Atticus felt the aged man's glare on him but said nothing.
He had never cared about the status of his enemies. Anyone who ca after him, from an insignificant figure to so divine prince, would each face the sa fate. Death.
Still, he had never found it necessary to brag about his kills. He simply glanced away from the man, choosing to remain silent.
"Ho? You won't even deny it?" The willguard's eyes glowed brighter. "Good… good. Youngsters these days."
He stretched out his hand, and the die snapped into it.
"Do you know what the most important part of any conflict is?" he said calmly. "It isn't strength, nor talent. It's observation. Before you act, you watch. You watch how your foe moves, what they protect, what they hesitate over. Find that one weak point… and the rest follows naturally."
Atticus fixed his eyes on the man's die as he threw it.
'Three.'
He felt the threat woven into the words and couldn't help but narrow his eyes. At this point, he would have to be stupid not to know what the man was aiming at.
'My champions.'
Though that wasn't fully accurate, Atticus wasn't focused on correcting himself. The threat felt imminent, not the sort spoken when retaliation was distant.
That was what unsettled him. He was sure none of the man's champions were close to his, so why—
Atticus' eyes snapped open.
'Not my champions!'
"Urgas, three movents to the left," the willguard said.
Atticus narrowed his eyes across the board, where the domain Anorah's champion stood abruptly lit up. The next mont, a willguard champion appeared on it, followed by a voice.
"This domain has already been claid. Do you choose to claim, or deny?"
Atticus curled his fists.
'He was watching .'
The man had been watching him since the mont he appeared on the board. Though he hadn't spoken directly to Anorah, he had clearly noticed their exchanged glances, the subtle nods, and understood the connection between them.
Despite everything, the aged man's eyes remained fixed on him.
The aning was unmistakable; this is your fault.
"I choose to claim."
"The domain restriction is forced movent in a random direction on the next turn. By choosing to claim, you agree to have this imposed on you?"
"Yes."
"Marquis Anorah. Do you accept, or would you like to contest the challenge?"
Anorah's eyes darkened. It was clear this wasn't a move she had anticipated.
"I choose—"
"Saint!"
Anorah frowned as her champion, Jenna, suddenly spoke. Jenna t her gaze with a determined look. "Let handle this."
Anorah's frown deepened as Jenna bowed.
"Please trust , Saint."
'She won't be able to refuse.'
As far as Atticus knew, Anorah had only gained two power points from her captured domains. He wasn't certain how many were required to contest a challenge, but it certainly wasn't one.
Spending everything just to avoid a challenge was ludicrous, especially when she had only just begun playing. Not only would it empty her reserves, it would announce weakness to the entire board.
Anorah's eyes abruptly went cold. Emotionless.
'She used Logoth,' he realized.
Only seconds passed before she spoke again.
"She'll fight."
The domain lit up with a golden light, and when it dimd, the white ground was gone, replaced by a vast, endless desert.
"Marquis Anorah has accepted the challenge. One mandatory power point each has been staked for this battle. The battle may start now."
Atticus, along with every other pair of eyes on the board, fixed on the battlefield.
'Can she win?'
It was a pointless thought. Though he didn't know Jenna personally, Atticus had never believed, not even for a mont, that she could defeat a willguard.
'She knows it too.'
Anorah's eyes were emotionless, but he didn't miss the clenched fists or the cold tension radiating from her. She was restless despite Logoth. She knew her champion, and she knew the danger a willguard posed. Still, there was no denying the most rational choice.
Though the rules allowed one to contest a challenge by wagering power points, the challenger could easily outbid with a higher stake. Anorah had only just entered the ga; her reserves couldn't possibly match the willguard's. Contesting would only bleed her dry for nothing.
Jenna knew this. That was why she had chosen to fight.
And that was why Anorah had chosen to use Logoth, to force herself to make the most logical decision.
The clash unfolded exactly as Atticus, and many others, had expected. Seconds in, Jenna rushed forward, intending to end it as quickly as possible, but the willguard canceled her will, encasing himself in armor. His counter was lethal, the blade tearing her apart.
Despite the sight, not a scream left Anorah's lips. Her smoldering eyes remained fixed on the aged willguard. If looks could kill, the man would have already been torn to pieces.
Atticus felt a heavy guilt settle in his chest, but he knew better than to show it. To do so would be an insult to Anorah, and to Jenna, who had just lost her life.
"Marquis Ordan has won the challenge and claid the territory."
'Ordan.'
So that was his na.
"How was the lesson?"
The man, Ordan's tone was calm, almost instructional, as though he were addressing a student rather than an enemy.
Atticus fixed his eyes on him in silence, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.
'Don't fall for it, Atticus.'
Whisker's voice echoed in his mind. The fact that he used his na told him just how serious this was.
'He's trying to get into your head. Judicators like operating this way.'
'I know.'
Atticus forcibly steadied his breathing. Despite everything, he didn't give the man the satisfaction of a response. Anything, even a glare, would be enough to suggest the lesson had landed.
'A Judicator.'
Whisker had suspected one when he learned the scale and reach of the bounty. According to him, only such beings could command will to such an impossible degree.
Yet Judicators were entities born in the Span.
Atticus found it difficult to imagine how one had descended all the way to the Verge. Had it all been to capture him?
'It doesn't matter.'
What mattered was the path forward.
The Judicator had observed him, uncovered his ties to Anorah and Ozerra, and used them as leverage, deliberately. Though Atticus wasn't one to falter under such tactics, the implication was obvious.
'Everyone will be after the sa thing.'
The eyes of many Marquis had shifted. His earlier declaration had already turned several against him, and now that a clear thod to hurt him had been revealed, their intentions were easy to predict.
User Comments
0 comments from readers