Even when gaining some free time, there are peculiar individuals who choose to labor anyway.
“Check.”
“Nu?”
Well, whether this can be called work is a bit of a tricky question.
I advanced a pawn that I had created myself and kicked away the royal guard piece that had been blocking the path toward the Emperor. While the Emperor has the trait of being untouchable by other pieces as long as it remains backed by the tile directly behind it, this foolish guard had greedily emerged upon seeing a major piece.
“Nu nu, just, just a moment.”
The old man sitting across from me—a dwarf, though is he still young? Their beards all look the same so it’s hard for us humans to tell their ages—groaned while twisting his ample beard.
“There will be no ‘just a moment.’ However…”
Pointing at the sign I had placed atop the table with a tap-tap, the old man hesitated for a while before passing over a few large copper coins in my direction.
“As always.”
I bowed courteously, enjoying the groaning sound of “ggruuu” with a pleasant ear, then returned the royal guard piece to its original position and canceled the job for the pawn that had kicked it.
What to do, what to do now…
Finding myself with some free time, I was conducting a small trade. As a side endeavor to boost my proficiency, I started selling the chess-like pieces from the military tactic game I had been slowly crafting. Despite being merely wooden pieces colored with cheap paint, this humble production has become a routine part of my daily work.
The Imperial Capital was a good place to do business. In the designated plot of the “Blue Sky Market” in the lower-town commerce district, one could rent a single table space for a day with a 25-As permit. No need for a Deputy’s approval as in a manor, and no levy from the trade guilds—this carefree business was perfect for making a little extra money. While Lady Eliza’s tuition was becoming more manageable, there’s never enough money to cover one’s own mouth, is there?
In this Blue Sky Market, I sold my military tactic game pieces starting from 15 As to 1 Libra. The smallest pawn, which moves in a manner akin to a chess pawn but cannot leap when arranged in three rows side-by-side, was offered at a lower price. The intricately designed knight with limited direct approaches from the front, as well as the Emperor and Crown Prince—considered must-have items—were set at a higher price, with no particularly innovative twist in this business model.
There was just one playful addition. A trial challenge: if a customer could defeat the shopkeeper, they’d receive a free piece of their liking.
It’s the same as the festival lottery where people get swindled out of five gold coins, but because I clearly specify “any piece of their liking,” my method is much more ethical, isn’t it?
Moreover, the challenge fee is equivalent to buying two pieces. Additionally, using a single “just a moment” costs one extra piece. And so, given the countless pieces this old man has bought already, as if assembling an entire division, he’s definitely… a good customer.
I took a moment to strategize and moved the imperial envoy from my main camp, who normally cannot be taken by other pieces but will sacrifice itself if taken. For now, I’ll take the delaying tactic, luring my opponent into making a mistake.
Despite this, I consider myself a rather competent player. My “<Tactic Game Knowledge>” has reached “Mastered,” and given that I’ve always enjoyed board games, my understanding has deepened considerably. What’s important here isn’t so much about “<Tactic Game>” proficiency, but rather the enhancement of its knowledge.
After all, if I got good purely via my authority, well, that would take the fun out of it, wouldn’t it?
Rotating my mind as I manipulated the pieces and drew out two “just a moment” calls, I graciously conceded by tipping over my Emperor with a finger, acknowledging defeat. Although there was an opportunity for a third comeback, it would be childish to win here.
I don’t think that fits well as a shopkeeper either. Given how much benefit I’ve already accrued—offering complimentary pieces to such a generous customer is only fitting service.
Besides, with “next-battle-okay” policy in place, I’d hate to be pestered for a rematch and miss the next customer.
“Hmmn… well, that’s probably enough for today.”
“Always nice dealing with you. Have you decided on a piece?”
Apparently still unsatisfied, the dwarf picked a well-carved knight piece before jumping down from his chair—which appears more like a step-ladder to them—and shuffled off. Judging from the direction, he was probably a craftsman taking a break somewhere.
“Alright, my turn next!”
“Yes, always nice to see you. Two pieces, what will it be?”
The next to take the chair was a brawny ogre male. His bronze skin and reddish-copper hair were characteristic of a tribe from even further south. Hanging a short sword’s sheath on his belt—of course, within the Imperial Capital, the actual weapon must be stored away—seemed to indicate he was a warrior class guard passing the time.
“Hmmn… Despite the high price, that Empress piece sure is eye-catching. I’ll take that and the dragon cavalry. Hey, could you make pieces featuring a giant warrior and ogre soldier in the future? I’ll be around for four more days, so definitely, alright?”
This way, customers don’t just aim for profit but sometimes bring requests for unique designs, making the work far more rewarding.
“Then I shall prepare it by the day after tomorrow.”
Mumbling quietly that I’ve had some free time recently, I began setting up the pieces. This time without complicated rules, just a basic format where both players create their formations by placing one piece at a time in an impromptu setup. There’s also a pre-arranged array format, but this method stimulates the mind far better.
Click, clack—an unbroken rhythm of pieces being placed. In this impromptu setup, players must place their piece within ten counts.
So then, what exactly happened with Lady Agrippina?
I’m the one taking care of Eliza, but she’s been buried in self-study and has been saying that “Master hasn’t returned to his room.” The ever-lazy employer who seldom leaves the workshop embarking on an extended trip? What could have possibly happened?
Still, thanks to that, work has lightened up a little, allowing me to concentrate on making a little extra money like this or enjoy some time with Eliza sightseeing around the Imperial Capital.
However, by the third day, even for a long-lived species with their outrageous longevity, concern begins to creep in…
After all, regardless of how extraordinary a PC or how absurd an enemy the designer envisioned, death comes to all…
In any case, I ended up winning this round. Despite setting a heavy array, the ogre, who emphasized shock value in his maneuvers, cleanly defeated the Emperor without calling “just a moment” once and left happily, carrying the Empress piece, which was exaggeratedly endowed with a 70% increase in bust size inspired by a portrait.
Hmm, as expected, there’s always a demand for erotic figurines at any time, isn’t there. Even the statues of solemn-faced nudes have their own appeal…
Though I allowed the lewdness to cross my mind, in this world as well, going too far would invite trouble, so I restrained myself. Becoming obsessed with the realistic reproduction of thin veils would drop my sanity, so it’s best to avoid that.
Gently earning from my tactic game while distributing the pieces here and there, before I knew it, evening had fallen. Well, it’s about time to prepare for closing, take a bath, and perhaps join Eliza for dinner at the dining street. Even as we grow accustomed to a richer lifestyle, my younger sister, who comes from humble origins, still seems to feel more at peace with common street fare.
Cracking my neck, I was about to close shop when a solitary customer arrived at the table.
“Um, are you closing already?”
Her calm and flat voice resonated clearly amidst the clamor, reminiscent of a refreshing breeze cutting through a sweltering summer day.
The woman, who asked politely, was a cloaked priestess. A simple robe dyed black from flax, adorned with a pendant strung through a silver disk, marked her as a devotee of the “God of Night Shadows.” This goddess, who presides over the sacred moon, bears the virtues of tranquility, healing, and caution. Known for comforting and healing those who rest in the night’s dark and correcting the wrongdoing of those who use the shadows for ill deeds, she gathers followers even if not as widespread as the God of Fertility in the Threefold Empire. Her followers mainly consist of guards and knights on nocturnal patrol, as well as working nocturnal species.
“Do you sell pieces, or would you like to play a round?”
Though her face was largely hidden by the cowl—and the evening light also played its part, but the unnatural darkness inside seemed to be a blessing to conceal her features—she sat quietly without a word. Then, she produced a silver coin and picked up the pieces of the night watchman and standard bearer that she had seemingly chosen from the start.
The night watchman is a tenacious piece that cannot be taken as long as it stays in the initial tile, modeled after a elderly soldier sitting with a spear in hand. The standard bearer, another strong piece, can only advance once per game while pulling two adjacent pieces alongside, making it powerful in decisive moments and greatly feared in the hands of a skilled player.
Sharp taste she has. Since both pieces can wreak havoc when handled by a skillful player, they are quite challenging. Having been used to countless matches in the countryside where pastime options were scarce, there were ample times I was forced to endure the humiliation inflicted by these pieces.
Setting up the formation and quietly observing each other’s strategies resulted in an undefined yet vaguely visible battle array. Since I don’t stick to a pre-decided formation, I adjusted my initial structure flexibly to respond to her moves. However, it seems she also has that adaptability in her nature.
On my part, I set up a defensive formation with the Emperor and Crown Prince dispersed—since the Crown Prince can ascend to the throne if the Emperor retreats. Meanwhile, she deployed the Empress—an enhanced Emperor with knight-like mobility—shielding the Emperor in the front lines, with the Crown Prince silently waiting in the back as a forward-pushing setup.
Hmm, this feels something akin to a clash between the sixteenth century versus the eighth century. Like wars dominated by immortal entities during a time when longevity was irrelevant, this sort of construct was shaped by individual capabilities.
Rolling two dice to determine the turn sequence—alas, I got snake eyes—pawns advanced almost instantly. Quite the fast player, aren’t you?
Click, clack. A pleasant rhythm of pieces tapping the board danced through the Blue Sky Market colored with the sunset glow. Merchants who had finished closing their shops, pedestrians drawn by the lively sounds in the crowd, random tactic game enthusiasts who happened by, and idle onlookers gradually gathered around the game board.
An incredible speed chess match. From the opening to the endgame, nearly instantaneously, her moves returned without delay. Even with my “<Multiple Concurrent Thinking>” fully engaged to predict the sequence of moves, her speed was impressive enough to leave me awestruck.
Playing along with this fast pace wasn’t simply perseverance—given that nearly a dozen people had encircled us, backing out would be embarrassing. Though filled with anxiety about when I might blunder, there was no turning back now.
Still, this playstyle doesn’t belong to a long-lived species. Comparing it to my occasional matches with Lady Agrippina as a pastime, the hands were somewhat rougher. While no clear blunders were visible, a few moves seemed potentially problematic down the line.
In the final assault, the emperor and knights led by the standard bearer penetrated through the wall of pawns I had erected. All that remained were the imperial guard and the emperor. As the fortified line was broken, it brought to mind the end of a battle—but alas, the drawbacks of speed chess have begun to surface.
Before the losing move came, I tipped over the emperor piece in concession and allowed the crown prince to inherit the throne. Even the forward-charging emperor halted as its designated knight was caught by the imperial envoy protecting the crown prince. Though killing the envoy won’t result in the emperor’s demise, it might seem meaningless at first glance…
But delaying the move by one turn would have been quite sufficient. Since the crown prince still had escape routes open, retreating would force the emperor to pursue, isolating the knight and other reinforcements who had moved forward together. Afterward, the remaining pieces from my own side could encircle and finish the game.
“Ah.”
Her calm voice rang out in surprise. She had seemingly noticed the fortress quietly waiting at a potential escape route for the crown prince several moves ahead—capable of swapping positions with an emperor it has touched. Naturally, it could also swap with the already dethroned crown prince. Early in the game, it stood beside the emperor but, given the progression of battle, had been overlooked until now.
With this, the crown prince gains an extra move, creating an opportunity for other pieces to intervene. With the emperor unable to let the crown prince fall, retreat becomes inevitable. Naturally, this move doesn’t directly place the king in check, yet…
“…A losing move, it would seem.”
I suppose that about sums it up. Even if the emperor abdicates, reconstructing the disrupted formation is too labor-intensive and there simply isn’t time for such delays. If one forces the emperor forward without abdicating, moves made in pursuit of the crown prince have allowed the remaining pieces to take advantage elsewhere. In the end, it would take one less move to achieve victory, thus leading to checkmate.
Although the existence of the emperor and crown prince makes the game feel unnecessarily drawn out, ultimately this game’s “quirk” is how the desperate abdication equates to admitting a losing move. It feels as if the game itself warns the players against over-reliance on succession.
“Good game.”
Her delicate fingers pressed down on the emperor’s head, laying the emperor and crown prince to rest as the tricked hero who fell for the emperor’s scheme. The grand finale of heroes often ends this way, doesn’t it? The surrounding spectators, as is customary for hobbyists, sent a sparse applause before immediately engaging in a post-game analysis.
“Always here?”
She neatly put the pieces she bought away and stood up with the question, letting all complaints from the analysis session flow past her effortlessly.
“Often, when I have free time. Though I may not be here tomorrow, I expect to continue for a while longer.”
“Very well. I look forward to our rematch another day.”
Setting up replacement pieces for the analysis while letting her passage through the spectators clear, she left…
…However, that was exhausting. A fast game with each move lasting no more than five seconds truly takes a toll on the nerves. Sometimes, playing a game with a little deep thought—each time followed by deadly counterattacks—felt less tiresome than these matches with Lady Agrippina.
Ah, no, wait. I activated my ability and checked my status.
Wow, I’ve gained quite a bit of proficiency. Enough to pick up a minor trait or two…
Realizing that this was turning into a quite profitable side-job, both in terms of experience and income, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy inside. As I idly watched the busy hands engaged in the post-game analysis, pondering how long it would last, I continued to contemplate…the possibilities.
—
[Tips] The popularity of the tactic game. Due to the simplicity of its creation involving a basic board and pieces, it’s a widely loved pastime across the Threefold Empire. In an era lacking in modern entertainment, the game enjoys immense popularity, with well over half of the empire’s subjects able to play. Being incredibly cheap to acquire initial pieces and involving no ongoing cost, it’s perfect for time-passers. Some non-human species even squander their lives indulging in this hobby. Occasionally, high-stake challenge matches with substantial rewards emerge, supporting “professional” players who compete for a living. There are even some exclusively contracted individuals who receive large sums for their play…
Long ago, I just scribbled some settings for this game but have expanded on it. Collecting all the detailed pieces seems a bit daunting. The cheaper pieces are merely labeled functionally, akin to chess pawns.
Always grateful for feedback and critiques—it inspires and reinvigorates me.
Having received a review after a while felt wonderful indeed.
I hope to update at least twice more this week.
