Chương 11

The night passed in fragments. I spent two hours reviewing Dominion strategies on my slate, focusing on openings and mid-game transitions. Philip struck me as someone who'd been trained by tutors, so he was probably a lot more 'by the book' than most, and thus should be more predictable. At least, that's what I hoped. Sleep came… eventually. My dreams were filled with scenes of war, and some brief flashes of home. One second I would be fighting against Orcs and the next, I would be in someone's arms.

I'd look and find Charlotte smiling down at me. Unfortunately, it did not last. I woke just in time to silence my alarm, showered, and made it to the cafeteria before the morning rush. Looks like basic nutrient slop is back on the menu. I didn't know where or how Lysara managed to grab that above average food, but after having a taste, I couldn't go back to the normal stuff. Sobbing internally, I ate mechanically, my mind already running through possible game scenarios.

Lysara found me halfway through my second cup of something the menu optimistically called coffee. I optimistically renamed it to Liquid Suffering. How much did they dilute the beans? Emperor above…

"Look at what the cat dragged in," she smirked, sliding into the seat across from me, "Did you even sleep?"

"I… yeah."

"Poorly."

"What other way do we sleep these days?"

"Fair, fair," she chuckled.

"Are you ready for this afternoon then?" I slouched a little.

"Ready enough."

"That's not the same thing, and you know it." Lysara studied me with those striking green eyes of hers.

"Philip isn't just good at Dominion. He's ranked. Top fifty in the junior circuit last year." I stopped mid-bite. Oh boy.

"You didn't mention that yesterday."

"You didn't ask." She shrugged.

"I assumed you'd researched your opponent."

"I didn't think to look up his gaming record…" I shrugged sheepishly, mentally kicking myself. Lysara laughed.

"Jax, preparation is half the battle. Philip Aldric has been playing competitive Dominion since he was twelve, and his specialty is long-game attrition. He doesn't try to beat his opponents quickly, instead he prefers grind opponents down over dozens of turns until they make a mistake from exhaustion or lack of focus. Consider this tidbit a freebie."

"Great… Thanks for the heads up, if a little late. Any other encouraging news?" She absent-mindedly popped a slice of broccoli(?) into her mouth.

"He's also left-handed, if that helps."

"Damn! I wish we were playing the right-hand only variant of Dominion…." I grouched.

"Sorry cutie, other than that I've got nuthing." She stood, her amused eyes watching me as she gathered her tray.

"Good luck this afternoon though! I'll be rooting for you, so try not to lose if you can help it~" – The morning crawled by ever so slowly. I tried to study the extraction protocol readings Instructor Reyes had assigned, but my concentration kept slipping. Philip's ranking sat in my head like a splinter. I'd beaten plenty of good players back home, but the junior circuit was a different level entirely. Am I even good enough? I beat Charlotte, but she doesn't play competitively either… Agghhh.

I kept spiraling for another hour or two. At some time near noon, I heard a knock on my door.

"Coming!" Charlotte stood in the hallway, dressed in casual clothes rather than her uniform, and the change was striking. She wore a fitted gray top that matched her eyes and dark pants that emphasized both her height and ample curves. Huh, since coming here, I don't think I took a moment to properly take in her -or anyone else's- appearance. I blamed it in the whirlwind of the past few days and examined her properly.

Her silver hair was loose, falling past her shoulders in a way I hadn't seen before, her usual ponytail nowhere to be seen. She came up just under my chin, so probably around… five-feet-something in height? Cute. That's all that came to mind as I looked down at her. She blushed slightly and smirked when she noticed my attention. Cute, and dangerous.

"You could have just used your key," I said, covering for my wandering eyes.

"I wasn't sure if you were here, considering you weren't answering your messages." Oh, oops. She stepped into my room without waiting for an invitation and her eyes swept over the small space as if she was expecting someone else in the room.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I ate this morning."

"That's not what I asked."

"I'm… fine." Charlotte turned to face me, and something in her expression made me pause. She was serious.

"Jax."

"Yes?"

"Win." I blinked. The word hung between us for a moment before I nodded with a somewhat forced grin.

"I'm planning to."

"Good." She stepped closer. All of a sudden, I was acutely aware of her shampoo, and perfume. It smelled good. She smelled good. I was grateful I changed to a clean shirt.

"Because I'm adding some stakes to this."

"I thought me and Phillip were playing just for pride and intellectual satisfaction?"

"Those are Philip's stakes." Charlotte's silver eyes held mine, as she bit her lip.

"Mine are different."

"What did you have in mind?" I could feel my face heating up a little. Charlotte reached up and adjusted my collar, her fingers brushing against my neck in a way that made my thoughts extremely jittery. All of a sudden, all I could think of was my dream from last night.

"If you win," she said softly, tiptoeing to get closer to my face, "I'll give you a kiss~" I blinked, the mild heat on my face now a raging fire.

"That's..."

"Forward? Presumptuous? Inappropriate for a rest day activity?"

"I was going to say… motivating." I grinned, not pulling back. Charlotte laughed.

"I thought it might be. You respond well to incentives."

"Have me figured out I see. And if I lose?"

"Then you don't get a kiss!" She stepped back, that playful expression still on her face.

"Simple enough, right?"

"What if I want to negotiate for higher stakes?"

"Win first." Charlotte moved toward the door.

"Then we can discuss renegotiation. No pressure!" I followed Charlotte out, her words burning a hole through my thoughts. We arrived at the recreation commons a couple minutes before my match with Philip. While technically in the North Tower, the room was in the station's lower levels, which meant that few students ever ventured here except when needed. I had expected it to be mostly empty on a rest day. I was wrong. At least twenty people filled the space around the central Dominion table.

Some I recognized as my classmates from the Strategos Program. Belcher was there, looking marginally less exhausted than usual. Lysara was leaning against another table, crunching through a bag of snacks. Others were complete strangers, probably from other parts of the academy. Everyone was dressed in casual clothes. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. I noticed Vera near the center, and waved at her as I stepped forward.

"Jax." She intercepted me before I could reach the table.

"A word."

"Now?"

"Yes, now." She guided me to a quieter corner, her grip on my arm firm but not painful. I felt Charlotte's gaze drilling into my back.

"You remember the Entoli Society? The invitation I extended?"

"Your Dominion club, yeah. I remember."" Society. And good. Because half of them are here." Vera's eyes motioned towards the crowd.

"Word spread about your… little disagreement with Philip yesterday. They want to see their newest member in action." I smirked.

"That same newest member who hasn't actually attended a single meeting yet?"

"Details, details." She released my arm.

"The point is, you're not just playing Philip anymore. My word alone was not enough to convince everyone, so consider this as an entrance examination into the Society in addition to your personal bet with Phillip."

"No pressure, then."" Plenty of pressure. That's the point. Don't try to impress them. Just play your game. They'll see what they need to see." She walked away before I could ask more questions, melting into the crowd with practiced ease. I made my way to the game table, where Philip was already waiting. He looked relaxed, like someone who'd done this a hundred times before. Which, apparently, he had. I kicked myself again for not researching my opponent properly.

"Phillip."

"Jax." He gestured to the empty seat across from him.

"Ready?"

"Ready." The Dominion table was a high-end model. As I sat down, the game interface materialized between us and everyone else in the room. A procedurally generated map showed a fractured continent, scattered resource nodes, and the fog of war obscuring most of the terrain.

"Standard rules," Philip said.

"No bots, four-hour total session time limit, victory by elimination or point threshold. Any preferences on starting positions?" I tapped my chin in thought.

"Let's do random assignment."

"Agreed." He tapped the interface, and the map spun before settling. I got the southwestern peninsula, which had defensible terrain, moderate resources, and limited expansion options. Philip got the northeastern highlands. Exposed borders but decent mining and expansion opportunities. A balanced start. Now it was all up to each of us.

"Observers ready?" Philip addressed the crowd without looking at them. A murmur of assent rippled through the room. A small bag of snacks was deposited on my lap by Lysara. I nodded at her in thanks.

"Then let's begin." The opening turns passed in the same way they always did. I established my capital, deployed scouts to map the surrounding territory, and began building up the economy that would fuel my mid-game. Nothing flashy. From my scouting reports, Philip mirrored my approach almost exactly. Economy first, military second. By turn fifteen, we'd both established secondary settlements and begun probing each other's borders with light recon.

"You're playing conservatively," Philip observed during a brief pause.

"I expected more aggression."

"What's the point of spending resources on things that won't give me an advantage? All it would do is drain my economy."

"Fair enough." He moved a scout unit forward.

"Though some would say aggression creates opportunities that conservative play simply can't."" Some would be wrong when playing against you." The crowd shifted around us. I caught glimpses of whispered conversations as people analyzed our positions. By turn twenty-five, the board had developed into a classic positional struggle. Philip controlled more territory and held three settlements to my two. However, my economy was more efficient.

I had invested heavily in infrastructure while he'd spread himself thinner over a larger area.

"Interesting choice," Philip said, studying the economic overlay.

"You're betting on quality over quantity." I shrugged.

"It's worth it to invest in existing stuff rather than expand too much. More territory means more borders to defend and more points of failure."

"All the worse when they fall. Unless you have the military to secure them?"

"Do you?" Philip smiled.

"We'll see." Turn thirty brought the first real engagement. Philip's recon screen pushed into my northern territory, testing my defenses. I countered with a small force, with a focus on keeping his units blind to my strength rather than destroying them. The skirmish lasted four turns. By the end, he had lost three recon units to my two. A marginal victory. From what I saw, Philip didn't particularly react to the loss. He absorbed the fact, readjusted, and continued with his plan.

"You're patient," I observed.

"Patience wins far often than not." He repositioned his remaining scouts.

"Aggression feels good, but patience always brings compounding benefits later on."" If there is a later." Turn forty. We were officially in the mid-game, and the endgame was slowly becoming visible. I had been building toward a mobile strike force; fast units that could group up quickly and hit hard before dispersing. Philip had taken a different stance, building a more stable defensive network with walls and regularly placed soldiers. Our approaches were becoming clear.

My goal was to pick my battles and strike at any weak points he may have. He, on the other hand, wanted to control territory, limit my options, and force me to attack prepared -and fortified- positions. The real question was who's plan would succeed in the end.

"You know," Philip said conversationally, "I looked up your record after yesterday's class. I was quite surprised to notice you didn't have one." I reddened a little.

"I just played casually back home. Nothing ranked."

"That's unusual. Most people who argue like you did have at least something to back their words up with."

"I have opinions." I shrugged again.

"They don't require credentials, last I checked."

"No, they don't." Philip advanced his defensive line by one hex, subtly closing off one of my potential attack angles. Dangit. I reorientated.

"But credentials help people take you more seriously. In this room, in this program, hell, in this Empire, bloodlines and achievements matter. In fact, I would argue they are the bare minimum. Being right isn't enough if no one listens. You need either the blood or the deeds to back it up. And you have neither." I bristled. It's not my fault I'm born a commoner.

"Is that advice or a threat?"

"It's an observation." He met my eyes across the table.

"You're good, I'll admit. Better than I expected. But good doesn't guarantee success. Not here." I processed his words while studying the board. Philip… wasn't wrong, as much as I hated to admit it. The social dynamics of noble society weren't something I could ignore indefinitely, no matter how much I wanted to. Thoughts for later. Right now, in this moment, the only thing that mattered to me was the game. Winning, specifically.

"Your defensive line has a gap," I smirked. For the first time, I saw a small crack in Phillip's otherwise immaculate composure.

"Huh? Where?" I didn't answer, simply launching my strike. Take that. I had been building this attack for the last six turns, rotating my units in and out of the fog to make him think that I only had a small force in the area. Three mobile units converged from different angles simultaneously. Philip's defensive network was strong, but it was only really designed to handle frontal assaults. My forces came from the flanks, exploiting the seam between his northern and central positions.

For three glorious turns, everything worked. His defenders scrambled to reposition, but they were too slow and I massacred them with glee. I destroyed two fortified positions and captured one of the resource nodes feeding his economy. The point differential shifted sharply in my favor. The crowd murmured. Someone even made a small sound of approval.

"Well played," Philip nodded. His voice was still calm, but his gaze had sharpened. He was giving his full attention to the game now.

"I underestimated you."

"You assumed I was aggressive because I argued aggressively yesterday."

"I did." He began reorganizing his forces and pulling back from overextended positions.

"It won't happen again." The next ten turns became a different game entirely. Philip stopped trying to control territory and started hunting my mobile forces through the fog. His defensive network transformed into a pursuit grid. He sent heavy units to push my forces around and funnel my strike teams into kill zones. I adapted, but each adaptation cost me something. A unit here, a turn there. Slowly, my momentum bled away with every exchange. Our score difference began to narrow once again.

By turn sixty, I was still ahead, but several things had been reversed. Philip's economic advantage from his extra settlement was starting to compound. Every turn that passed without a decisive victory made my position that much worse.

"Already thinking about the endgame?" Philip observed as I moved my forces around.

"Everyone thinks about the endgame."

"Not everyone. Some people play Dominion turn by turn, reacting to immediate threats. You're trying to see several turns ahead." He moved a heavy unit into a blocking position. I cursed, silently.

"The problem is, I'm doing the same thing. And I have more resources to work with." He was right, and the math was staring me in the face. My strike had been successful, but not nearly decisive enough. Philip had absorbed the damage and stabilized. Now his advantages were reasserting themselves. I needed another breakthrough. Something that would crack his position wide open before his economy literally crushed me underfoot. The opportunity I was looking for appeared on turn sixty-five.

Philip's grid had a timing vulnerability where his heavy units would be out of position for exactly two turns during a supply rotation. If I could concentrate my forces and punch through during that window, I could reach his secondary settlement and potentially eliminate it entirely. It was risky. The attack would require committing almost everything I had, leaving my own territory exposed. If it failed, Philip would roll over whatever would be left of my defenses and the game would be over within, like, ten turns.

But, if it succeeded, I would have eliminated his strongest economic advantage and put us back on even footing. I began repositioning my forces. Most of my actions were subtle moves that wouldn't telegraph my intentions. Philip watched me, calculating, but he didn't seem to notice the pattern forming, to my relief. Turn sixty-seven. His supply rotation began. Two turns until the window opened. Turn sixty-eight. My forces were in position. Turn sixty-nine. He was exposed. I launched the attack.

My mobile units surged forward, racing through the gap in Philip's defensive grid. His heavy forces were out of position, exactly as I'd calculated. The path to his secondary settlement lay open. Victory was right in front of me. Then, Philip smiled.

"There you are," he said softly.

"I was wondering when you would see it." Next turn, he made a single move and, all of a sudden, his heavy forces weren't out of position at all. They had fallen one move back instead of moving laterally like I thought. Now, Philip pulled them forward, forming a crescent around my attacking force, closing in from three sides. Fuck. The vulnerability hadn't been real. He had created it, shown it to me, and waited for me to bite with everything I had.

"The thing about aggressive players," Philip said, his arrogant voice carrying through the suddenly silent room, "is that they see opportunities everywhere. Give them an opening, and they. just. can't. help. themselves. They have to take it." I stared at the board, looking for any way out. The numbers were brutal. If his formation closed, I would lose seventy percent of my military in a single engagement. The game would effectively be over.

"Your move, Jax."