Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (136/?) WiP 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 136 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

His Eternal River Boat (HERB) Pursuit of Constance. Pleasure and Recreation Deck. Local Time 1515 Hours.

Emma

A baleful melody serenaded the defeat of the elves, while darkness quite literally descended on the entire realm, culminating in a shadowy and wispy mist that drained whatever color that remained on the board.

The life-giving light that shone from overhead slowly drew to a close, resembling the shuttering of a cupola within the domed atrium of an intersolar space liner. 

However, instead of a physical shutter simply blocking out the light from above, the stained glass quite literally transformed back into the solid fresco we’d seen earlier. 

Neither soft whispers nor open speech interrupted the solemn hymn of a crumbling virtual realm, as the atmosphere descended further into a regretful melancholy accentuated by the bowing of strings and the warbling of woodwinds.

The ambiance of the room barely resembled the hallmarks of victory, far from it. Instead, everything on display fell neatly into the trappings of defeat. 

This observation was quickly reinforced by the ‘closing credits’ of the game, showcasing what I could only describe as a series of concept art sketches depicting scenes of war amid a myriad of battlefields in stunning and breathtaking composition. 

The first of which depicted a massive hoard of mounted and infantry units gathered outside of some grand capital.

The second showed said forces marching to battle with a single mage leading the charge.

It was the third image where things finally clicked however, as I suddenly realized that this wasn’t just your typical behind-the-scenes concept art shown at the end of most media… but instead, custom art depicting stylized scenes of battle from our game.

I barely had time to form my growing curiosities into words before the elven pair stepped forward, their heeled shoes clacking across the now-flat mosaic floor.

Soon enough, they stopped mere feet in front of us, staring at us with varying levels of darkened consternation. 

The orange-haired Etale’s features proved to be the more worrying of the pair, as he wore something more closely resembling Ping’s furious frustrations, as opposed to Evrail’s more wary and concerned visage. 

A part of me grew increasingly concerned at what was about to transpire, and most of all, if all our efforts were about to end up becoming an exercise in futility.

Because if Ping and the wider Nexus was anything to go by, I expected something similar to a rug pull. A sudden and arbitrary change in the rules of the challenge that would deny the clear-cut victory we’d earned fair and square.

I stood there silently, watching as the elven pair turned to each other while the final few notes of the game’s melancholic ‘defeat music’ drew to a gradual and somber close. 

It was then, and only then, did Etale finally address us.

At which point, I prepared myself for any number of Nexian mental gymnastics.

“Whilst we are hesitant, and indeed… personally unwilling to acknowledge your victory…” The elf began before he inevitably trailed off, turning towards Evrail to cover his own ego.

“You have still managed to achieve the conditions of victory all the same.” Evrail acknowledged solemnly, dipping her head slightly as she spoke. “We thus acknowledge your victory—”

“—and in so doing, respect the sanctity and integrity of this most auspicious of games.” Etale quickly interjected, as if to make clear exactly where this unprecedented acknowledgement was coming from. 

“For the rules of the game are sacrosanct.” Evrail continued.

“And the integrity of the mechanics within — unquestionable in their deliverance.” Etale concluded, as they both turned up towards the fresco, holding their arms up high as a large book that resembled a sight-seer descended down ominously. 

A silence quickly descended on the pair as they quickly pocketed the book into a bag of holding, while turning to each other with two very different looks — a growing degree of visible disdain from Etale, and an expression of abject unease from Evrail.

The growing tension was palpable. Not only within the pair’s features, but on the faces of the staff as well; all of which seemed ready for the slightest command from the pair. 

It was then, after a deep breath, did Etale finally break the silence with a clenching of his fists. 

“Earthrealmer.” He began, but refused to make eye contact as he stood dramatically by Evrail’s side. 

“Yes, Lord Etale?” I responded promptly.

“Exactly what did you do?” He asked bluntly. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me.” He shot back. “Exactly what sort of tactics did you employ in that session?!” He drilled harder, placing his hands — and the bag of holding — behind his back in a sort of faux parade rest. 

“Tactics that I thought would work well in the game?” I answered as frankly as I could. 

“Don’t test my patience.” Etale seethed. “And do not test me. I need… nay, I want to know why you chose such an unorthodox, and frankly… flagrantly uncivilized strategy!”

I let out a sigh, leveling my gaze and winding back my shoulders before addressing the orange haired elf. “Because I read the room and saw the writing on the wall.” I replied just as bluntly. “Your tactics and strategies left a window of opportunity that needed to be exploited.” I continued, as I raised a hand for added effect. “Your opening moves, or lack thereof, is what we call A Tall Opening in my world. This left you vulnerable, completely undefended, but only for a discrete sliver of time.”

“So you do understand the standard opening moves of the game.” Etale reasoned, his eyes narrowing while his body refused to budge. “Why exactly did you choose such a… barbaric strategy then? Why play the savage when you know the rules of the civilized?” 

“If I’d chosen to play you at your own game, I’d have been at a disadvantage.” I responded with yet another sigh. “You two clearly know this game and its meta far better than I do. So, even with all of the pointers you gave me, I’d still be playing at an experience deficit. This left me with a single viable strategy…” I paused for dramatic effect, taking a single step towards the smaller man. “I’d force you to play my game, at my pace.” 

“But this isn’t your game, newrealmer.” Etale seethed. 

“No, no it isn’t. But for that narrow sliver of time, I managed to make it my game, all the same.” I chuckled darkly. 

This seemed to cause some cracks to form on the man’s visage, as his eyes quivered, if only for a moment. “And you knew this for a fact?” 

“It was a hunch. Or as my superiors would say — a calculated risk.”

“And so you placed everything on this… hunch. Placing everything at risk. Your entire game. This entire challenge?” He took a deep breath, moving forward a single step. “Instead of mitigating those risks by meeting us at what was at the very least an assured path to victory?”

“Like I said, Lord Etale. It was a risk I was more than willing to take.” I explained cockily. “I’ve played these games before, and I know when to exploit a weakness.”