The victor was clear, and the applause rippled through the crowd. Congratulations were given freely, but not everyone was so quick to accept what they had witnessed.
“I can’t believe it,” Kassandra muttered, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
“What do you mean?” Hoyo asked, tilting his head.
“You’re telling me that someone who didn’t even know what the King’s Gambit was managed to play that well?” she demanded. “Not only did he execute moves perfectly, but he also led his opponent into traps several moves ahead. That doesn’t just happen! He must have known the game.”
“Does it matter?” Hoyo countered with a grin. “We get to skip the exams thanks to him. Trust me, if someone tricks me, but I get to pass an exam, they can fool me as often as they want!” He clapped loudly for Ludwig, a grin stretching from ear to ear.
Ludwig had just finished shaking hands with his opponent, her expression still a mixture of disbelief and frustration. As she gathered her things, she turned to Ludwig and asked, “When are we meeting?”
“I still need to go around the event,” Ludwig replied, his tone measured.
“The mage parade closes for the night in two hours,” she said. “I’ll be at the inn by then.”
“Sure,” Ludwig replied casually.
She nodded curtly before leaving, her footsteps brisk and determined.
The announcer approached Ludwig, her energy bubbling over as she peppered him with questions about his performance.
“How do you feel about your victory?” she asked with a wide grin.
“It was a tough match,” Ludwig said, though it was an obvious lie.
“And your opponents?”
“They were all skilled players. Each game pushed me to my limits,” Ludwig replied, his tone steady and unconvincing.
The announcer, oblivious to his disinterest, nodded enthusiastically as if every word he spoke was profound. The referee, meanwhile, jotted down notes as though Ludwig’s strategies were groundbreaking revelations.
Finally, Ludwig was presented with a small ornate box. Opening it, he found a metallic orb covered in intricate, swirling designs.
[The Artificer’s Orb]
One of many cores created by an unknown craftsman known as The Artificer. These artifacts were discovered within ancient ruins and machinery attributed to a long-extinct race. The Artificer’s Orb serves as a potent mana conduit, capable of optimizing and sustaining mana flow. It is a critical component for creating and maintaining magical constructs, particularly golems.
‘So this is what he wants…’ Ludwig thought, tucking the orb into his storage ring without a second glance.
As he walked back toward Kassandra and Hoyo, he noticed their expressions—a mixture of admiration and amusement.
“What?” Ludwig asked, already dreading their response.
“What do you mean ‘what’?” Hoyo replied, still grinning. “We get to skip the exams! If this is what victory feels like, then let me bask in it!”
“Buddy, we’re practically royalty now,” he added, laughing.
Ludwig rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
“How did you do it?” Kassandra asked, her tone sharp.
“Do what?”
“How did you understand the game so well and pull off strategies like that when you said you’ve never played before?”
“I don’t know,” Ludwig shrugged. “The game seemed simple enough.”
Kassandra’s jaw tightened. “Simple?” she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief.
“I guess this is what they call genius,” Hoyo interjected with a chuckle. “I had a cousin who was brilliant with numbers but terrible at everything else. Couldn’t even hold a proper conversation, but give him an abacus and he’d work miracles.”
“Are you implying Ludwig’s slow?” Kassandra asked, raising an eyebrow.
Hoyo grinned. “Sometimes he’s a little clueless about the basics.”
“You know,” Ludwig said, narrowing his eyes, “I could ask Van Dijk to leave you out of this Artificer Orb business.”
Immediately, Hoyo dropped to his knees, clutching Ludwig’s legs dramatically. “Please, anything but that!”
“Stand up! You’re embarrassing us!” Ludwig snapped, trying to shake him off.
“Please!”
“Fine! Just get up,” Ludwig said, exasperation clear in his voice.
“Anyway, about chess—or King’s Gambit, or whatever—it’s not that hard if you just pay attention. It doesn’t take much to figure out.”
“Then play me at the academy,” Kassandra said, a challenge glinting in her eyes.
“Sure,” Ludwig said, indifferent.
Kassandra beamed, her smile as bright as if she’d won the tournament herself. “Perfect! I want to learn some more strategies.”
“Now what?” Ludwig asked, eager to change the subject.
“Now,” Hoyo said, rubbing his hands together, “we enjoy the rest of the masquerade! Let’s see what the stalls have to offer.”
“You just want to stuff your face,” Kassandra said, rolling her eyes.
“Maybe,” Hoyo replied with a grin.
The three wandered through the bustling crowd, weaving between colorful stalls and performers. Laughter and music filled the air, and the scent of roasted meats and sweet pastries wafted through the streets. The Mage Masquerade truly lived up to its reputation—a vibrant celebration of magic and culture, with something to captivate every sense.
***
Elsewhere, beneath the commotion…
Far below the festival, in a dark and stifling chamber, a man sat atop a mound of cushions and pillows. He wore wide, floppy pants and a vest that left his chest exposed. Atop his head was a black turban adorned with an enormous emerald that gleamed in the dim candlelight.
The air was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with the coppery tang of dried blood. Around him lay the corpses of four women, their desiccated forms twisted in eternal agony.
“Gather the bodies,” he ordered, waving his hand lazily.
Two young boys in plain robes scurried forward, dragging the corpses away. In front of the man, a line of burly, kneeling figures remained motionless, their heads bowed.
“So,” the man said, his voice low and commanding, “what of the souls? I felt a disruption.”
One of the kneeling figures spoke, his voice trembling. “The King’s Gambit event, my lord. Someone of Lufondal royal lineage participated.”
“I see,” the man said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “But that’s not all, is it? One of my djinn sensed something strange: he was a student from the Black Tower Academy.”
“Yes, my lord. He wore the robes of a first-year. He seemed unaware of what was happening. Shall we dispose of him?”
The man considered this, his emerald glinting ominously as he rubbed it between his fingers. “No. If he’s truly ignorant, there’s no need to risk provoking the academy. Not to mention, we can’t kill anyone directly. The Sultan would be furious if we’re exposed though he’ll be more than happy if we succeed.”
“What about the royal?”
“Monitor them closely. Their every move must be accounted for,” the man ordered. “And if the student becomes a problem… deal with him…quietly.”
The room fell silent save for the crackling of the candles, their light casting eerie shadows across the chamber.