IYF’s coach and their analytic staffs were one of the best supporting cast any team could have within the pro-league of ROC, and yet, they could only clutch their head haplessly in front of such incomprehensible move from Fearless and his guys.

Of course they would, because they could not make out any sense from that kind of mass suicide attack The Alliance was throwing at them.

The team lineup and composition of The Alliance was meant to be defensive and their plan was meant to drag the game into the one hour mark. Yet, the strategy employed by Fearless and The Alliance was the opposite. Furthermore, they brought out their warlords to that suicide attack.

Warlord was not meant to participate in suicide attack because when a player’s warlord is killed in the battlefield, it is game over.

It made no sense to IYF, of course, because there was none to begin with.

Fearless and his guys were ready to throw that match and believed that they could make it up with their matches later on.

IYF could only react accordingly to the threats Fearless and his teammates tossed at them.

Misery led the attack with his ragtag force of pirate and bandits. He was way ahead of everyone. He did not wait for FY’s or Fearless’ force to arrive to perform a coordinate attack. He sent his force straight into the jaws of the opponent’s vanguard.

Of course, he got wiped. It was almost an instant game over for him. His warlord was killed as soon as the battle started.

The very moment he got a game over, Misery stood up from his seat and immediately ran out of the game booth without leaving so much of a word. He left the game booth with the speed of a man leaving a crime scene, that fucking traitor.

With a friend like that, who need enemies?

The TV crew was confused, the broadcasters were confused and even the fans were clutching their head, extremely confused. They had no idea what’s going on, nobody did.

After that, Fantasy spurred his army into the heart of the coalition of the opposing team’s army like a moth to a flame. His magic casters charged right into the front of IYF’s main camp as if they were heavy cavalry, locking in a melee with spearmen of IYF. His archer units took on a full cavalry charge from IYF’s team captain. However, he at least put up a fight unlike Misery. Somehow, he managed to bait one warlord of IYF to make an early undesired appearance on the battlefield.

Fearless and Merleon did not miss the chance. Both the Naga and the dark elf were especially good in sniping generals and warlords. Merleon set loose his Naga archer and Fearless sent his dark elf mount archer to make quick work of that warlord of IYF.

Fantasy stood up and ran out of the booth as soon as his screen flashed a game over, never to return, adding more confusion to everyone on the stage, everyone except The Alliance themselves.

The score was four to three.

After that, Merleon’s Naga force took the brunt of IYF’s retaliation to defend Fearless’ force. That was not supposed to happen. Fearless could only curse himself for not realizing he could do that.

Had Fearless known that he could do that, he could save himself from the followed tragedy.

Merleon’s force lasted only two minutes against the punishment IYF dished out. He left the game booth five seconds before he received the game over.

The score became four to two.

During that utter chaos, FY thrust his dwarven army into that giant mess like a freight train without brake. That would become FY’s worst decision in that match. He should not have done it.

His dwarven cavalry wiped three armies off the map with the covering fire of Fearless’ mounted archer.

It was a most brilliant move. The broadcasters screamed and the fans erupted during that play, of course, neither Fearless nor FY heard any of that.

That was a brilliant move under the any circumstance except the one Fearless and FY had. IYF was left with a single army of their team captain to defend their four players’ camps.

The score was four to two still. Fearless and FY could not get another warlord of IYF despite the number of officers they killed and captured during that confrontation.

IYF’s players quickly retreated to their own camps, taking a no-attack and full-defense approach. It was then Fearless and FY realized the mistake they made. They should have used that chaos to allow their army to be crushed by IYF and exited the game booth in the similar fashion as the rest of the team.

Fearless cursed his own brilliance just as FY did. Fearless could not believe that he could come out on top of that confrontation, even though, his head was pretty much blank due to the level of focus and discipline he put into the control of his butt hole.

“Fuck,” that word left their mouth at the same time, incurred a small $800 fine for each of them at a later time since it was not an international televised match.

Without telling each other a single word, Fearless and FY went after the army of IYF team captain and ignored the rabble rebuilding armies of the other three.

They had to suicide as quickly as they can. Fearless did not know about FY but he could feel his limit was approaching at that time. They could not afford to siege IYF’s camps one by one.

That fucking bastard, Fearless gritted his teeth as his body drenched in sweats. IYF team captain maneuvered his army to avoid direct confrontation with the combined army of FY and Fearless. That was the most logical move, of course, any sensible ROC player would do that.

“Chết mất. Chết mất. Chết mất. Chết mất. Chết mất.” Fearless mumbled the phrase over and over again into his headset as he had no mean to catch up with that elusive army of IYF team captain. He felt like he was blanking out and soiling his pants at any moment. He was taking the word “endurance” to a whole new level at that point.

Never in his life had he wished to have his beloved witches with him as that moment. Those ladies had the best mobility within the game just as the dragoons. However, IYF had the first ban that day. They banned The Alliance from picking the witch faction, effectively preventing Fearless from picking his best warlord and army.

“Chết mất” can be loosely translated as “Literally dying” in Vietnamese.

Somehow, the broadcasters and the spectators misheard “Chết mất” as “Checkmate” as they watched Fearless and FY decided to take the worst option and the only option in their hands at that moment. What’s more shameful is that even the Vietnamese fans of The Alliance have misheard that as well.

Everybody who watched that game believed that this scenario was the end game that The Alliance had in mind when they employed that mass suicide attack. The phrase “Chết mất” that came out of Fearless’ mouth somehow gave meaning to the biggest match-thrown in the history of the ROC pro-league.

FY and Fearless sieged IYF team captain’s main camp to force his army to return and defend his camp. His warlord was stuck inside the main camp. If the siege succeeded, it would be a game over for him.

FY’s dwarven army was good for sieging unlike Fearless’ dark elves. With that knowledge in mind, the two of them hoped that they would apply enough pressure for IYF team captain to bring back his force and defend his camp and maybe, the rest of IYF would bring their rabble army as well to lift with the siege.

Fearless needed to suicide and so did FY, as fast as they can.

Thankfully, IYF responded exactly as FY and Fearless have predicted. Their team captain hurried his army to return home to face the combined army of FY and Fearless. Two of IYF’s players sent out their warlord as the general of their rabble army as reinforcement to lift the siege. The remained player of IYF sent out small rebuilding army to raid both FY and Fearless’ empty camp, applying pressure on Fearless and FY, hoping that the two of them would end the siege.

Except, the word “Defend” was already wiped out of Fearless’ dictionary at that point. He had no idea what’s that even meant.

“Chết mất,” and “Suicide” were the only things in his mind. His entire body was trembling like a hapless lamb that was sent to a butcher house. He was literally dying in his own seat. He has reached his limit a long time ago. The only thing that kept Fearless going was his will and his meager pride. He had no wish to soil himself in front of millions of people.

Wordlessly, Fearless and FY stopped the siege in perfect harmony, sending their army to face the combined army of IYF. Fearless rushed his dark elves mounted archers ahead of FY’s dwarven force to meet IYF’s combined army, using the little advantage in mobility the dark elves had over the dwarves.

That was the ultimate betrayal. It was betrayal, betrayal as betrayal is. FY could only roll his bloodshot eyes and spurred his force to follow.

A single cavalry charge from IYF’s team captain army would have given Fearless a game over. And yet, that dickhead bastard suspected Fearless’ play to be a trap, saving that cavalry charge for FY’s army. He split his force into two to deal with Fearless and FY separately.

It was a grave mistake from the broadcasters’ perspective. That was a bad call. That was a terrible decision. That was a fumble. However, at that point, neither team realized that.

Fearless cursed that dickhead bastard for needlessly lengthen the match. He hissed sharply and sent his entire force into a melee with three armies. He just wanted to have his warlord killed, nothing else.

His dark elves took on magic casters, spearmen, footmen, horsemen and whatever IYF threw at him. Fearless’ head was basically blank at this point. He allowed his opponents to do whatever they wanted to his army. The moment they formed a circle around his force, Fearless could already see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And yet, FY appeared with his dwarven cavalry. It was like a replication of that scene where the Rohirrim cavalry made their appearance at the end of the movie Lords of the Rings: The Return of the King.

“Fuck,” Fearless cursed and turned his head to look at FY.

Tears streamed out of FY’s bloodshot eyes, “We are brothers, aren’t we?” His body was shaken like a leaf in front of a storm. A broken smile spread on his lips.

The people who watched that scene literally interpreted FY’s shaking as excitement. If only they knew…

“Fuck.”

In that moment, Fearless had no fucking idea of how FY could have done that. He thought that FY was still locked in a melee with IYF team captain. He had no spare brain power at that point to make an educated guess of the result of the collision between a human light cavalry against a heavy dwarven cavalry would be.

“Fuck.” That was “Et tu, Brute.”

"Fuck." That was the sound of a broken man who has come to a realization that he had to pay a price for his betrayal.

“Those who play with knives must be prepared to get cut. Those who play with fire must be prepared to get burnt.” That broken man remembered his sister’s words.

This was his karma.

Fearless cursed. His eyes were awash with tears.

People interpreted the tears in the eyes of Fearless and FY came from their beautiful friendship and their mutual trust. Little did they know…

“Fuck.” That was the “Forth Eorlingas!” version of The Alliance. That was the horn that signaled the cavalry charge.

“Fuck,” that was the war cries of Fearless and FY against their mortal enemies that threatened to come out of their asses at any moment.

“Fuck,” Fearless screamed, button smashing, killed two warlords of IYF in that chaos as FY was wiping out their army with a single charge of his dwarven cavalry.

“Fuck,” that was their victory cries when the only two warlords remained on that battlefield were theirs. Their suicide attempt was botched.

“Fuck,” that was the realization that the only ways they could put an end to that game was to siege the two remained camps of IYF or literally type “GG” and forfeited the match.

“Fuck,” that was the despair of two broken men made when they spurred their army to siege the fuck out of the main camp of IYF’s team captain. They were manically laughing as tears washed their cheeks.

“Fuck.” One simple word and yet, it could mean literally anything. How wonderful!

Suddenly, the true cavalry arrived. The “GG” message appeared on the screen. IYF has surrendered.

“Fuck,” that was the sound made by two broken men who got stuck on the door of the game booth because they tried to escape the room at the same time. They were both intelligent men who had been reduced to brainless blokes. They were brothers who had betrayed each other.

FY ran with the speed of Usain Bolt and escaped the scene. Fearless did the same, disappeared from the stage in a similar manner.

The arena was left in utter confusion. Nobody could tell what happened to the entire roster of The Alliance. Nobody could make any sense from that empty stage. The winners left the stage without waving to the audience or shaking hand with the losing team.

That day, the pro-league of ROC recorded the second weirdest match in their history.

Later when the press and the media approached The Alliance to question their most controversial match yet, “Family issue” was the only answer FY gave them.

But “Whose family?” they asked.

“No comment. Please give some respect to our privacy in this matter. We don’t wish to make this matter bigger than it has already been.”

The storm of speculations around that weird match would go on and on for half a year until people was tired of discussing it. As for The Alliance, that match was buried down the darkest page of their history, to be forgotten. Yet, the community and the pro-league of ROC would not allow that.

They immortalized that match in their own ways.

The fans would make clips with titles like “Greatest match of all time” or “The Greatness of The Alliance” or “The best play in the history of ROC”… etc.

The league made a short document “The Walkaway” to immortalize that weirdest match in their history. They did not know that the weirdest match in their history would come in another seven years.

As for The Alliance, they learned that even though they had no need for a coach, they need a manager. A manager is vital for the team.