He cackles, touching his knight on g5 and yet then again another sacrifice he has done, capturing my pawn on f7, 8) Nxf7 … and he declares: "You noticed that I am the harvester, inn'it?" as he continues to titter hysterically.
What in the hell are you doing, you twat? Of course, I will take his knight on f7 [8) … Kxf7] and now, I will be up in material of four points - a knight and a pawn just like that. A piece of cake.
"Harvester? Are you a farmer or something?" ridiculing, as somehow I get my confidence back, by which my complacency is surging up.
"You got some nice cracks. You could say that but I prefer soul. The souls of the damned." he smirks once again, in an elegant way he touches his piece.
A devastating queen check I got there on f3, 9) Qf3+. Oh no, that check is not that harmful as how I perceived, I think I made an overstatement in that move. I don’t want to leave my knight to be retaken. Instead of abandoning it, I am persistently going to protect it by moving my King to e6, 9) … Ke6. The shade of darkness is getting thicker and thicker than the prior with only myself and the hands of my opponent that I could see. He follows it with a consecutive check of rook from f8 to e8 [10) Re8+ …]. Hahaha… that check is only meager but if I am going to sidestep my King to d6, 10) … Kd6, then the outcome would be checkmate, 11) Qxd5#. Therefore, I am going to parry it with my knight on c6 moving onto e5, 10) … Ne5. The squares and the pieces are starting to give me hiccups because it switches the colors. My move, Ne5, grants me satisfaction if however I get myself out of the prickly pin of the rook on e8 then I am going to take his moxie sitting on f3 - if ever.
He reacts to it by adding pressure to the pinned piece - that is my knight on e5, 11) Bf4 … and he mutters: “Shoun, yaor shool shall vi mayin. Hahaha.“ in a muffle voice, though I did grasp what he was saying.
Amidst the heat of this game; I respond by reinforcing my knight on e5 with my dark-squared bishop moving from e7 to f6, 11) … Bf6, and as I comment on his statement, speaking: “What is it? You are losing? Are you god damn high? Haha!" then my vision gets funny. It is hazy and concurrently it is getting blurry. I retaliate back by mocking him albeit he might not or may seem to even reach my words unto him.
12) Nc3 ..., he plays yet another sacrifice he is willing to bestow upon me! Alas, my pawn can take it freely. He scoffs in rather in an inaudible voice, uttering: "Yoo hath maydin a vig meesteiak." as the sounds disperse in a quite a bit afterwards. No questions asked, I capture his knight on c3 with my pawn on d4 ensuing, 12) ... dxc4. As of now, yes! I think I may have the advantage with me, nevertheless, my King is entirely exposed in the middle of the board. I am yet again have the advantage of piece quantity at my disposal because of that six favorable points (two knights). However, my vision is starting to blur while with my eyes are subconsciously blinking in a spontaneous effort.
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13) Rxe5+ ..., a move that I really overlooked to see. Due to the fact that I lost my piece, my knight on e5. My knight whose probably has the potential to disrupt the flow of the game. The knight on e5 was targetting his queen sitting on f3 but my knight is pinned by the rook on e8 to my king on e6 in an open file. I miss the chance to defend it once more. Since he is willing to yet again offer a tribute far more than valuable my knight to his rook, mathematically speaking, the disparity of the piece play of rooks and knights are two points each in difference.
"May you had my knight on e5, yet once again, your erratic sacrifices won't do much damage to my impregnable defense. However, you keep throwing away your pieces for no valid reasons. Hahaha!" as I end it with a laugh aftwerwards, shouting, by which I am so elated that I am close to victory just by only defending my position.
13) ... Bxe5 - reclaiming the belligerent piece and at the same time, protecting my king on e6 for various attacks. He then in a nonchalant way repositions his piece, the rook, from its original square a8 to e8. 14) Re8, Establishing a piece around the first rank, as he rephrases his intentions of relentlessly assault my positions. I admit my king on e6 is a bit misplaced but that is only for a tad moment since the quantity of the active play will not do much harm to my fortress. It makes me ponder for a second; my pawn is on c3 and is being challenged by a pawn on b2 and yet and however, he relinquished on recapturing my pawn. So therefore, 14) ... cxb2!!, and I am going to put two exclamation marks on that according to Clyden, it denotes brilliancy. And the brilliancy that I am referring to is my pawn on b2 is actually closing to a promotion and in correspondence, I will have another queen at my expenses and soon winning the game!
He says: "Hyuj bla undir on yoor part." while he delivers me something like in a scroll in a folded position, as the word 'part' is only that I could understand.
"Wait? What is the matter? Are you losing? Well, hell yeah! I am about to smither you into minced piece!" I interject upon him, where I snatch the small scroll out of his hand.
I then unfold the piece on the palm of my hand. It is filled with notations. And it is the notations of our game presented in this sheet.
And then, I am surprised on how eloquent he speaks on the latter part of this conversation. Profusely, my sweat is divulging so hard despite, I am getting the feeling of the sensation of being damp.
"Your soul is mine. However, not this moment. By then, expect it in month or so." he suggests, portraying death threat to my life.
"Alas, cherish your numbered days with your comrades and friends. And especially, your mistress and the ones you hold. That includes among the interior party of the council." he adds, in a panting voice, as he titters afterwards.
Meanwhile, the surroundings of this playroom get so bright and brisky. At this moment, I find myself lying on the pavement. As my eyes are turning to get hazy and in an abrupt second, the periphery of my visions change into a pitched jetblack. I turn myopic and at the same time, where my vision is in a constant rate of getting blind.
"Lord Aisla!" are the finale of words, my name, that I could only hear of, echoing and in a slow fashion gradually losing its pitch over time.
I am sorry, Lady Anda. As for the rest, please forgive me for I have left you my unfinished obligations upon you.