The morning after Eclipse Shadows' second victory, the entire city of Aevallure hummed with a tension that could not be silenced. Merchants whispered it. Scholars debated it. The poor shouted it from rooftops.
"Can the Shadows really topple Celestials United?"
But far above mortal chatter, in the high towers of the Divine Football Organisation, the elders gathered. Their robes shimmered with golden crests—the marks of unbroken dynasties of power.
"The girl has won twice," one murmured, voice heavy with disdain. "She dances on the edge of legitimacy."
"Then we push her off," another hissed. "We pit them against Celestials United. No slum-born team could possibly—"
"—and yet," interrupted the eldest, eyes narrowed like blades, "we must also prepare. If she does succeed, we cannot allow her rise to destabilize our dominion and perfect league for the entitled we selected."
He raised his hand, and the chamber filled with a projection—a massive pyramid of glowing tiers. Twelve layers stretched skyward, each radiating authority.
"This," the elder intoned, "is the Pantheon League System. Our divine hierarchy of football. Each layer a crucible, each ascent a coronation."
The leagues shimmered into definition:
League 1 – Ashen Ranks (2,000,000 clubs)
The lowest crucible, where hopefuls claw for recognition. Newborn clubs fight to prove they deserve existence.
League 2 – Bronze Ascension (1,000,000 clubs)
Clubs who endured the Ashen fire. Rough edges polished, foundations tested.
League 3 – Silver Promise (500,000 clubs)
Where potential begins to gleam. Winners here taste real prestige for the first time.
And then the pyramid widened, impossibly vast:
League 4 – Emerald Vale (10,000 clubs)
League 5 – Sapphire Stride (10,000 clubs)
League 6 – Ruby Clash (10,000 clubs)
League 7 – Amethyst Glory (10,000 clubs)
League 8 – Onyx Legion (1,000 clubs)
League 9 – Obsidian Gate (100 clubs)
League 10 – Platinum Aether (20 clubs)
League 11 – Diamond Realm (20 clubs)
League 12 – Celestial Apex (20 clubs)
In total—over 3,500,000 clubs across the Divine Realms. Each league a warzone, each match a judgment, each ascent requiring not just skill, but survival.
The elder's voice rang like thunder.
"This pyramid is eternity itself. It crushes pretenders with broken talent, exalts conquerors, and ensures none may leap unjustly. Should the Eclipse Shadows secure legitimacy, they will not escape the Pantheon. They will begin at the bottom—Ashen Ranks."
The chamber trembled with approval. Some laughed cruelly. Others remained silent, eyes narrowed in unease.
"But," whispered the eldest, "should she survive long enough to ascend... she could reach even here. The Celestial Apex. The throne of the gods."
That night, in the Void Pitch, the constellations shifted. No longer formations of 4-4-2 or 3-5-2. Instead, the stars arranged themselves into the glowing pyramid Joan had seen only in rumors.
Her heart pounded.
"The Pantheon System..." she murmured.
The system's voice rang in her ears:
[Notification: Divine League System Unveiled.]
[Access: 12-League Pantheon.]
[Mandatory Rule: All recognised clubs must enter and climb.]
[Eclipse Shadows' Destination: Ashen Ranks (League 1).]
Joan stared in silence. 3.5 million clubs. 2.999 million rivals. 2.999 million mountains to climb.
Her players gathered, faces pale. Kai's fists clenched. "Coach... how can we... how can we beat that many?"
Joan exhaled, slow and steady, then smiled with razor determination.
"One at a time. Always one at a time."
Match day.
Eclipse Shadows doesn't have the home advantage. Everyone believed they have yet to establish their stadium.
The match was unlike anything the Shadows had seen. Celestials United descended onto the pitch clad in uniforms that shimmered with divine starlight. Each of their players carried an aura so overwhelming it made the crowd bow in reverence.
"They're not just players," Mila whispered, trembling. "They're... avatars."
The opening whistle blew, and the Celestials immediately dominated. Their passes were not kicks, but prophecies—as if the ball already knew where it must arrive. Their captain, Seraphiel, moved like a comet—unstoppable, divine.
Within fifteen minutes, the Shadows were down 2–0.
The crowd jeered. "The slum miracle ends here!"
"Back to the dirt where you belong!"
But her talent shown, Joan had seen something. Celestials United were predictable. Perfect, yes. But perfection was a pattern, and patterns could be broken.
At halftime, she gathered her broken, battered squad.
"They think we can't fight stars. But stars... cast shadows."
Her eyes blazed. "So become their eclipse."
The second half began, and the Shadows changed. They stopped trying to match the Celestials' rhythm. Instead, they disrupted it. Rook sprinted wildly, dragging defenders out of position. The twins executed chaotic feints that forced divine midfielders to hesitate. Kai abandoned order, weaving through chaos like smoke.
And Mila... Mila waited. He stalked the pitch like a predator unseen.
In the 70th minute, the opportunity came. A misstep. A single hesitation forced by Rook's madness. Kai pounced, splitting the gap, then unleashed a desperate pass into space.
Mila struck.
His shot bent—not like a mortal strike, but like a shadow swallowing light. The divine keeper lunged, fingertips brushing... and missed.
GOAL.
2–1.
The stadium froze. Commentators paused.
And then, in the 85th minute, it happened again. The Celestials pressed forward arrogantly, certain of their inevitable third. But Zara, bruised and unyielding, stole the ball with a bone-shattering tackle. He hurled it forward—straight into Kai's path.
Kai didn't dribble. Didn't hesitate. He volleyed mid-run, a strike so raw it tore through the night.
GOAL.
2–2.
The crowd erupted. Chaos. Screams. Half disbelief, half awe.
The final whistle blew.
Celestials United 2 – Eclipse Shadows 2.
A draw.
The Organisation moved instantly to deny them. "A draw is not a victory!" they roared. But the bylaws were ironclad: three sanctioned matches without defeat.
Victory, victory, draw.
Eclipse Shadows had done it.
[System Notification]
[Ding! Condition Met: Three Matches Unbeaten.]
[Recognition Granted: Eclipse Shadows registered as an official club.]
[Placement: Ashen Ranks (League 1).]
[New Path Unlocked: Pantheon League Ascent.]
[Fan Base Explosion: +50,000 supporters. Total: 53,639.]
The entire realm felt the tremor. A slum-born club, legitimate. The pyramid had opened its maw, and the Shadows had stepped inside.
League 1 was unlike anything they had faced before. Two millions of clubs, each desperate, each clawing for survival.
...
The league matches were fixed. Joan have spotted her opponents. The first was Ironbreak Juniors, infamous for their steel-hard defense. Then came Howling Wolves, whose striker was rumored to have been trained by a fallen demigod. Then the Silver Talons, a lesser branch of the very Golden Talons the Shadows had slain in their debut.
And above them all... over 1.999 million rivals sharpening claws for blood. 1 million of these clubs will relegate and their clubs will cease to exist or start afresh.
The schedule was brutal. Matches every three days. No rest. Injuries inevitable.
But Joan stood unflinching. "This is what we wanted. This is where legends are made."
From league 1—Ashen Ranks - league 3—Silver Promise. It's survival for new football clubs.
Beyond, whispers carried news of the upper Pantheon.
League 4—Emerald Vale - league 6—Ruby Clash, where 10,000 clubs clashed in endless cycles. Matches there lasted weeks, entire tournaments waged like wars. Survivors ascended, losers demoted with forever shame.
In such league, Joan must forge her pitch warriors.
League 7—Amethyst Glory - league 11—Diamond Realm where the Organisation's pet prodigies dominated, sculpted since birth with divine talents.
Joan would have reforged her players into deities that create or bend all known universe laws.
League 12—Celestial Apex, the throne. Only 20 clubs. Extremely terrifying... And from those, only one held the crown—the Supreme Club, worshipped across all realms.
For Joan, it was no longer enough to survive. She had glimpsed the pyramid. She would climb it.
Her broken X-grade talent pulsed again.
Repair Progress: 2.7%.
Each match, each roar of the crowd, each believer—they were healing her. Piece by piece, she was reforging destiny itself.
On the eve of their first Pantheon match, Joan gathered her players in the Void Pitch. The pitch that will welcome rivals in the near future.
"Look around you," she said. "Over 2.999 million clubs stand between us and the top. Over 2.999 million giants who think we're ants to be crushed."
She raised her hand, pointing to the phantom pyramid glittering above.
"But ants become swarms. Shadows blot out suns. We don't stop at legitimacy. We don't stop at League One. We climb."
Her players' eyes burned. Kai slammed his fist into his palm. Mila's lips curved into a grin. Zara's stone face cracked with determination.
Together, they roared:
"WE ARE THE ECLIPSE SHADOWS!"
And the Void Pitch pulsed in answer, constellations aligning as if the very cosmos had acknowledged their oath.
The 12-League Pantheon had opened its gates.
The war of millions of clubs had begun.
And in the deepest dark, the Shadows were rising.