The cyan-robed guide gestured, summoning a holographic battlefield. "Combat Arena pits five players against another five. Choose your armor and weapons wisely—heavy plating slows movement, while light armor sacrifices defense."


    Ethan’s pulse quickened as scenes unfolded: arrows slicing through rain, javelins hurled with lethal precision, a titanic berserker bellowing challenges in a fog-drenched town.


    "True combat," Ethan murmured. "No safety protocols. No compromises."


    <hr>


    Combat Tiers


    <ul>


    <li>Stellar Rank: Novices (Base Combat Rating <150)</li>


    <li>Lunar Rank: BCR ≥150</li>


    <li>Solar Rank: BCR ≥400</li>


    <li>Celestial Rank: BCR ≥1,000</li>


    </ul>


    "Advance through tier milestones or bypass them via Promotion Trials," the guide explained. "A BCR of 576 could leap directly to Solar with a successful trial."


    Ethan’s Combat Profile flashed:


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    <ul>


    <li>Player: Ethan Gray</li>


    <li>Protocol: Serpent Ascension (Novice 5%)</li>


    <li>Physical Index: 63</li>


    <li>Skills: Spearmanship (Tier II 71%), Footwork (Tier II 11%)</li>


    <li>BCR: 756</li>


    </ul>


    "Global top-ten spearman… only Tier II?" Ethan scowled.


    "Skill tiers reflect实战 mastery," the guide said. "Evolution amplifies potential, but the technique requires bloodshed."


    <hr>


    Luna’s Island Sanctuary


    Ethan materialized on a sun-kissed atoll. Luna twirled barefoot in the surf, her villa shimmering coral-white.


    "Ten grand for this slice of paradise," she grinned. "But you’re missing the real spectacle."


    She pulled up a live feed: snowy tundras where shieldmaidens parried axes, their blades kissing throats in pixel-perfect lethality.


    "Combat streams are rewriting entertainment," a lecturer’s hologram droned elsewhere. "Education, concerts—all reimagined here."


    Ethan zoomed a duel—steel clashing centimeters from his virtual eyes. "This… this is art."


    <hr>


    Dawn of a New Combat Era


    As night fell in the real world, Ethan returned to the canyon. The Serpent Protocol’s sinuous forms flowed through him, muscles memorizing alien geometries.


    Somewhere, a rookie fumbled a javelin throw. A streamer’s axe split a dummy’s skull. A million battles raged—each death a lesson, each victory a step toward evolution.


    The guide watched silently. Let the games begin.