A Game of Chess III

The professor's voice echoed through the valley, enforcing a temporary ceasefire, but my focus remained locked on Jack. As the chaos ebbed for a moment, I couldn't help but reflect on the absurdity of his Gift. 

Nirvana Flames.

The ability to purify anything, leaving no trace that could be detected by anyone below Immortal-rank. Even the professor, as sharp as he was, had no way of accusing Jack directly. The landslide, Seol-ah's malfunctioning artifact—it all passed as an unfortunate series of events. 

Jack had planned it perfectly.

But as my heart raced, an idea sparked within me. Tentatively, I activated Soul Resonance My Gift was subtle, undetectable even to those as powerful as the Martial King, a figure whose strength rivaled the legends of old—Liam Kagu and the Heavenly Demon. No one could sense it unless I wanted them to.

So, I reached out.

Soul Resonance allowed me to access the abilities of others, and now, I focused on Jack. He was unaware, too caught up in his smirking confidence. As I tapped into his soul, I felt it—two distinct forces, like blazing suns. Nirvana Flames and Abyssal Flames. His two Gifts. Both equally devastating, both equally dangerous.

My breath caught. I could access them.

Since I had used Heaven's Descent Walk to save Seol-ah, I had a free slot, a rare opportunity to store an ability. The choice was obvious. Abyssal Flames was tempting, with its raw destructive power, but it came with a cost—it required black mana, something I couldn't use.

Nirvana Flames, then. 

Its power flowed into me, not as strong as Jack's, but potent enough. This could change everything. I could now purify without anyone sensing it, just like Jack had done moments ago.

A small, unnoticeable smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. 'This will be useful.'

"Let's go back, Jin," I said, my voice sounding more tired than I intended. Jin's eyes flickered with frustration, though he merely nodded. I didn't blame him. Our losses had been heavier than expected. Too heavy.

Jack. He had been watching over the valley himself. That wasn't part of my calculations. If Jin hadn't alerted me through the comms, I would've been locked in a battle with Serpentstone Academy, none the wiser. Seol-ah would have died. 

I glanced at her, still reeling from the near-miss. 'Another mistake avoided... barely.'

"Arthur?" Jin's voice pulled me back. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but there was something else too—doubt, maybe. I waved it away. There was no time for that.

As we turned back toward Mythos Academy, my mind raced. The situation had changed. Serpentstone's attack, timed so precisely, left a sour taste in my mouth. 

'How?'

There was one explanation, one academy that had been suspiciously quiet throughout the entire festival. Gravehold Academy. Their leader, Aaron Meriot, had stayed out of the major skirmishes. Waiting. Calculating. 

With Seol-ah eliminated and Starcrest weakened, Gravehold posed more of a threat than ever before. 

'Where will they move next?' I wondered. 'Frostspire has already fallen. Serpentstone is being dismantled as we speak. Slatemark remains untouched... for now. Starcrest is the only weak link left.'

"Jin, head back to Mythos. I've got something I need to handle." My tone was decisive, even though every part of me screamed for rest.

Jin frowned. "Arthur, you're pushing yourself—"

"I know," I cut him off, my eyes hardening as I turned to look toward the distant hills where Starcrest Academy's flag stood, fragile in its isolation. "I have to."

Jin didn't argue further. He gave a short nod before heading back toward our base, his frustration still visible. He didn't understand. No one really did. But that was fine. They didn't need to. 

'I'm fine. I have to be.'

But the truth was something else entirely, wasn't it? I was pushing myself past my limits, and I knew it. Luna's voice echoed through my mind like a soft, familiar presence.

'You're overdoing it, Arthur. You're not invincible.'

'I know,' I mentally responded, even though I didn't entirely believe it. But this was necessary. I had to push forward. I had to win. 

It wasn't a choice. It was my responsibility. 

'Right?'

Luna didn't answer that one. Maybe she didn't need to.

The path to Starcrest stretched ahead, and with each step, I felt the weight of my decisions pressing down on me, threatening to crush me beneath their impossible expectations. But that's the thing, isn't it? When everyone thinks you're the one holding everything together, you don't have the luxury of being wrong.

'Except when you are.'

No, I can't think like that. I'll push myself farther. I'll be the one who wins. Who survives.

I had to.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Starcrest Academy wouldn't fall easily, not even without Seol-ah. No, that was wishful thinking. They still had Ava Peng and Aria Gu. 

Aria Gu, in particular, was a formidable force—nearly as strong as Aaron Meriot himself. And while Starcrest had suffered losses during the clash in the valley, they weren't out of the fight. Their strength, though diminished, was not to be underestimated. It would be a tough battle for Gravehold Academy, one that could swing either way depending on the slightest shifts in the wind. 

Aaron Meriot wasn't delusional. He knew Gravehold had no chance of claiming one of the top two spots in this festival. Those were reserved for the titans—Slatemark and Mythos Academies. The only two academies with students who had reached Integration-rank. They were playing a different game altogether. 

But third place? That was a more realistic ambition. A scrap worth fighting for. And so, Aaron watched. He monitored every move Starcrest made, waiting for the right moment, the perfect opportunity to bring them down.

But even that required caution. Serpentstone Academy, though weaker in the grand scheme of things, had the potential to sneak ahead if Gravehold overextended itself. Aaron couldn't let that happen. 

That's why he didn't act immediately. He was patient, like a hunter waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When he saw Mythos Academy make its move against Frostspire, he knew the time was close. Mythos would attack first, weaken Frostspire, and in the chaos, Serpentstone would rush in, desperate for points.

That was the opening Aaron had been waiting for.

He alerted Serpentstone to the attack—just late enough. Too late for them to effectively prepare, but enough to provoke them into action. Serpentstone, in their desperation, would charge headlong into the fray against Mythos, hoping to seize an advantage. 

Of course, that was exactly what Aaron wanted. Serpentstone, outmatched and overconfident, would be crushed by Mythos. Then, with Frostspire already eliminated and Serpentstone dealt with, Gravehold could move in for the final blow against Starcrest. 

It was a gamble, a long shot, but it was the only path Gravehold had to securing third place. The top two were a battle for the gods, but third? Third was still up for grabs. And once Starcrest fell, Gravehold would take their place.

After that, Aaron would let the monsters—Slatemark and Mythos—tear each other apart. He had no desire to interfere with that war.

At least, that was the plan.