The digital cards fizzled out and a cave’s darkness came over The Wonderful Yellow. A small light pointed at Tenner and Sam. Around their table, the onlookers’ pipe embers looked like red eyes staring at the match.
The eyes of the judges. No, the evil of this world! Unless I win, they’ll take me to their dungeon and torture me till the end of time! Tenner shuddered. Time to focus.
Twisty nodded. Tenner and Sam got their cards. His fingers felt the paper and his mind took him to a battlefield in the desolation. Finally, he could see the match as a battle.
It was time for the grandest general to defend the good cause. If he lost this match too, he’d lose what he’d gained over the hunt.
There are thousands of soldiers on this table. Thousands of lives I might have to sacrifice.
“Who goes first,” he asked.
“Fuck... For once, I’ll go.” Sam moved his card. The group of incognito soldiers moved forward on the right flank. Tenner copied Sam’s move. The drunk’s other unit came to the middle of the board and Tenner followed it up with a swift advance from the left. The armies are getting in position.
Sam likely thought that Tenner would try to slip through the gap left in the mass of men in the back by the advancing forces. He had to keep his unmoving special units and backups there.
Tenner would show the opponent what he wanted to see. After a few turns of forces advancing, he made his cards retreat from Sam’s attacking force, leaving two units to deal with it.
Finally, Sam attacked.
His troops were decent and he rolled good numbers. Tenner’s weak force barely held back: a tiny battalion with machine-guns and prayers in hand. Bombs rained from the skies and countless friendships ended in the mud and blood. Survive for a while and you’ll make for one hell of a song. Tenner glanced at the cards then at his strongest unit, which he’d sent behind Sam’s line. The Bully was its name: it lingered behind enemy lines, picking off backup units. Once Tenner’s tiny battalion was about to vanish, the Bully returned and besieged Sam’s halted attack. The duo of cards which had somehow held out cried in joy and kissed their rifles.
The drunk grunted.
He had a choice.
Either finish off what remained of Tenner’s weak defense--who were celebrating their survival--or weaken the Bully from behind. After a minute of silence, he chose to complete what he’d started.
Fool. Should’ve backed out. The Bully ravaged Sam’s attack. Once the attack turned around to repel the Bully, Tenner sent it running towards his reserves on the left flank.
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The Bully dug its feet into the ground a few tiles early as the flank started repositioning: half to face Sam’s extras, half -- to face his dwindling offensive. Sam merged half of his backup with his attack. Still, it had to be weak. Instead of taking the easy kill, Tenner used his turn to blitzkrieg Sam’s extras.
Sam growled. His offense went after the Bully. The Bully retreated and the reserves repositioned themselves behind the attack.
“I see you’ve put me in a fucking hold,” Sam said, wide eyes flicking from spectator to spectator, all with the same expression. “If I try to kill your bully, you attack my backup. But if I defend, you kill my attack.”
“Then why don’t you retreat?” Tenner did an incredible job containing his smirk, considering the power barraging his lips.
“If I retreated, you’d finish off my backup before I even realized it. Or I’d run into the fucking special cards in your reserves.”
“What if I followed you? Then you could kill my backup while my bully endlessly wandered after your attack.”
“That’d be a stupid fucking idea.”
“Really? Because I was about to do that.” Tenner sent his Bully forward. Sam retreated. His attack was a key part of his force he couldn’t lose.
Tenner alternated, one round sending more and more of his cards after Sam’s retreating attack, the other doing damage to his backup. By the speed of Sam’s breathing, Tenner could tell he hadn’t expected half of his force to follow his attack.
Sam sacrificed his attack -- his backup went for Tenner’s. A few cards died. Every time, pain struck his chest, like a part of him went with them.
And now I reveal the real dupe.
Tenner’s cards that waited in the flank were simple numbers, even though they sat there since the very beginning. His two card attack force, which had held off Sam’s massive offense until the Bully returned, were the special cards -- the movement around them made it seem that they moved as well.
Tenner’s reserves ambushed Sam’s main force. The turns passed quickly. Soon, the battlefield calmed down as thousands of corpses laid scattered across it.
The drunk’s fist slammed onto the table. Another fist followed. The sounds were all loud as laserpistols and each movement felt like falling from the sky. Tenner breathed deeply through his nose and held his head. It’s gonna be okay… Only the final round left. He ordered his CHEK again. I need to see the battle unfold in real-time to win.
Tenner’s grabbed his cards. As his head brought him to the battlefield and morphed the paper in his grip into action heroes who’d follow his every move, the dizziness faded. Frustration and unfocus on Sam’s face stuck out.
They started placing their cards. Tenner’s army advanced first. Sam followed with blunt efficiency. Four turns later, battle ravaged the table. Sam used a simple attack, barely any strategy at all. There are cases where this works. But fighting against the best Stardestructor player in the world? It’s such disrespect! Without the need to overcomplicate things, Tenner used a tactic of ancient generals: the attack stretched into a multi-part line. One unit idled behind it and joined whichever of the three sections faced overwhelming odds.
Sam unlodged the knife out of the table and pointed its blade at his forehead.
He stared.
The knife dropped and his head started shaking.
“I don’t wanna die yet,” the drunk said. “I can offer you a good fucking replacement. It’s not money, but it’ll bring you that and lots more. I’m an idiot for offering you this instead of my life…”
“Well?” Tenner raised a brow, the world doubling in his eyes. Indeed, Sam had disrespected him once or twice, but the man’s blood wasn’t on Tenner’s mind -- he’d take the replacement if it was worth more than a loaf of bread.
“I gotta first ask.” Sam eyed the ground. “You know a thing or two about Ultimates?”