This time, Aegon did not rush to shout for blood right from the opening as he had before. He slowly straightened in his chair, picked up an ivory piece, and set it firmly in its starting position at the center of the board.
Corlys glanced up at him-this was a perfectly conventional opening, no different from those of the previous three games.
It seemed the boy still intended to play with the same fiery aggression, though his three losses had apparently made him rein himself in a little this time. Corlys thought nothing of it and methodically arranged his defenses.
As in the previous games, he intended to let the boy charge a few times, wait until he battered himself bloody, then calmly finish him off.
Then Aegon made his move.
"Kill!"
It was the same clear shout, the same heedless recklessness.
An ivory piece shot deep into Corlys's defenses like an arrow loosed from a bow, directly threatening his flank stronghold. Corlys shook his head slightly-another advance heedless of the cost. With practiced ease, he moved an obsidian piece and captured the reckless ivory one.
But this time, he realized something was wrong. The captured piece had occupied a crucial point in his defensive line, blocking the main piece he had intended to reposition next.
And while that "sacrifice" held him up, Aegon's second piece attacked from another direction-not in a frontal assault, but at an angle, skirting his defenses and striking straight at his rear.
Corlys's pupils contracted sharply. He looked down at the board, his fingers freezing in midair for a moment. This was not mere recklessness. It was a killing move wrapped in recklessness.
Every fiercely aggressive attack concealed an ambush, laying the groundwork for the next charge.
His seemingly heedless sacrifices actually left every captured