The Divine Move

As the voice chimed in my head, I continued gathering the Go stones. "Just... one more game..." Sarne's voice was soft, carrying a desperate plea. The fierce, imposing commander of the legion was nowhere to be found.

"Please step aside." I crossed my arms and stepped away from the board. My stride was entirely devoid of hesitation. In contrast, she couldn't even bring herself to stand, her hands still resting flat against the wooden grid.

"J-just one... one more game! Please?"

"I must go." I was entirely serious. Our army's supply lines couldn't afford even a single day's delay. The negotiations were over, and all terms had been agreed upon. Staying any longer would be a complete waste of time—for everyone except this one dwarf, that is.

"How can you just have your fun and leave me hanging like thiiis?!" Sarne cried out, practically on the verge of tears. Her desperate tone actually moved her surrounding officers, who turned their heads away in sympathy. Or perhaps they just turned away because her pronunciation had completely dissolved into a slurred mess.

"...Excuse me, who's 'having fun' here?! People are going to get the wrong idea if they hear you!" I massaged the back of my neck. Her phrasing was incredibly dangerous. The very person who had solemnly declared this a duel to decide the fate of nations was now radiating the exact energy of a stubborn old man refusing to leave his seat at a local senior center after losing a game of Go.

Where had her initial composure, her haughty smirk, and her majestic posture gone? As the games progressed, her movements on the board had grown increasingly erratic. Her plays fell into disarray, like someone frantically clawing through muddy water to find something lost, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anxiety gradually seeped into her expression. The outcome was obvious: a total, crushing defeat.

"I-I'll speak highly of you when I return to the kingdom! I'm of the direct royal bloodline! Direct bloodline, I tell you!"

...And what exactly am I supposed to do with that information? I let out a quiet sigh.

"Seriously... this is the absolute last one."

This was already our fifth game. And with each passing match, Jiri's evaluation of her plummeted further.

...

...

"Let us begin then." With movements that had already become second nature, I cleared the board once more. When I slid the bowl of black stones toward her, she didn't take them immediately. Instead, she stared at me intently.

"What is it? Am I playing first this time?"

"Well..." Hesitating, she tilted her head back and looked up at me with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. After a long pause, she finally spoke. "...Give me a few stones."

"One stone."

"..."

"Two stones."

"..."

"How many do you want?"

"...Ten. Ten stones."

I swallowed a deep, internal sigh. Was this truly a commander of the Franz Kingdom's army? No, was this really how a Grandmaster of Baduk spoke? The urge to refuse flatly rose to the tip of my tongue. Yet, looking into her eyes... they were filled with genuine desperation. To this dwarf, Baduk was clearly not just a simple game. Right now, she was casting aside every shred of her pride. She didn't just want to win; she simply couldn't bear to accept her defeat.

I slowly picked up a stone and murmured, "Fine... we will start with a ten-stone handicap for black. But this is truly the last one."

At my words, her eyes sparkled, and she nodded vigorously. "Yes. I understand. The last one. Truly the last one."

I let out a small chuckle. It was a mercy she couldn't hear what Jiri was thinking right now.

As the stones began to dot the board one by one, her complexion visibly brightened. The fingertips that had been trembling while begging for "just one more game" were now unbelievably steady, as if she had been waiting for this exact setup from the very beginning. Resting her chin on her hand, she looked at me and smirked. "Huhuhu..." Seeing someone who had been practically weeping moments ago suddenly act like this made her feel all the more eerie and terrifying.

"To tell you the truth..." She ran a hand through her hair in a theatrical gesture, raised an eyebrow, and lifted a stone. "Everything you saw up until now was merely an act. Fooled you, didn't I?"

With a triumphant clack, she placed a black stone on the board.

"Ten stones." She held up ten fingers. "With a ten-stone lead, not even the God of Baduk could defeat me."

Her expression was that of a true avatar of war. Sarne had fully reverted to her original self—the confident, imposing legion commander. "My behavior earlier? A high-level psychological tactic. Winning a war doesn't only happen on the battlefield, you know!" She turned her head and flashed a sly grin, then lifted her chin toward her adjutants. "This is what real strategy looks like. The real battle begins now."

A distinctly awkward murmur rippled through her adjutants. "Wow... I see..." "Ah... yes, of course... as expected..." "Truly... magnificent..."

When my eyes met theirs, a chorus of uncomfortable coughs erupted from the officers standing behind the board. Sarne's adjutants, who had been standing in silence, were rapidly turning red.

To think she would actually lose... and get completely demolished at that...

Why am I the one feeling second-hand embarrassment here?

Their faces practically screamed these thoughts. A few averted their eyes, one buried his face in his hands, and another quietly nudged the colleague standing next to him.

Keeping my gaze fixed solely on Sarne, I spoke calmly. "...If that was truly acting, your kingdom should seriously consider sending you on a theatrical tour."

She let out a snicker. "Thanks. I'm actually scouting for a theater troupe. Thinking of joining one once the war is over." Perhaps she had grown comfortable around me, as she was now slipping into the casual tone she used during our games.

I maintained a polite smile, but internally, I was thinking otherwise.

That's because it wasn't an act. I silently picked up a stone. Her expression was so brazen that I didn't even feel like replying.

The game resumed. Her first few moves were undeniably solid. Perhaps bolstered by the massive ten-stone shield, Sarne's placements were refined, and her eyes shone with life. She had completely regained her momentum.

"Huhuhu... Do you see this flow? Everything is currently proceeding exactly as I calculated." Sarne placed a stone with pinpoint precision, speaking with absolute leisure. "In the end, Baduk is a battle. And in a battle, what matters most is not raw combat power, but instinct."

Her eyes gleamed with absolute conviction—the unwavering belief that her moves were beautiful.

I picked up a stone without a moment's hesitation. After all, I didn't actually know how to play Baduk. Even so, I knew exactly how the game was unfolding, because with every stone she placed, Jiri was feeding me the perfect countermoves.

Sarne grew even more aggressive with her subsequent placements. She targeted the edges, the center, and the lower-left corner simultaneously, her moves strictly adhering to established theory. There were no reckless plays; she maintained her lead through a calculated sequence of advances and retreats. Before long, she straightened her back and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. She spoke with an air of supreme confidence.

"Ultimately, the final victor is the only one who matters. No matter how the tide flows, the one who laughs last wins." Her gaze was steeped in arrogance—the hubris of someone who believed victory was already assured, convinced she no longer even needed to calculate her moves. "Look at this. Even with just this move—"

Clack.

At that exact moment, a stone slipped from my fingertips and landed on the board. The sound was exceptionally loud. It wasn't a mere click, but a resounding strike that felt like the beginning of something monumental.

Clack—

The moment the stone settled, all of Sarne's movements ground to a halt. My seemingly thoughtless demeanor, my placid attitude, my indifferent expression, and my careless-looking hand movements—in an instant, everything felt entirely different to her.

Sarne wasn't looking at me. She was staring at my hand. The moment the stone landed from my fingertips with that sharp clack, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through her, stealing her breath away. Behind her, the adjutants gasped in unison.

"...!"

"A divine move...!"

Thanks to the dwarves' innate talent for spatial calculation, they were far more adept at reading the board than humans. Even the adjutants could see it now. The board state that had seemed flawless just seconds ago—the entire board—had shifted.

The center she had dominated was crumbling, and the black stones securing her flanks were dying. A single, isolated white stone had been in atari, but the moment it connected, her entire formation imploded.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Her confident lips began to tremble. Her eyes darted frantically across the board, but her hand remained frozen.

"This... this is impossible..." her cracked voice whispered.

Only now did she realize that every single move had been a trap. It was a grand illusion designed to make her believe she held the advantage, all to set up this single, devastating blow. The dwarf who had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠prided herself on being a prodigy of Baduk was nothing more than a helpless insect before a monster capable of running hundreds of millions of simulations in an instant.

Without a word, I calmly lifted my teacup. Sarne stared blankly at her fingertips, then down at the board. As if all strength had drained from her body, a stone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor.

Clink.

"I lost..." she muttered, swallowing her despair. No one was laughing now. Knowing we couldn't sit here forever, I broke the silence.

"Thank you for the game." I bowed politely and stood up.

Sarne remained seated, her eyes vacant, her hands frozen. She was, quite literally, completely shell-shocked.

"Then, the weapons and the ten thousand gold coins," I said evenly. "As agreed, please have them delivered to our camp." I didn't drag out my words, cutting them off cleanly. Cold and smooth. It was merely the final settlement of a game that had already concluded.

As I prepared to leave, she spoke in a weak, trembling voice. "Wait! T-that move just now..." Fear lingered in her eyes—the look of someone confronting an incomprehensible, cosmic entity. "...That is a move that could only be played if you had envisioned the entire endgame before the match even began."

"This... this is like playing against the God of Baduk itself!"

"Just... just how far ahead did you see?!"

I muttered to myself, Was it really that amazing of a move? I glanced at Jiri.

Still, I couldn't just leave her wallowing in despair forever, so I spoke up. My mind was still thoroughly dominated by the movie The Divine Move. The iconic quote naturally slipped past my lips. It was a line I had always wanted to deliver in real life at least once. Having said my piece, I turned around without a single regret. Before I turned, she was staring blankly at my face, but I couldn't blame her. It really was a legendary line. Even I had rewatched that movie scene countless times whenever the hype took over. I decided to leave her to bask in the lingering aftereffects. "I shall take my leave now."

Stop with the verbal abuse.

He stood up. With a slight bow, he moved silently. Even that simple motion was impeccably refined and orderly. Sarne couldn't move a muscle. She could only stare blankly at the board. She had been so sure of her victory. The flow had been perfect. Her instincts had been sharp. Or so she had believed. Looking back now, she realized that every single play had been carefully baited. Even the flow of the game itself had been resting entirely in the palm of his hand.

Just before he reached the door, he paused and tossed a single line over his shoulder.

"From the very moment you stepped onto this board..."

At his words, Sarne's breath hitched.

"...The outcome had already been decided."

His voice was quiet. Yet, its resonance completely swallowed the room.

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠though he departed without another word, strangely, she could almost hear his next words whispering in her ear. Perhaps it was merely the lingering echo of a profound connection that only those who had sat across the same board could share.

'And your skills weren't half bad either, rival.'

Sarne's shoulders trembled slightly. A tempest of emotions surged within her—humiliation, an admiration she loathed to admit, and a crushing sense of defeat that arrived far too late. With her head bowed, all of those tangled feelings escaped her lips in a single whisper.

"Holy shit... that was so fucking cool."

An Elder Dwarf she may be, but among her kind, she was still incredibly young. In human years, she was barely an eighth-grader.