The moment their stream activated, Kaiden's face came into view on thousands of screens. Sarah, Leia, and Emilia were the first to react on their end with cheery smiles, accompanied by good wishes and heart emojis sent in the chat.

Behind them, the viewer count exploded upward in a blur of numbers, comments surging so fast the chat box practically vibrated. Their regulars, their lurkers, their die-hard fans… They all poured in at once, filling the feed with excited anticipation.

Kaiden's face welcomed them. "The competition is about to begin," he said with a calm, steady voice. "Valhalla's Sinners won't be focused on entertainment today. Our primary goals will be survival and ascension. Which means there will be no live commentary, and our focus will be entirely on winning the competition and leveling up. To that end, we'll be performing as professional awakened, so keep expectations in check."

Messages flew in response:

We get it! Go crush them!

Break a leg out there! Wait, not literally!

Don't look at chat even ONCE, Kai, I swear! PROTECT THE GIRLS!

VALHALLA RISES!

KAI-TEAM, LET'S GOOOO!

Their fanbase understood, and the chat's tone shifted as though collectively agreeing to behave. It was rare for a community as chaotic as Valhalla's Sinners - one that ranged from down-bad fangirls who worshiped Kaiden like a religion to turbo-haters who tuned in solely to seethe. The "hate-watchers," as they were mockingly called, usually sat like vultures waiting for the tiniest slip-up to clip and sneer at online.

Yet today, not a single one dared type anything reckless… not with all the moderators lurking in the shadows like apex predators. For weeks, a cold war had simmered between fangirls and jealous men, each side arming themselves with their own internet communities and report buttons like nuclear weapons.

And then it happened.

- XxThickThighsxX: hope one of the monsters cuck you lol

A digital silence fell. The kind of silence you could hear.

Every hate-watcher collectively slapped their forehead, which meant thousands of palms fired off like ammunition all across the globe. A millisecond later, a bright red line appeared in chat:

Kaiden's Wife has banned XxThickThighsxX.

Reason given by the moderator: Just because you are a failure of a man who can't find a mate that is willing to tolerate your miserable, insufferable existence, does not permit you to wish harm upon other, superior men.

Instant public execution.

In a small suburban room in São Paulo, a guy munched popcorn and exhaled through his nose. "Rookie mistake," he muttered, shaking his head at his screen like a disappointed uncle watching a toddler run into a glass door.

Meanwhile, in a cramped apartment in Mumbai, another hate-watcher cracked open a can of soda. "Fortune favors the brave," he said, kicking his feet up. "But not the stupid."

Across the world, in a quiet house in Munich, a third leaned back with his oversized beer mug. He took a slow sip before muttering, "Patience is a virtue, young padawan." The words were solemn, wise, like he was some monk of internet toxicity who had mastered self-control.

And scattered all across the globe, thousands of fangirls watched the chat with predatory intensity. Some were perched on their gaming chairs like hawks. Many had already warmed up their minds to report the moment anyone typed something like this, so that the mods had an easier job catching them all.

It was a cold war of the pettiest kind: invisible lines drawn, alliances forged, grudges nursed. The fangirls formed a polished, well-trained enforcement brigade. The haters acted like guerilla saboteurs operating behind enemy lines, speaking in hushed Discord calls about "timing their messages" like they were planning a heist. Every now and then, one of them slipped up like XxThickThighsxX and immediately became an example of what not to do.

The chat scrolled back into relatively wholesome chaos after the execution, but the tension remained. Everyone knew: another skirmish was inevitable. The war never ended. It only paused.

Kaiden nodded with a small smile upon seeing the positive messages. "The stream will also be delayed. We're broadcasting recorded footage so the competitors can't gather live intel on our routes or plans." He tapped a few holographic icons hovering near the lens. "There'll be about an hour-long buffer, which will be filled with a compilation of what the six of us believe to be our most memorable and important moments. Thank you for all the support."

With the stream safely masked, Kaiden turned to face his girls. "Check your artifacts. Make sure everything's green."

All five women lifted their wrists in response. Each wore the same metallic bracelet issued by the Association, a standard piece of equipment for the competition but still impressive in its sophistication.

The circular band hugged their skin with a smooth, rune-lined surface, and when activated, a holographic screen unfurled above the wrist.

It displayed a compact menu of vital information: team placement in the rankings, remaining guild participants, environmental hazard alerts, map overlays, and, most crucially, real-time monster readings. Red blips marked high-threat zones. Yellow signaled moderate activity. Green marked safe paths and cleared sectors.

The devices also kept a constant track of the wearer's position for the Association's monitoring network. Privacy wasn't exactly an option here, but in exchange, competitors were given data no sane person would reject. Precise monster densities. Estimated difficulty levels. Sub-zone warnings that could prevent an entire squad from walking blindly into a slaughter.

Each bracelet blinked with stable green indicators as Kaiden's girls confirmed functionality.

Luna flicked through the holographic interface with sharp, efficient motions. Aria adjusted her strap, ensuring it wouldn't shift mid-casting. Nyx ran a quick diagnostic with practiced ease. Calypso muttered a small curse as she fumbled around with the artifact due to having no experience with such screens.

Bastet simply gave a low hum of approval, then spent her time watching the demoness's struggles with the most satisfied, smug expression, feeling great superiority due to having mastered human technology interfaces, having done a lot of research on Kaiden's phone - meaning she played mobile games a lot while sunbathing.

Kaiden scanned the projected map that hovered above his palm. Bright red zones pulsed ominously across the northwest quadrant, indicating monster clusters above level ninety. Even the central fields showed numerous pockets of eighty-plus threats. He exhaled slowly. "As agreed: until we reach level 50, anything above level seventy-five means instant retreat. No heroics. No gambles. We pull out together."

The five nodded without hesitation, unified in their pragmatism. None of them were delusional. Not today. Not in a competition where every guild had sent monsters disguised as people.

Kaiden allowed himself one more long look at the map, studying the shifting danger patterns, then lowered his hand. "Good. We move."

Outside their cabin, the horns marking phase-one departure echoed across the valley.

The competition had begun.

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