The morning after the Shadow Hall encounter came without warning.
Yuuji awoke to a symbol glowing on the inside of his door—
a rook-shaped mark burned into the wood, pulsing with faint red energy.
Clara examined it first.
"It's a trace-summon. One-way. You can't reject it."
Mira crossed her arms.
"So we're officially inside their game now."
Ayaka cracked her knuckles.
"Great. I was ready for round two anyway."
A second letter had been placed at the foot of Yuuji's bed.
It wasn't magical—just ink, but the handwriting was sharp and deliberate.
"You've stepped onto the Trial Board.
Your first match begins tonight.
Opponent: House Wightcross
Format: Three-on-three
Setting: Blind Arena
Win condition: Checkmate the opposing captain... or survive until dawn."
Mira's eyes narrowed.
"House Wightcross... they were disbanded last year. They're supposed to be gone."
Clara closed the letter carefully.
"Which means we're fighting ghosts."
Yuuji stood up, pulled on his jacket, and said nothing.
His eyes were already focused—
like he was placing invisible pieces on a board no one else could see.
Scene shift – that night
The Blind Arena was nothing like the official dueling fields.
No crowds.
No magical shields.
Just a massive stone room underground, lit by a cold red moonlight cast from enchanted crystals in the walls.
The moment Team Checkmate entered, the air grew colder.
At the far end, their opponents waited.
Three figures—cloaked, masked, utterly still.
One of them stepped forward.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Carrying a massive iron blade across his back.
His mask was carved like a knight's helmet.
And when he spoke—
his voice echoed with something not entirely alive.
"Welcome, House Checkmate...
to the Trial of the First Move."
Yuuji stepped forward onto the cracked stone floor of the Blind Arena. The air was freezing, damp, and strangely muffled—like sound itself was being held back. Across from him, the masked trio of House Wightcross stood unmoving. A faint red fog had begun to seep from the walls, curling around everyone's feet.
A voice echoed through the chamber—not spoken, but pressed into their minds.
"Fog phase initiating. Visual range: 30 percent. Magical signature tracking disabled. Combat begins on sound and presence."
Ayaka blinked. "Did they just turn off magic detection?"
Clara was already adjusting her stance, gloves glowing faintly. "It's a battlefield designed for sensory deprivation. This isn't about raw strength. It's about instincts."
Mira's eyes locked on the closest opponent, one with two daggers drawn and moving in short, stuttering steps like a glitching shadow. "Then we'll fight with those instincts."
Yuuji raised his hand, calm as ever. "Standard triangle. Clara stays back. Mira goes right. Ayaka, bait left. I'll force their captain into a response."
Without another word, they moved.
The fog thickened as they split, and in an instant, the field became chaos. Shapes flickered in and out of visibility. Footsteps echoed from directions that made no sense. Someone's blade hit stone—then silence—then a crash.
Yuuji moved low and quiet, eyes half-closed, relying on breathing, temperature, memory. The masked knight from earlier appeared through the haze like a ghost, blade resting across his shoulders.
"You lead them well," the knight said, voice distant and metallic. "But do you bleed like they did?"
He vanished into the fog before finishing his sentence.
Yuuji's eyes narrowed. So they'd faced other teams. This wasn't their first hunt.
Somewhere behind him, Mira clashed with the dual-blade assassin, their blades ringing for just a moment before vanishing again into silence.
Ayaka's roar followed seconds later. "Come on, you edgy bastards! You call that a swing?!"
Clara's voice came through telepathically, sharp and fast. "They're isolating us. They're not trying to win—just break formation."
Yuuji stopped. Then smiled coldly.
"Then we won't give them a formation to break."
He took a slow breath, and for a moment, let the fog wrap around him. Not resisting. Not fighting it. Just vanishing into it.
Letting himself become part of the board.
He wasn't a target now.
He was the trap.
A low rumble echoed through the fog. One of the masked Wightcross fighters emerged—leaping directly at Ayaka from the left side, both hands gripping a curved glaive wreathed in flickering black mist.
Ayaka met the charge head-on.
Metal slammed into enchanted gauntlets with a sound like thunder. The impact cracked the stone beneath her feet, but she held. She grinned, the fog swirling wildly around her.
"Finally found you."
She swung upward with both fists. The masked fighter blocked, but not fast enough—her second strike crashed into his ribs, sending him sprawling back into the red fog.
Another opponent tried to flank her—but that's when Clara moved.
From a blind corner near the wall, she raised one hand, chanting in near silence. Tiny shards of ice shimmered around her fingers, then launched out in a tight spiral. The fog froze in an instant—cutting a clear path through the arena.
In that moment, Yuuji struck.
He appeared behind the captain.
No noise. No warning.
Only presence.
The masked knight had been waiting for a charge—but not for silence.
"You're not the first to fight in the dark," Yuuji said calmly, voice just behind the knight's ear.
The man spun, greatsword slashing through the mist.
Yuuji ducked under the blade, stepped in close, and pressed two fingers against the side of the knight's mask.
A pulse of raw kinetic force exploded from his hand—focused and surgical.
The knight was thrown backward, crashing into one of the stone pillars with a shattering boom.
His mask cracked.
Blood appeared at the edge of his mouth.
But he stood up.
Slowly.
His voice was distorted now. Lower. Less human.
"You're better than the last captain. But this board isn't yours to command."
His blade burned now—black fire wrapping around the metal like living shadow.
Mira appeared beside Yuuji, panting slightly, her blade slick with dark energy.
"One down. The rogue is fast, but predictable."
Yuuji didn't look at her.
He was watching the captain.
He didn't blink.
"Clara. How much time left?"
Her voice echoed telepathically.
"Fifteen minutes until dawn."
Yuuji's smile was razor-thin.
"Plenty of time to flip the board."
The air thickened, pulsing like a heartbeat. The Wightcross captain raised his blade, and the flames around it turned darker—almost purple now, as if something inside the steel had begun to wake up.
Three identical shapes stepped out of him.
Clones. Shadows. Not illusions—each one radiating its own twisted mana signature.
Mira tensed immediately. "Real bodies. I can feel them move."
Ayaka didn't wait for confirmation. "Three-on-three now, huh?" She slammed her fists together. "Let's dance."
Yuuji held her back with a glance.
"No. They're not meant to fight fair. Watch."
The three clones didn't charge.
They surrounded Clara.
Clara stepped back, calm, but her aura flared around her like frost on glass.
Yuuji understood it instantly.
"They're not attacking her body."
Clara gasped, eyes fluttering. Her stance staggered. The clones moved around her in slow, circling motions—whispering things in a language that didn't reach the ears, only the mind.
"They're trying to break focus," she hissed. "Mental desync."
Ayaka's fists ignited with orange mana. "Oh hell no—"
"Don't rush in," Yuuji snapped.
His tone cut through the fog harder than any blade.
Ayaka froze mid-step.
Yuuji moved.
He closed the distance to Clara, placed a hand over her shoulder, and whispered something none of the others heard.
A pulse of clean white energy burst outward from his palm, clearing the fog in a wide radius.
The shadows vanished.
Clara blinked hard and exhaled. "What was that?"
"A King's Authority," Yuuji said softly. "Emergency field override."
Mira stared at him. "You've been holding onto that spell?"
"I was waiting for a situation where it mattered."
The knight captain stepped forward again, dragging his sword now.
Even through the mask, Yuuji could feel the smile beneath.
"You know the spells of a royal. But do you know the price?"
"I do."
Yuuji reached into his coat.
And pulled out the cracked knight piece from the Bishop girl.
He tossed it to the floor.
It shattered.
And the fog stopped moving.
Everyone froze.
Even the enemy.
Yuuji spoke calmly.
"I'm not just a King in name. I've already made my first sacrifice."
Clara looked at him.
Mira's mouth tightened.
Ayaka blinked.
The shadows around the enemy captain recoiled, pulling in tighter like instincts under pressure.
Yuuji lifted his hand.
"This trial's over."
He clenched his fist.
A wave of magic burst from beneath his feet, clean and fast and pure—severing the remaining connections on the board like a blade through old string.
The light touched the enemy captain—
and the mask cracked fully.
He dropped to one knee.
Not dead.
Not unconscious.
But checkmated.