Chapter 24: Pieces of a Chessboard Needed to be Played Strategically

The room was filled with the quiet rustle of parchment as I sifted through the documents, each one a piece of the puzzle. I barely had to think about it. The patterns, the timing, the movements—it all unfolded in my mind with an ease that would seem impossible to most. But for me, it was as natural as breathing. Strategy had been my life, after all. In my past, I ruled not just by force but by intellect, by understanding the smallest details and how they connected to the larger picture. Now, sitting here in a boy's body, nothing had changed.

Mayer stood by the map, his eyes flicking from the documents to my face, his mind likely spinning as he tried to follow my reasoning. I didn't bother explaining it all to him. He wouldn't get it, not fully. This kind of thinking wasn't something you learned—it was something you either had or you didn't. And Mayer, for all his loyalty and competence, didn't have it.

But that was fine. He didn't need to.

"Tonight," I said, the word cutting through the silence like a blade.

Mayer blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Tonight, my lord?"

I didn't look up from the papers. "The next attack will be tonight. On the southern trade route. It's their most active area, and their movements have been too frequent not to notice. They strike in cycles, predictable if you know what to look for."

He stared at me, clearly trying to process what I was saying. "But the pattern... it's—"

"Impossible to figure out?" I finished for him, a hint of amusement creeping into my voice. "Perhaps for you. But I've seen this before, in different forms. Bandits aren't particularly creative. They think they're being clever, moving from one area to another to avoid detection, but they always return to the same spots. Humans are creatures of habit, even when they're trying not to be."

I glanced up, meeting Mayer's gaze. His eyes were wide, admiration flickering there like a newly lit flame. He didn't say it, but I could see the question forming in his mind: *How did he figure this out so quickly?*

Good. Let him wonder. Let him admire.

I stood up from the table, the papers slipping from my fingers and settling back onto the wood like fallen leaves. "We need to prepare. Have thirty foot soldiers ready by nightfall. That will be enough."

"Thirty, sir?" Mayer echoed, as if the number was too small to deal with the problem.

"More than enough," I replied, my tone leaving no room for doubt. "We're not looking for a confrontation. We're setting a trap."

Mayer nodded quickly, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that I'd uncovered the bandits' next move in a matter of minutes. What had seemed like an unsolvable enigma to the others—myself included, if I were still in their shoes—was nothing more than a simple puzzle to me. One I had solved with the same ease as tying a shoelace. It wasn't arrogance. It was just fact.

"Stop the trades in the south tonight," I continued, turning my back to the table as I walked toward the window. The evening light filtered through the stained glass, casting a faint glow over the room. "But not now. That would be too obvious. Wait until it's late, when the bandits are preparing to strike. Make sure word gets out that something's off. We'll let them believe they're walking into an easy heist."

"And then?" Mayer asked, his voice hesitant but filled with a growing respect.

"We send a decoy," I said, looking out the window as the sun began its slow descent. "A fake carriage. Fill it with worthless goods, something that won't matter if it's lost. When they take the bait, we'll catch them off guard. They'll be expecting light resistance, maybe a few guards if any. But instead, we'll have soldiers waiting in the shadows."

Mayer nodded again, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corner of his lips. I could see it now, the spark of admiration growing. To him, I was a boy, barely out of childhood. Yet here I was, orchestrating a plan with such precision, with such ease, that it left him in awe.

Good. Let him be in awe. Let him see what kind of mind he served.

In that moment, I could feel it—the weight of control settling around me like an old friend. I had been born for this. No, not born. Reborn. It didn't matter what body I was in, what age or form I took. I was Leon Winter, the mind that had once bent kingdoms to its will, and I was doing it again.

Mayer couldn't hide his admiration any longer. "You truly are… remarkable, Master Eliot."

I didn't respond right away. I didn't need to. Let him speak his praises. Let him build me up in his mind as something more than human, more than the boy I appeared to be. In the end, that's what I wanted. The higher they held me, the easier it would be to pull the strings.

After a long pause, I finally turned back to him. "Prepare everything, Mayer. Make sure the soldiers are in place, but don't draw attention to it. And remind them—no one moves until I give the signal."

"Yes, sir," Mayer replied, his voice filled with the kind of reverence one reserved for legends. He gave a quick bow before hurrying out of the room, no doubt already setting the wheels of my plan into motion.

I stood there for a moment longer, looking out at the estate grounds as the shadows grew longer. Tonight would be the beginning. The bandits thought they were playing their own game, moving pieces across a board they believed they controlled. But I had already seen the endgame, long before they even knew the match had started.

This wasn't about bandits, though. Not really. This was about power. Control. I wasn't just hunting down common thieves—I was sending a message. To the people of Ravenhood, to the other heads, to anyone who dared to question my authority.

Let them watch as I dismantled the problem in a single night. Let them see how effortlessly I moved the pieces.

Because this was only the beginning.

I left the study and made my way back through the halls of the estate, my mind already shifting to the next move, the next piece of the puzzle. There was always another step, another layer to uncover. The bandits were just a small part of a much larger game.

And I was going to win.

As I passed through the dimly lit corridors, I couldn't help but smirk. After all, it was the same as it had always been. People underestimated me, thought they could play their little games around me, hide their moves in the shadows. But they never realized, until it was too late, that I had already won.

Because in the end, that's what I was.

A king.

And kings don't play the game.

They rule it.