Chapter 63

“Bro, play it safe on top, why did Kai Nan get killed over the tower trying to fight the crocodile?”

The jungler finally couldn’t resist sending a question mark to top lane.

After playing this game for a while, he now deeply regretted choosing to specialize as a jungler in pro matches; in normal games it’s fine—everyone treats you like their adopted son, constantly shouting “Dad’s on top!” or “Bro has wandered half his life!”

But in pro matches? Teammates split jungle resources, call for the jungler when they’re losing lane, and dump the blame on him after a loss.

Damn it, it’s only four minutes—bottom lane already gave away two summoner spells and first blood, and top lane got solo-killed at level three.

What could a poor little prince possibly do?

Scold bottom lane?

Nah, bottom lane’s captain is MP—better to just roast top lane instead; after all, it’s normal for a jungler to scold the top laner.

Guess I’ll have to step in myself!

BLQG’s top laner sighed, “I was being careful—just now the Blind Monk forced a trade and drained my health, I had to flash out, and the crocodile’s level-three burst with red potion was just too high.”

He really wanted to retort to his own jungler: “How can you even ask me what happened on top? The Blind Monk already came up to top lane to mess around, yet your prince is just sitting idle in bottom lane—aren’t you the one with the skill gap?”

But the words stuck in his throat—he thought better of it and swallowed them down.

The situation was stronger than him—he was already at a disadvantage; if he dared complain to his “jungle dad,” the guy might just stop helping, and top lane would be trapped for good.

In fact, BLQG’s top laner’s inner complaints about the jungler weren’t entirely baseless.

In the early minutes, the rhythm was often controlled by the jungler; skilled junglers could even coordinate with laners to set up plays.

Just now, the Blind Monk had actively asked the crocodile to bait out his position to create an opening for a gank on top.

In contrast, the prince, even after seeing the enemy jungler appear on top, failed to apply pressure on bottom, didn’t invade the Blind Monk’s jungle to steal resources, and didn’t even consider ganking mid to help the Fiddlesticks and free up the card master.

Remember, Fiddlesticks didn’t have Cleanse, and the prince held an EQ combo—pairing it with the card master’s yellow card made it easy to land a skill combo.

Yet the moment Fiddlesticks slightly moved toward the upper river, BLQG’s prince seemed to lose all interest in mid lane.

From this perspective, the jungler’s skill gap was real.

Sometimes, less skilled junglers, once assigned to the jungle, face a common situation: while they’re still clearing camps, the enemy jungler has already ganked every lane, and even when teammates clearly made mistakes, they still blame the jungler—leaving you feeling deeply wronged.

In truth, it’s both right and wrong.

The laner who got ganked is naturally first to blame, but that doesn’t mean the inactive jungler is blameless.

Laners can’t avoid last-hitting minions, and once they’re forced to farm, they expose themselves to ganks.

When the enemy is aggressively ganking, the jungler must either focus on the opposite lane or secure team objectives as compensation—otherwise, just farming the jungle won’t make up for what the team lost during that time.

Besides, you’re a prince, not a Sword Saint—can you really save the world by farming the jungle for thirty minutes?

But just because BLQG couldn’t find an opening didn’t mean NXG would slow down.

“Damn, is this Blind Monk cursed? Doesn’t he have his own jungle? Why does he keep coming after me?”

“Like a sticky note—you can’t shake him off, and you can’t kill me.”

“Whoa, bros, he’s back again—can anyone help me in the jungle?”

“...”

The jungler who had just been mentally roasting top laner now got his own special treatment.

At five and a half minutes, after securing top lane advantage, the Blind Monk began invading the prince’s jungle.

The rock didn’t greedily chase minions—he just aimed to steal any camp he could hit and harass the prince whenever possible, moving around the jungle to pressure him.

For him, top lane advantage was already locked in, and Fiddlesticks in mid was also ahead; as long as he kept the prince from roaming to bottom and let the Ashe build momentum, it was a blue-side victory.

NXG’s players already had significantly higher raw skill than BLQG’s; now that the jungler’s position was essentially exposed and the jungle threat vanished, they could play without any fear of consequences.

This was nothing like the tactical clashes or disciplined domination fans had expected before the match.

NXG didn’t even need to try hard to beat BLQG.

First, Song Yuan on top simply handled a few minor wave-control details—the crocodile tanked the wave, holding the minions in the center while carrying Kai Nan, then after returning with boots and a long sword, began using vision-blocking techniques to repeatedly enter bushes and cancel Kai Nan’s auto-attack animation to trade health, slowly draining Kai Nan’s bar to half.

This time, he didn’t even need the jungler—once the crocodile hit level six, he baited out Kai Nan’s E, then chased him down mid-tower while exploiting the cooldown of Kai Nan’s E, securing another solo kill.

Less than seven minutes, top lane was already destroyed.

In mid lane, Yihan, though often overshadowed because his team captain was also a top-tier mid laner, had learned his fundamentals and details exceptionally well.

By five minutes, he had already landed over ten last-hits on the card master, and after hitting level six, he traded health aggressively to gain the lead, forcing BLQG’s mid laner back to base, then rushed to bottom lane to set the pace.

Seeing Fiddlesticks arrive, Xu Tao—who had a thousand hidden plans—pretended to fall back under tower, then instantly turned around and stunned the enemy Janna with a flash + R.

The Ashe tried to rescue, but was knocked high into the air by Pang’s pre-placed Q.

At that moment, Fiddlesticks landed a flawless QRW combo through the wall, effortlessly pulling BLQG’s duo together.

Double Kill!

【G!】

【Every lane is getting crushed—the skill gap is too huge.】

【No tactics needed—just raw power domination.】

【Who says there’s no strategy? Ignoring the Blind Monk’s opening setup and subsequent jungle pressure is still a strategy.】

【And Fiddlesticks’ clever roaming—Card Master was forced into rhythm by Fiddlesticks’ initiative—clearly showing the gap.】

Amid a flood of “GG” comments, a brutal massacre was unfolding on the battlefield.

Jiang Ming had expected this.

During the qualifiers, even against PE—the strongest team in the 2013 LPL—NXG had turned their opponents into bots; even without him on the roster now, they’d still easily dismantle BLQG, a team that couldn’t even qualify for the main event.

Right now, NXG was unstoppable in rhythm-setting, team fights, and overall strategy throughout the entire S3 era—as long as they didn’t face a lane monster who could outright destroy them in lane.