Chapter 152: The Drinking Game (2)
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A white, pure and spotless fortress.
This spotless and virtuous white citadel has been invaded by hordes of dark evil for some time now.
Vikir. And the black cavalry, led by Vikir, split into several lines to attack the White Citadel.
The Paladins of Dolores were helpless in front of this mysterious movement, which was like a black cavalry unit, digging through the smallest of cracks, destroying the entire inside, and then breaking through the gap on the other side.
'This isn't a level 2, did he trick me!
Dolores rallied her remaining troops and reinforced the walls.
The strongholds and outposts were made a little tighter, and the fortresses on the four corners of the city also had thicker walls.
But once again, the black cavalry broke through the snow-white walls and trampled on them.
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What used to be white is now empty, and black is taking its place.
"Oh, no! If we let any more in, we're going to...!
Dolores rallied her best troops, reinforced the walls of the citadel, and secured the passage.
The last bastion. The last line. A land like Althoran that guarantees unconditional victory if it can be defended.
...However, the premise is 'as long as you can keep it'.
Once again, Vikir's black soldiers bared their fangs.
Black auras, shaped like awls, pierce through white walls and ravaged the interior.
The white land inside that Dolores had defended so steadfastly was eventually covered in the black marks of Vikir.
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It all ended with the black hound inside the protective box with its mouth wide open.
"Adari."
Vikir took the saint's arm in his mouth.
Now, if he bit down hard enough, her right arm would snap off.
The same fate would eventually befall her left arm, then her right leg, then her left leg, then her torso, and finally her neck.
Sweat began to trickle down Dolores's forehead as she realized that the entire group was about to be annihilated.
'What can I do? What can I do....'
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see a way out of the black monster's jaws.
The feeling of defeat is already setting in.
And Dolores couldn't bring herself to admit it.
After all, all go players are competitive.
She had been through heaven and hell many times in the short time she had been in the game.
And today, Dolores had met the right man.
"It's like a handshake at the end of the move."
The attack on Vikir's mind continued.
Meanwhile, Vikir was a little surprised.
'... In today's world, this is probably a level 5.'
It wasn't that Dolores was a bad player, but rather that she was a better player than he expected.
Vikir had played against quite a few people on the battlefield in boring confrontations before his regression.
One of the sergeants, who was a good player, said to him, "How's your level?
'What's your level of skill? I'm about a level one. Of course, I was rated before the war.'
He said that at Vikir level, he would be at level 2 or 3.
He's a first-rate, and Vikir's skills are only slightly below his own.
'Hahaha, after the War of Destruction against the Demon World, there were no organizations or tournaments to certify one's strength.'
Is that why? Vikir thought that he would be around the level 2 range, but it seemed that with proper verification, he would be much higher than that.
And eventually.
...just like that!
The last stone hit the board, and Dolores's head dropped.
"...lost."
Regardless of defeat. It doesn't even make sense to calculate the house.
Then, exclamations followed from around the area.
"Wow! This is the first time I've seen a saint give instructions in Go!"
"Ms. President, didn't you appear in the newspapers in your youth? As a Go prodigy."
"Even when there was a Go club in Colosseo, our president was the one who single-handedly massacred the magic tower's Go club and the Varangian's Go club... ... How can this happen?"
Since the other person is Dolores, everyone is cautious about what they say.
It was a result that would not have been strange even if there had been harsh evaluations such as 'it was torn apart' and 'it was ripped apart'.
Vikir was just about to clean up the board.
"Now, wait! One more game, one more game, this time in shorthand!"
Dolores stretched out her hands and clung to Vikir's.
By nature, all Go players are competitive, especially those who are called geniuses.
If nothing else, Dolores had a competitive streak in this area.
In the end, Vikir accepted Dolores' offer.
The game is called Shogi (快棋). The rules are simple. You have three seconds to decide on your next move.
This would dramatically reduce the time it takes to play a game.
Vikir and Dolores had moved to the front of Dolores's bed so as not to disturb the other students' drinking.
The students, however, followed closely behind them with their drinks in hand, sitting in a circle around the board where the game was being played.
Apparently it was fun to watch.
"This is surprisingly fun. Go."
"Yeah, I used to get bored watching my dad play."
"I don't know, did you just put the boss and Vikir in a tense situation?"
"I don't know, but... I do know that it wasn't a close game."
On the battlefield, where everyone's eyes are on the saintess's white and Vikir's black, they clash ferociously.
...Bam!
...click!
...click!
...click!
...click!
...click!
...click!
...click!
Black and white flashed across the board at breakneck speed.
Then a dry voice escaped from Vikir's mouth.
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"All clear."
The moment Dolores heard those words, she thought seriously.
" ... Should I turn it upside down?
It was a violent thought that I had never had in the past dozen years.
But as she felt the stares around her, she couldn't help but say the words in a stifled voice.
"... I lost."
The students around them, who had been watching the fight without breathing, let out a collective gasp.
Sinclair broke out in a cold sweat.
"I thought I was pretty good at Go, but... can't read my hyung's moves."
Piggy nodded in agreement.
"In the first place, Vikir's style isn't the style nowadays. None of the current knights play like this, and it's obviously not a good move, so how can he play like this?"
Dolores, on the other hand, could not hide her bewilderment.
Go is all about building a house.
But Vikir was acting like he didn't care about the house.
It was a mess, a dog fight.
Instead of building his own house, Vikir was all-in on destroying his opponent's house.
Vikir bites and bites and bites like a madman with no backbone, and Dolores ends up with both hands and feet.
"...."
Vikir smiled bitterly at Dolores, who shook her head in disbelief.
As I have said before, those who have not lived through war will never understand those who have.
When the age of destruction came, there was no point in building a house or raising a family.
You never knew when the demons would attack and wipe out your family.
The only way to live was to roam the battlefield and destroy the enemy's strongholds first.
It was this atmosphere, momentum, and values that created Vikir's play style, but Dolores and the other students didn't realize it.
"Ugh, I don't know much about Go, but I can tell he's a mad dog."
"It's a mad dog style... Well, it has its own charm."
Tudor and Bianca nodded in agreement.
But to Dolores, none of this chatter fell on her ears.
Who am I, where am I, and where am I going?
After all, everyone has a board game to be proud of.
We all have a board game we're proud of. ...until we get robbed by the wrong person.
And once that happens, your whole world is turned upside down.
No matter how undefeated you've been, you can lose all your confidence in a single defeat.
In the end, Dolores was forced to swallow her punishment once again.
"...gulp."
A burp comes from drinking too much soda.
Dolores tried desperately to hide her bulging belly and burp.
Then.
A hiccup!
She started to hiccup.
"...What the hell?"
Dolores turned her head to look at the students around her.
All of them were smiling from ear to ear.
Dolores quickly checked the label on the glass bottle of soda.
Sure enough, it contained too much alcohol to be called a drink.
"You guys tricked me... hiccup!"
Dolores's face began to grow redder and redder.
She feels hot and sweaty.
In a room stacked high with empty liquor bottles, the air was getting hotter and hotter, with red-faced boys and girls mingling with each other.
... Just then.
Thud, thud, thud, thud.
Footsteps began to pound outside the door.
Dolores felt the drunkenness that had been creeping up on her a moment ago begin to fade.
"Here comes the supervisor!"
Everyone in the room jolted awake at the sound of Dolores' words.
It was as if they had been splashed with cold water.
"Bottles! Hide the bottles first!"
"Ouch! The ceiling panel suddenly won't open, and the window is too narrow to get out!"
"Where do we hide the boys?"
"In the bed, under the covers, everyone!"
"Ha, but what about the men and women?"
"Don't be ridiculous! He's a man after all... ... ."
"Shut up and turn off the lights! Turn off the lights first!"
Everyone was in a panic.
And in that atmosphere.
...Bang!
I heard the sound of a key opening the door.
Click.
The supervisor entered the room.
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