Chapter 7

Four (Part 2)

"Check."

"Checkmate."

"Check."

Over two hours, with dawn approaching, Nameless had managed to win once and repeatedly cornered Four.

His fingers shook as a wave of nausea overtook him, churning his stomach as if something were unraveling him from the inside out.

Four's mind was reeling, unable to hold his focus. He had grown accustomed to dominating his opponents, reading them like open books and exploiting their every flaw. But now, ever since Nameless had found a crack in his armor, she was exploiting it mercilessly.

Every move she made felt calculated, perfectly timed, as though she could see straight through him.

"What are you…?" Four muttered, wiping cold sweat from his brow. He felt exposed, vulnerable—just like the mindless puppets Nameless had brought.

One child in particular was stuck in his mind: the frail, dazed elf whose aura felt unsettlingly familiar.

Their presence left an icy prickle down Four's spine.

They radiated a disturbing familiarity, as if wrapped in echoes from his past.

For a fleeting moment, Four's mind pulled him back, past the cold calculations of the game, to memories of the First, Gashu's first child. That same layered energy, both fierce and fragile, had emanated from First in his younger years.

There was also an essence within this elf, faint but undeniable, that reminded him of Nameless herself—a resonance he couldn't explain, a shadow of her indomitable will.

He stopped focusing on the game, lost in thought.

"Oh, I won twice now," Nameless said with a polite smile, trying to get a reaction.

Four forced a smile back. "Goodness, I lost again. Made blunders because it got… boring." But he remained seated, eyes sharper than ever.

"Boring?" Nameless leaned back, feigning exhaustion but watching him closely.

"Yes. Maybe it's time to stop playing games and go to work now. You brought children, didn't you? I should check if their brainwashing magic is still intact." He watched her, his own expression unreadable.

Nameless' face grew guarded, a hint of tension breaking through her mask.

"Oh, but before that, let's play one last game," Four suggested. "To make it interesting: the winner gets to command something of the other."

She considered, then nodded. "No orders to harm or swallow anything."

"Deal." He dipped his head, smirking.

The final game began, but this time, the atmosphere shifted—there was no room for the playful distractions like before.

Both players were fully immersed in the game, their focus razor-sharp.

Nameless had been winning steadily, but now, as she scanned the board, a tension crept into her chest. She could feel the change in Four but he was no longer the same man who had stumbled under her subtle probing.

His every move was now a carefully calculated maneuver, his earlier vulnerabilities buried beneath a mask of steely composure.

He also seemed to have backtracked on his strategies and wrapped it differently. Though the game was just a bunch of patterns, Nameless could never beat an experienced player.

Within the first few moves, Nameless could sense the difference.

Four had adjusted his approach, as if he had been holding back, testing her patience.

His earlier uncertainty, the telltale signs of hesitation she had exploited so easily, were gone and the way he moved his pieces now was completely different.

It was fluid, deliberate, almost mechanical. It was as if he'd reset his entire strategy, weaving new layers of complexity that Nameless couldn't quite decipher.

Each piece he placed had a purpose, each shift on the board was deliberate, designed to trap her into a corner she hadn't seen coming.

Before she could even follow a single trail, Nameless lost.

"You won't back out now that I'm the winner, will you?" he taunted.

"Of course not. Want a blood pact?" she mentioned half-heartedly, annoyance evident.

"Great idea." At his willingness, Nameless flinched. "You have your crimson gem, don't you?" His eyes gleamed. "If Father trusted you with this job, surely you'd have one."

Nameless reached up, brushing aside her hair to reveal a small, gleaming crimson gem embedded in her forehead, like an eye opening.

Four's gaze lingered on it, his smug amusement fading briefly into something resembling respect—or perhaps envy.

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"Not bad," he said, his tone carrying a hint of grudging respect. "Few of us are willing to go that far… to become one with the gem like that. Anyways let's start."

They both bit their thumbs, pressing the bleeding fingers to their respective crimson gems. A sharp pulse of magic flared, binding them in a blood pact.

"The terms?" Four asked, watching her closely.

Nameless clenched her jaw, meeting his gaze steadily.

"The loser will obey a single command from the winner. And no, it cannot involve harm or… consumption."

"Agreed." Four's eyes sparkled with mischief.

He leaned forward, as if savoring her discomfort. "Since I won, here's my command: you will remain frozen in that seat for half an hour."

Nameless's eyes widened. "Thirty minutes?" she protested, the faintest tremor breaking through her usual calm. She gripped the edges of her chair, "That's too long."

"Having second thoughts, are we?" Four's smirk grew, a thought flashed by him. "Alright. I'll reduce it to fifteen minutes. But that's as low as I'll go."

Nameless hesitated, then gave a curt nod.

She felt the pact settle over her like invisible chains, locking her in place. Her arms and legs became heavy, her breathing slightly labored as if the air around her had thickened.

Four watched her reaction intently, savoring every flicker of emotion she tried to hide. As soon as the pact's hold bound Nameless in her chair, Four's gaze grew sharper, and he leaned in with a knowing glint in his eye.

"That frail elf you brought along…" he began, his voice low.

At the immediate mention, Nameless' eyes turned fierce.

Seeing the abrupt change made Four feel better. "I knew there was something off about her. She's been emitting the same energy as our kind. Our numbered kind to be exact."

Nameless's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly suppressed any reaction, masking her worried gaze with a neutral expression.

However it was too late.

Four smirked, clearly reveling in his discovery. "I can almost imagine the announcement." he continued, a touch of menace in his voice. "Favored child of Gashu trying to brainwash one of Father's numbered children—attempting to smuggle them away like they were just some pawn. I'd wager you thought you're clever, disguising your intent to rule with that initial indifferent look. But now, I think it's time I spare the elf any further misery."

Nameless felt a prickle of dread beneath her calm exterior. Four had no intention of letting the elf go. "One less potential enemy," he muttered, standing abruptly. "I'll deal with her myself."

Her calm exterior rippled with dread. "No… Wait! Wait!"

Without another glance at Nameless, Four set off, leaving her bound and silent. She could hear his hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"Damn it…!"

Nameless' head fell as she cursed aloud.

Once his presence faded, Nameless turned her attention to the window. She thought that at this time it would be enough.

Her expression subtly shifted, the earlier panic disappearing in an instant.

Slowly, her lips curled into a faint smile as her expression returned to its usual calm. She glanced in the direction Four had gone, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

"Good," she murmured under her breath, "It seems the impromptu plan succeeded on its own."

Her goal was to get Four away from the castle.

"It's my time to move..."

Nameless couldn't help but sigh in slight resign, she hadn't slept yet but the plan needs to progress, her pink eyes watched the corridor Four had just left in.

There was something he completely miss. No, rather than miss it, it's a variable he could've never imagined.

On her forehead, a crimson gem was slowly getting pushed out of her forehead, a golden light flickering from her body. The saintess' powers is throwing out an evil foreign material in her.

The crimson gem popped off of her, the wound closing immediately because of her genes that has fast regeneration and also the saintess' healing ability. After the effects wore off, Nameless stood up and headed to the forest through a different door.

Four chuckled to himself.

He strode confidently into the silent corridor. Each of his steps echoed, sharper in the oppressive stillness that filled the mansion. He relished the quiet at first—it felt like the calm before a storm he was ready to unleash.

With a quick glance down the hall, he noticed a faint golden glow at the far end.

It hovered like an elusive flame. Drawn by curiosity and a vague sense of satisfaction at uncovering what he assumed was his next target, he moved toward it with purpose.

The closer he got, the brighter the glow became, casting elongated shadows along the walls that flickered as if alive. They stretched and twisted with each step, lending an eerie feel to the already darkened corridor.

When he reached the end of the hallway, he found himself blinded by the light.

It was a moment that should spike his wary on normal occasions but Four was too absorbed in building his achievements, too excited by the idea of taking yet another step toward greatness, to even register the unsettling aura that filled the hall.

Finally the light subsided and he found himself in the middle of a forest. From behind him, he noticed the distant castle with its lights off.

Confusion crept in as he became wary.

"Huuu. Did that child bait me?" He wondered with a frown. No matter how careless he was, something was amiss.

A teleportation magic that he could not detect… I need to investigate this. Four thought.

With newfound resolve and clarity, Four began to run back to the castle of Georgies in quick strides. However it was short-lived.

His eyes caught another hint of the golden light, making him pause in his step.

There, he saw a silhouette bathed in golden glow.

"Ha! I got you now!"

Four's lips curled into a grin as he approached it.

His excitement at finding the culprit or an evidence to Nameless' charades, to why she was her without him being informed.

Because of this, Four could not register environmental variables.

The details of silhouette's eerie aura, the cold pulse of the golden glow—these things went unnoticed in his eagerness. To him, it was nothing more than a vulnerable target, the final piece in his plan.

Stepping closer, he prepared to reach out and seize her.

His excitement masked the subtle wrongness of the scene: the dark shadows creeping toward him; the way it held his gaze, a gaze that might have unsettled anyone more attentive.

For Four, this was a moment of victory. Nothing could disturb his plans now—not even the quiet, unsettling stillness that seemed to throb in the air around the being.

Even when cold fingers brushed his cheek, he couldn't register it on time.

There was a second of clarity, but his hand had already reached and grabbed its neck.

He screamed.