Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: It Was a Good Game
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"Take white. I'll play black."
"No need for that."
"Are you sure? The stakes are quite high..."
"It's not that much money."
"...Very well. In that case, I'll take the first move."
What image comes to mind when you think of a battle of wits?
The scenes of wits battles in media usually go something like this.
A genius—usually the protagonist, of course—turns the tables with one brilliant move.
If we're using chess as an example, it's something like this.
A situation where the opponent has overwhelmingly more pieces.
From there, the protagonist tosses out a line like, "This game is already mine," and moves a few pieces.
Then, with a rotten smirk, they say,
"Checkmate."
The opponent stares in disbelief, spouting lines like, "I lost in this advantageous position? Impossible!" and loses it,
while the spectators chime in with "How could there be such a move?!" or "An astonishing master...!" to hype up the protagonist's genius.
But that's just dramatic flair for the screen.
Real wits battles unfold in a cold, dry manner.
With a limited number of possible moves, you calculate them all and seal off your opponent's options.
Chess, among ancient board games, stands out in this regard,
because the number of moves available to players is far fewer than in games like Go.
You can tell from how, when AI emerged, Go managed at least one win somehow, but no one beat chess.
Chess is a game of thorough calculation.
And those calculations have been studied and turned into a kind of playbook.
Someone who memorized the playbook has the edge over a quick thinker.
Of course, no such playbook exists in this world.
I let out a wry smile inwardly.
'Who would've thought my first gain from isekai reincarnation would be chess.'
It was old news by now, but I'd played chess quite a bit back then.
A little deeper than just casually saying "I've played chess."
Enough to enjoy rated games, even.
Honestly, my rating wasn't that high—
but it was enough to blow minds here when I first touched a board and got called a prodigy.
This world had no established openings passed down like gospel.
Sure, there were some basic frameworks, but with so few players, it was inevitable.
And no internet to boot.
So I'd even fantasized, 'Am I some isekai protagonist spreading culture?!'
Naturally, I wasn't.
Still, thanks to that, I could fully enjoy my "isekai reincarnator perk" when it came to chess.
I chuckled inwardly as I eyed Nicholas's first move.
'Irregular opening, huh. I half-expected it, but there it is.'
Irregular opening.
This refers to white's first moves that rarely see play in serious chess, and they usually lead to bad positions.
The game's opening has far fewer possibilities than later stages, all thoroughly studied.
Tastes vary, but naturally, openings with higher win rates are preferred.
In other words, unless it's a pro match, an irregular opening is likely just a bad move.
I could confirm it from the moves that followed.
'Tactics are decent enough, but strategy is sloppy.'
There must be a reason he'd won streak after streak in betting games.
His knight handling was sharp.
But he got too fixated on disrupting my lines with it, leaving his other pieces lagging.
I checked his knight with a pawn and quickly castled.
Suddenly, his knight—poised to threaten beyond my lines—hung in the air.
"Hm...?"
Nicholas's expression shifted, sensing something ominous.
He rushed to develop his other pieces, but my faster-advancing forces kept blocking him.
"...!"
Only then did he seem to grasp how the position had turned.
His eyes darted frantically for a way out, but he was already crushed tactically.
The onlookers caught on too, starting to murmur.
"He's in a bad spot? The mage is getting pushed?"
"He's been winning every game so far? Already?"
Nicholas gritted his teeth amid the growing buzz and played his next move.
But in this meticulously woven net, there was no miracle reversal.
He could only be slowly crushed by my advancing pieces.
Finally accepting it, Nicholas spoke in a dazed tone.
"...I lost."
"It was a good game."
A concession just as the opening wrapped up.
A hollow end without a single check left stunned silence around the table.
Nicholas accepted his defeat cleanly.
But trouble brewed afterward—because this wasn't just chess; it was a betting game.
The rule: If Nicholas won, he'd provide magic equal to the stakes.
So the problem was...
"...That's, uh, quite a sum."
The stakes were too high.
Too much to pay off with magic alone.
Nicholas counted the coins in his pouch, his face darkening with each one.
It looked like a lot at a glance, but apparently even more than he'd thought.
Honestly, I hadn't counted either, so I asked casually.
"How much?"
"Forty-two gold coins in total."
Hm, yeah, that's a lot.
Enough to hire a magic tower graduate for months.
But he's a street mage.
A few months' employment wouldn't settle the debt.
'Unless he's some runaway mage from the tower or something.'
Even then, considering his age... it'd be iffy.
Of course, it's not impossible.
Just extend the term to match the value.
Roughly until I graduate the academy, on standby whenever I say "magic" and cast it for me—that might cover it.
But instead of agreeing, Nicholas sighed deeply and said,
"At this point, I suppose I should grant you a wish. What spell do you need?"
"You'll cast whatever I ask?"
"Yes. Anything within imperial law and basic ethics."
I stared at him, eyes questioning if he was serious.
But he met my gaze with unflinching resolve.
I was impressed inwardly.
'Really gonna pay it off with one spell?'
Rumors said as much.
No matter the stakes, one spell settled it.
No fights afterward, so it must've been fair.
'Never a bet this big, though.'
This one was different.
Forty-two gold coins.
Not pocket change even for nobles.
And he'd cover it with one spell?
Normally, you'd rage "Don't talk nonsense" or demand something impossible.
But I felt a surge of liking for him instead.
'Guy's got guts.'
Whether he had the skill, who knows—
but pushing his principles like that? I respected it.
So I said,
"Let's call this bet off."
"Pardon? What do you—"
"I don't need any magic right now."
I'd saved it as a reserve for potential future needs.
Better to build long-term rapport than demand stuff now.
So I cut him off before he could argue and changed the subject.
"More importantly, your knight play was solid. Ever studied chess formally?"
"No. Just self-taught..."
"Self-taught? Impressive. With proper training, you'd get strong."
Want another game? No bet this time.
Nicholas eyed my offer with an inscrutable look, then nodded.
I smiled inwardly at that.
'Good, reserve ally secured.'
Nothing beats shared hobbies for bonding.
Nicholas and I immersed ourselves in chess for a while.
Nicholas sorted the pieces, his mind a whirlwind of confusion.
Everything was unfolding beyond his expectations.
He hadn't anticipated this when he first took the job.
"Go see the Little Iron-Blooded yourself. Judge what kind of man he is with your own eyes."
The Magic Tower Lord's order: observe Dominica's third son, the "Little Iron-Blooded," in person.
Not an odd command.
Info on the empire's three grand duchies was valuable even to the tower.
They needed facts, not rumors.
And Nicholas was the perfect age for academy enrollment.
So he'd waited as the "betting mage"—a cover identity crafted by the tower—
only to nearly blow it immediately.
The Little Iron-Blooded had raised the stakes too high.
'Crazy, how much is that?'
Over two digits in gold, by eye!
Way too much for his "skilled but tower-rejected" persona.
It was meant to lower the kid's guard,
but now that setting was tripping him up.
'Told them not to add weird backstory and just go straight—'
Wallowing in dismay, a grim thought hit him.
'Did he see through my identity?'
He could hardly believe his own suspicion.
No matter how fearsome a grand duchy’s intel, the tower had hidden him well.
No way it'd unravel this easily.
But nothing else explained the situation.
What noble bets dozens of gold with a street mage?
No matter how rich, it screamed ulterior motives.
With things as they were, no backing out.
Fleeing now would only deepen suspicion.
Nicholas steeled himself.
'Fine. Win the bet first.'
In his mind, his cover wasn't fully blown yet.
Dominicas valued efficiency.
If they knew for sure, no need for roundabout games.
Win this, no need for that massive spell—crisis averted for now!
And so his calculations shattered with the chess game.
'How is he this good...?'
Strong. Insanely so.
He'd had confidence in chess himself, but this was another level.
Moves that pierced every possibility.
By the time he blinked, victory was impossible.
'Lost. No way to win.'
Nicholas decided to fold.
They already suspected him anyway.
Better to reveal and ease the tension.
That's what he thought as he conceded—
"Let's call this bet off."
But against his resolve, the opponent showed mercy.
Signaling he wouldn't pry further into his identity.
Chaos gripped Nicholas at the Little Iron-Blooded's words.
'Mercy? From a Dominica?'
This flew in the face of all he'd heard.
Dominicas did anything for power.
They severed emotions for efficiency, ever the Iron-Blooded,
and this one was dubbed "Little Iron-Blooded" for his thoroughness.
Yet mercy?
Unthinkable.
Nicholas watched his opponent calmly reset the board.
'Leonardo Dominica.'
He had no clue why he'd dropped the pursuit.
But one thing was clear now.
He wasn't quite the man the rumors painted.
And Nicholas needed to dig deeper into just who he was.
Tucking that thought away, Nicholas moved a piece.