My Devourer System: Rise of the Bastard Son

The moonlight cast a long shadow over Lucen and Aya. The complex board they had set up astounded Liam.

But he had played Lucen enough to know when he was in a bad spot. It was a small gesture of touching his face.

Liam clenched his fist. Lucen would lose, and whatever horrible plot was afoot would wash over Castaway Valley and kill everyone he knew.

His eyes searched the board, using his advantage of seeing the entire board, to try and decipher what was happening.

He gaped, he wasn't the greatest player ever—Lucen made sure to always tell him that—but Liam could see what Aya was doing.

She pretended to be looking for a Skirmish victory, taking Lucen's commander, but her true plan was to gain Field domination in the last five minutes of the game.

Liam almost facepalmed. Stupid Lucen, why did he let her set the time?!... Honestly, he would have done the same, but he was still angry.

He had to help Lucen somehow. Lives were on the line. She had to have left one place where she would be open to a counterattack. Skirmish wasn't a style good for protecting the board.

But it looked so perfect. Aya was a genius; he was on Lucen's side, of course, but the setup and preparation were so beautiful.

Thirty-minute matches only allowed ten-second turns. Lucen would have to play quickly despite the sudden change of style.

Damn it, for the love of god, could something go their way?! 

Liam was about to go round the board once more when he remembered something Lucen had once said.

Follow the person's eyes, not their hands. Follow the person's logic, not their actions.

He paused, his eyes on a certain piece. The castle, her Commander and her only Sentinels were right beside it.

It couldn't be that easy?

He looked at Lucen. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.

But he was sure the message reached him.

■——■

Lucen's eyes danced between Liam's and what he was looking at. Was that it? 

It could be a trap? And Liam wasn't the best player… but what other choice did he have? He didn't feel like he underestimated Aya, but her experience and foresight were incredible.

Take the commander.

Once she revived all her troops behind his trenches, they would be able to move out quickly. He could take some of his Sentinels, and the small number of vanguard pieces he had still alive, to try taking her Commander.

He played a move just as his time elapsed, but she immediately played right after, forcing him to play and limiting his time to think.

He clenched his fist under the table. He would need to properly guard his king and revive some Vanguard, meaning he'd need to move his castle closer together and move his Psalm-singers.

Would she believe he was trying to defend his commander? No, she was too smart, and she could probably sense his frustration.

She would see it coming and pressure him. 

Something clicked in his head. He would steal her trick.

Push his Vanguard hard into hers to force them to die, and then use his Psalm-singers and Sentinels to secure revives and move towards her Castle.

It was risky, but it looked desperate, and once his Psalm-singers were in position, he would revive his Vanguard and rush to victory.

Seven minutes left. 

He placed a piece, and she quickly followed; they belted out more moves in the span of one minute than the last ten.

At that moment, he dedicated himself to winning. To saving Castaway Valley and Liam. 

Aya was right, the lives of thousands of people didn't matter—especially when the choice to save them was put in his hand—he had been ready to run away this night.

But Liam's life mattered to him, no matter how he tried to ignore it. And Jon had loved this city and its people despite their flaws and prejudice.

And no matter how much he denied it, the Lightcloak family mattered to him. He wanted to prove them wrong, gain their respect, and make his mother proud.

Five minutes left

He tried his best to look desperate and keep an eye on Aya, if she slowed down, he wouldn't be able to do this on time.

Four minutes left.

All of his Vanguard were dead, and he casually moved towards the tiles he marked. Aya slowed down for a second, something between her eyes.

He was caught. It was over.

But then she continued her pace. Lucen joined the rapid movement, containing her Vanguard while moving his Psalm-singers with the Army camps. 

If he lost this game… then he was sure as hell going to force the information from Aya.

Two minutes left

The attack began suddenly, with each turn, he revived Vanguard at specific places, creating a highway between the Army camps. 

In seconds, they would be at her commander's neck.

Aya paused and smiled coyly—maybe the first true smile he had ever seen from her. If she slowed down the game here and played heavy with her Channelers, she may still be able to win.

But Lucen would take all of her Vanguard behind his Trenches and win by Attrition… probably.

Thirty seconds left.

She continued her quick pace.

Times up. 

The match finally ended, and they both leaned back against their seats. Foreheads dotted with sweat, eyes tired but bright.

Aya smiled brightly.

"You truly lived up to your confidence"

"Thank you for not making those last few seconds hell," Lucen smiled back.

"It's an honour to lose to you," she leaned forward over the table, staring into his eyes deeply. "I will remain in your debt for the rest of my life."

Lucen flinched under her deep gaze and looked down at the black piece in his hand, the Farrow commander. 

He won.