A Game of Chess V

Lucifer slumped to the ground, his breaths coming shallow and ragged, as we rushed to his side. 

"Rachel!" I called, urgency slicing through my voice.

She met my gaze, nodding with quiet resolve. Her eyes gleamed with determination, though I could see the toll of exhaustion weighing on her shoulders—she hadn't fully recovered from the strain of holding that illusion during our Frostspire raid. Still, she knelt beside Lucifer, channeling her light magic, her brow slick with sweat as the glow of her healing magic enveloped him.

But I felt the cost with every pulse of light. Rachel was pushing herself close to her limits.

'We lost Ian,' I thought, feeling the chill settle deep. It was a harsh truth, unyielding and cruel. First Ren, now Ian—two from Class A, brought down by Jack Blazespout.

Rachel glanced up at me, her face drawn with effort. "I don't think Lucifer will be able to fight," she murmured, a tremor in her voice as she leaned back, the exertion finally breaking through her steady composure.

Jack wouldn't give us time to regroup. He'd press the advantage, strike again before Lucifer could rise.

"What about Gravehold Academy?" I asked, breaking the tense silence.

"Slatemark took over," Jin answered, his tone dark. I'd asked him to send some necromantic scouts to keep tabs on Gravehold, but they'd been wiped out.

The reality of the situation settled over us like a shroud.

"It's a tie," I said finally, letting the words hang heavy in the air.

Slatemark Academy held two flags. And so did we.

Points for eliminations and other achievements mattered, yes—but when all was counted, it boiled down to this. There was only one clear path left.

We had to take Slatemark Academy's flag.

There was only one path left to victory.

I had to face Jack Blazespout head-on and defeat him in a direct clash.

My heart pounded with a steady rhythm as I considered it, the sheer weight of what lay ahead settling heavily on my shoulders.

Beat Jack Blazespout.

I'd read the novel; I knew the extent of his power. But reading was one thing—seeing it firsthand was another. I had watched Ren, Jin, and Seol-ah throw everything they had at him, only to fall short. Even Lucifer, with his fierce strength, had been outmatched.

Jack was strong. Impossibly strong.

The villain of this world, the man who wielded fear itself as a weapon. And now, to secure victory, I was to bring him down.

A question gnawed at the back of my mind. 'Am I confident?'

Not in the least. 

Doubt crept in. Could I even defeat Lucifer if it came to it, despite all my training? How much harder, then, would it be to take on someone like Jack? He was on another level, a creature of terrifying intent and relentless power. 

If he unleashed his full strength—Abyssal Flames included—there would be no path to victory for me. But that power was something he couldn't yet risk revealing. And therein lay my slim advantage.

There was no certainty, but the time for hesitation had passed.

I had to win.

Arthur couldn't rely on something as unpredictable as a base race. No, the final strike would have to be decisive.

"All units will move to attack Slatemark Academy's base in three hours," I commanded, his voice steady against the fading light as the sun dipped into a horizon washed in shades of amber and crimson.

The assembled students looked at me, shock and uncertainty flickering across their faces.

I continued, unwavering. "I'll remain here to defend our flag."

__________________________________________________________________________________

A pause followed as the plan settled into place. Then, one by one, they nodded, and the hum of determination filled the air.

Meanwhile, across the island, Jack Blazespout stood in Slatemark's camp, the faint glimmer of his own smirk breaking across his face as he weighed his options. Arthur Nightingale's plan was audacious, but to Jack, it was painfully predictable. 'He plans to leave his flag vulnerable, thinking he can defend it alone? Well, that's the best option he has.'

Jack didn't hesitate. With a sweep of his hand, he directed Slatemark's remaining units to stay back and hold the line against Mythos' approaching students. 'They'll throw everything they have at us,' he thought, 'and we'll match them with numbers and force.'

And while they clashed head-on, Jack would claim the real prize.

"Stay alert," he ordered his captains, his voice carrying across Slatemark's assembled ranks. "No matter what you see or hear, our focus is on holding our ground. Leave Arthur Nightingale to me."

A few moments later, Jack moved through the shadowed forest path toward Mythos Academy's base, a thrill of confidence surging through him. In his mind, he had already won. His Nirvana Flames flickered around him, casting a ghostly glow in the growing dusk. His path was clear: take down Arthur, eliminate the Mythos Academy flag, and end this contest in Slatemark's favor.

As the first stars pricked the sky, Jack emerged from the shadows, his figure radiating a formidable energy that stirred the night air.

"I'm torn, Arthur," he drawled, a mocking lilt to his tone. "I can't decide whether you're brave or just painfully foolish."

Arthur's gaze didn't waver, his azure eyes fixed on Jack with a cool, unyielding stare. No flinching, no hesitation—just that quiet, steely confidence.

Jack's smile widened, savoring that look. 'The same look Lucifer had given me once,' he thought, recalling the moment he'd reduced Lucifer's unbreakable poise to ashes.

"Oh, I see," Arthur replied, his tone calm, cutting. "I'm just a realist."

Jack raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And you think reality's on your side?" he asked, his head tilting slightly, the glimmer of a challenge in his eyes.

Then, in a surge of power that felt like a pulse from the heart of the earth itself, Jack's mana flared, thick and crushing in the air between them. It was a presence that brooked no denial, a strength woven of fire and something darker. This was no ordinary adversary, no mere opponent—Jack Blazespout was power made flesh.

Arthur could feel it with bone-deep certainty: this was the strongest foe he'd ever faced. More powerful than the Shadow Seeker from the Freshman Ball, fiercer than the succubus, more relentless than the Elder Dark Treant, and beyond his father or Drake Namgung's skill. Jack was a force on a whole new plane, a foreshadowing of the strength Arthur would one day need to match.

For Jack, this was just another display of strength; for Arthur, it was the mark of a destination he'd vowed to reach—no matter how distant the road.

Arthur's body glowed with intricate sigils as he activated Lucent Harmony, the flicker of space magic propelling him forward with a startling burst of speed. He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, his sword wrapped in a shimmering wind aura as he swung it down, aiming to cleave through Jack in a single, decisive strike.

Jack barely blinked, sidestepping with an ease that suggested he found Arthur's effort amusing, if not entirely inconsequential. But Arthur wasn't finished. Fluidly, he brought the blade back up, a seamless, boomerang-like arc that mirrored the very strike Luke Orden had once used on him.

This time, Jack's eyes narrowed as he barely shifted in time to dodge. The edge of Arthur's wind-wrapped sword grazed his cheek, leaving a faint line as Jack took a measured step back, touching the mark left by the glancing blow.

"Not bad," Jack murmured, his voice laced with an edge of genuine intrigue as he inspected the faint sting on his skin.

In that brief instant, Jack saw it: Arthur's command of the sword surpassed Lucifer's. Lucifer's skill was formidable, honed by God's Eyes, but Arthur's swordsmanship was sharper, a blade tempered by something even Jack could respect.

"Not bad, you say," Arthur murmured, his voice carrying a hint of defiance.

In an instant, his movements sharpened, his blade seeming to multiply as he poured more mana into his strikes, activating Illusion Sword. His form blurred, each stroke a mirage trailing close behind, as if a dozen swords swung in unison, each aimed squarely at Jack.

Unfazed, Jack raised his hand, casting a five-circle spell with a flick of his wrist.

"Blazing Palm."

The air rippled with heat as his open hand surged forward, cloaked in fire aura, colliding with Arthur's blade mid-strike. Flame and steel met, hissing as mana clashed against mana, fire against illusion. Jack's Blazing Palm surged, its heat pressing against Arthur's blade like a wall.

But Arthur didn't falter.

With a steady breath, he compressed his aura into the sword's edge, layering it with gravity magic at the tip. His weapon gleamed under the pressure, pulsing with dense energy as he met Jack's spell head-on, countering the Blazing Palm's force with his own weight and skill. Sparks flew from the impact, each burst a testament to the fierce clash of mana and intent.

Arthur gritted his teeth, pushing his speed to new heights—a blur of movement even Jack could barely track. His Mythic Body and Soul Vision, abilities granted by the qilinification of his Soul Resonance, sharpened his senses and honed his strikes to a razor's edge.

Each swing of Arthur's blade was precise and relentless, an unyielding rhythm Jack met with palms searing with Nirvana Flames. Sparks erupted from every impact, the air filled with the crackling hiss of fire against steel. Jack's flame-coated palms flickered under the pressure, but Arthur held fast, pressing his advantage.

This was his moment, his opening—small, but enough to shift the tide, granted by the sheer surprise of Soul Resonance. Jack had seen him wield Heaven's Descent Walk before, but Mythic Body and Soul Vision? These were new, and Arthur knew it. He wouldn't let go of the upper hand.

"You are strong, Arthur," Jack admitted, his voice calm, almost appreciative.

In an instant, a surge of dread flooded Arthur's senses. Instinctively, he halted, his body pulling back a step as if guided by some invisible force. And in that moment, he understood why.

A roar of heat and light erupted before him.

BOOM!

White flames burst forth, consuming the air around Jack in a searing, blinding halo. Even from a distance, the fire gnawed at Arthur's defenses, the heat pressing against his aura, forcing him to brace himself against its relentless onslaught.

This was Jack's peak, the full strength of Nirvana Flames unleashed without reserve—a terrifying power known as the Nirvana Avatar. The white-hot flames danced around Jack, crackling with a destructive hunger, illuminating his figure like an unyielding specter of pure fire. Arthur felt a grim recognition settle over him; he was now facing Jack's truest form, the closest thing to his unrestrained might.