The sun hung low over Saint Marx College, casting long shadows across the small 5 v 5 field. A crowd of students had gathered, murmurs buzzing through the air like electric currents.
"Have you seen them play?" one whispered.
"They call themselves… the Shadow Kings," another replied, eyes wide. "And the ball owner? They say he's the King of the Field."
The murmurs were enough to send a shiver down the spines of first-years and newcomers alike. The Shadow Kings were not just feared; they were legendary on the Saint Marx Primary 5 v 5 field now they were playing in the first year Saint Marx College field.
Across the field, a nervous group of first-years, barely used to the school, huddled together. They weren't from Saint Marx Primary, and the learners who went to primary at the Saint Marx looked at them with disdain. Their faces were pale with uncertainty, their hands trembling slightly on their knees.
And then, with a whistle, the match began.
The ball snapped into motion, and immediately, the difference in skill became brutally obvious. Treasure, the ball owner and self-proclaimed King of the Field, controlled the center like a predator stalking prey. He barked orders, his sharp eyes scanning for weaknesses, every movement radiating arrogance.
But the real spectacle was Tsebo Maatla — The Academic. Though a newcomer, his skills were undeniable. With a flick of the ball over one defender's head, he spun past another with a slick nutmeg, leaving both defenders gaping. His control was flawless, his vision impeccable.
Tsebo didn't even hesitate. Spotting Treasure making a run into the box, he sent a perfect, precise pass that split the defense. Treasure met it cleanly and tapped it in with a calm, almost casual grace. Goal. 1-0.
The crowd gasped. Whispers erupted like wildfire:
"Did you see that pass?"
"Treasure scored again… and it was all thanks to The Academic!"
"Shadow Kings… they're unstoppable!"
The newcomers tried to mount a counterattack. The opposition center forward charged, desperate, swinging at the ball with all his might. But the Shadow Kings were a wall. Treasure anticipated the movement, but before he could reach it, a teammate,Tlapa Šoma also known as the Great Wall of China leapt forward, rising gracefully and heading the ball clear in a sudden burst of strength that seemed almost unnatural.
It seemed the Goalkeeper Arabeile also known as the Guardian Angel didnt even have to do anything her Tlapa would stop anything and anyone
Time ticked down, ten minutes passing like lightning. Every move the newcomers tried was effortlessly countered. Treasure weaved past defenders with a devilish grin, mocking every failed tackle and stumble. By the final whistle, the scoreline told the story: Shadow Kings 1 — Newcomers 0.
Treasure raised his chin, scanning the crowd with a smug expression. "Next!" he barked. His gaze fell on a boy standing at the edge of the field.
Bapala Modiri.
The whispers died as all eyes turned to him.
"Are you playing, or are you just going to watch?" Treasure asked, pointing directly at him.
Bapala swallowed hard, but a grin slowly spread across his face. "I'm playing," he said, his voice steady.
He started warming up, dribbling a nearby ball with casual ease. Around him, students began to whisper again, unsure who he was or what to expect. He didn't have a team yet, so he began picking random students from the sidelines, calling them over to join his team of five. Each student hesitated but eventually agreed, drawn in by Bapala's confidence and grin.
The field seemed to hold its breath. The next match was about to begin — and this time, Bapala would step onto it himself.