**Where Falling Leaves Whisper Stories Written In Silence by Ryn Jace Reed**
**Rise of the Banished She-Wolf**
**Chapter 76**
I found myself transfixed by the screen, an unsettling sensation coiling tightly in my chest. There was an unmistakable air of wrongness surrounding this tournament, a feeling that gnawed at my instincts. Yet, with Evelyn already deep in the fray, my options were limited to watching from a distance and wishing fervently that my instincts were misguided.
**Evelyn**
My heart raced, a wild drumbeat echoing in my ears as I guided my team into the arena for our second match of the day. The atmosphere was electric, charged with anticipation and tension. Across the virtual battlefield, the members of Venom Strike were already settled in, their monitors casting an eerie glow as the game’s start screen flickered to life.
“Listen closely to what I’ve said before,” I urged my team, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “We need to conserve our resources and play defensively for the first thirty minutes. They’ll wear themselves out trying to overwhelm us.”
Taylor nodded in agreement, a look of relief washing over his features after taking my herbal remedy. His confidence seemed to bloom anew. Arthur, on the other hand, fidgeted with his headset, anxiety etched across his face.
“What if they come at us hard right from the start?” Aileen piped up, her youthful face twisted in concern. At just sixteen, she seemed genuinely terrified of what our opponents might unleash.
“Then we adapt,” I replied, my tone calm and reassuring. “Trust me on this—this team is aggressive, but their tactics are predictable.”
As we settled into our respective positions, I caught Jackson’s glare from the Venom Strike setup. The silver markings on his neck had spread ominously since yesterday, now creeping toward his jawline like a sinister vine. His eyes burned with a fury that was impossible to ignore.
“This match, we will destroy you,” he mouthed silently, his lips forming the words with venomous intent.
In response, I offered him a small, confident smile, which only seemed to infuriate him further, a flicker of rage igniting in his eyes.
The countdown began, and within moments, we were thrust headlong into the chaotic embrace of the virtual battlefield. True to my expectations, Venom Strike launched an immediate, all-out assault, pouring their resources into a frenzied bid for early-game domination.
“Hold your positions,” I commanded through my headset, my voice firm and unwavering. “Let them waste their ammunition.”
For thirty long, grueling minutes, we held our defensive stance, ceding territory only when absolutely necessary, all the while preserving our core resources. The commentators, observing our unconventional strategy, speculated whether we were simply conceding the match.
“Evelyn, we’re down fifteen percent on map control,” Taylor reported, tension lacing his voice.


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