V2 Chapter 27

Pride pushed me to play up to 3 Blindfold ROC matches a day. A Blindfold ROC match was average around four to five hours long, and depend on Pride’s mood, the matches could last as long as eleven hours. The length of these Blindfold ROC matches made me glad that AG beat us in that gruesome 6 hours long match.

Normally, people would say, “Yup, the next time we would not make that many mistakes and allow the match to go so long.” Merleon and FY were adamant about team training for that kind of scenario where the match seemed to be impossible to end. Those two madmen wrote a training program for our entire team to cope up with such lengthy and punishingly long battles. Now, I appreciated those training more than ever. I knew how to deal with that kind of battle.

Every day, when my Blindfold matches with Pride ended and we returned to our respective room in the villa, I moved to a different time plane, a much slower one, and continued my training with my General Staff there. Even though I could not feel fatigued or headache, days and days of nothing but mindless Blindfold ROC wore my heart out.

On Earth, ROC was just a sizable part of my life. It was not everything. But now, it was everything because everything that was important to me was riding on it for the first time. In this upcoming ROC game, I could not afford to lose…

Yet, I could not see myself winning…

My enemies were Gods and Demon Lords. My enemies could warp reality. They were difficult to kill and to destroy. Their existences were like a cheat code inside a game, the kind of cheat code that made a player became invincible and unbeatable. Beings like Pestilence, even as dumb as he was, they wipe out an entire kingdom with a tiny sneeze. The only way I could win against that kind of cheat code was predicting their thought and action correctly. It was as if I was building a house of card.

Those stupid people of dreamland have warned me about this in that Summit.

One tiny mistake and I am out

It was hard for me to take any risk now more than ever. Nobody was there to watch my back now, and playing safe was not my forte. Playing safe made me predictable. I needed people to fill the shoes of FY, Merleon, Fantasy, and Misery. Or at least, they must be able to accomplish 40% of what my usual casts were capable of. For that reason alone, I needed a lot of failsafe options but above all, a reliable alternative that I could always trust. Pride was that reliable alternative if everything was heading toward the path that I have predicted. Therefore, if I messed up Pride’s training, my plan was fated to doom.

But I had to worry about Pride’s training later, my own training came first in priority.

Blindfold ROC was created from one-on-one ROC format. The politics aspect of the game was removed and the result of the match was determined with battles of cold arms. And thus, the most important skill in Blindfold ROC was the complete makeup of a field commander and a general.

Other than Faugus, Isonos, and Sasengun, the rest of my General Staff was not particularly doing a great job as my teachers in fielding battles as a commander.

Searek, the Derange was the prime example of a bad explainer and talker despite being an infamous general of his time. He was more of a person of action. His charisma stemmed from his actions, not speeches. His accomplishments came from his strength and instincts, thus he made a terrible teacher. Worse, Searek was an instinctive gambler with the success rate of 50/50, always deploying a major number of his troops as suicide chargers for smaller elite units to kill the enemy’s general.

Ember, the Mad Saint, he made a worse commander than Searek. Despite being responsible for the One Hundred Years War, he has never stepped out of his HQ on Lakeshore Isle. He fought that war with only a bunch of theories, know-how knowledge and the zeal of his followers. Lynx, though he knew about amphibian warfare, his forte was politics. And I certainly did not expect myself to fight amphibian warfare on the Northern Continent. Making people swim in frozen water, especially in a winter season, sounded like a great recipe for troop mutiny and desertion.

For such reasons, I had to rely on Faugus, Isonos and Sasengun’s knowledge most of the time.

Isonos often venerated me as “A rare genius that appears in millennia.”

But, no, I wasn’t. He was. The moment when I taught Isonos about the Strategic Military Spell in ROC, his eyes lit up and he lamented that he was a Garuda who was born in the wrong era. The Strategic Military Spells were the equivalent of the early-day-mortars on Earth. Without the need of my explanation, Isonos already managed to grasp the strategic importance of establishing aerial supremacy in this current setting. Isonos realized and understood one of the most important aspects of modern warfare on his own.

Isonos’ appearance was a great contrast to the appearance of a normal Garuda. Similarly to most orcs, the Garudas viewed themselves as the Children of Wonten. But unlike the orcs who were born with a stout figure, hardy muscle, and brutish face, the Garudas were like a perfect fusion between an elf and a great hawk, elegance and majestic.

But elegance and majestic were the furthest words to describe Isonos’ figure.

Isonos was born defected. His eyes were misaligned, tiny and reddened with unspoken insanity and hatred for the world. His beak was not golden like the normal Garuda, milky white, twisted and splintered. He had two wings but one was a meter wide, much shorter than that of a normal Garuda, crooked and beaten whereas the other was as tiny as a ten years old child’s hand. Isonos’ legs had a grotesque atmosphere around them, bent and deformed, a result of his a brittle bone syndrome. When he was alive, Isonos could only move around with crutches and watched the other Garuda flew on the sky. Now he was dead, inside my dreamland, he moved around on a wheelchair.

Isonos was the earliest to understand why I created Blindfold ROC and not 3D-Realistic-ROC whereas I would lead my troops with a first person POV. Isonos folded his bigger wing. He cupped his crooked and deformed fists to his heart respectfully. “Teacher, though I do not understand your greater intention, I would like to advise that fighting multiple fronts at the same time would have dire consequences,” spoke Isonos.

Isonos has correctly predicted that the reason why I commanded my troops base on reports and feedbacks of my helpers. Sometimes I wished that these brain-dead Demon Lords were at the very least about 20% as smart as Isonos. If they were, they would never pick a fight with me.

“I have considered all of my paths and options. It always came down to this. A war wages on multiple theatres. When they realized that they could not win a face to face battle against me, they will be sneaky. My enemies would fight me in places where my eyes could not see them.” I replied to Isonos. “I’m terribly sorry for involving you in such a scenario.”

“No, teacher. Speak such word no more. It’s our greatest fortune to be able to meet and follow your path. Besides if such a future was inevitable as you have predicted, then it is our job and greatest honor to aid you to overcome it.” When Isonos looked at me and spoke such lines, I felt like I could win any war and any battle if Isonos were to one to lead my troops to battles.

He wasn’t and he won’t, that was my greatest regret.

My training with my General Staff saw very little improvement at first. It was very difficult to keep track of multiple objectives and units at the same time, as I have learned. Sasengun suggested that I should properly train my operators and helpers first.

“Shandorei, no matter how smart a captain of a ship you are, if your men failed to execute your orders, your ship will sink sooner or later.” Her past experience of commanding an armada showed. Sasengun volunteered to train my operators and helpers. She also suggested that she would join the rank of my operators in the matches with Pride for references.

Faugus was the perfect match for Blindfold ROC. His résumé and fame could not match that of Sasengun or Isonos, in fact, Faugus was a literal no name in the history of Escana. Despite that, he was the perfect teacher for this Blindfold ROC.

Faugus, he was a Kobold, one of the intelligent monster races. The progenitor of the Kobold was once a dwarf before he was hexed and turned into a Kobold. Reason? He grabbed the eleventh Valkyria’s hand and proposed to her after he met her in a Divine Dream. There was no better reason to be hexed on Escana than that. Anyone was brave enough to do court the Valkyria had to answer to Niwdar first.

Faugus observed my struggle against Pride throughout our first ten matches. Then, he approached me.

“Shandorei, imagine that you are fighting a battle in total darkness. You could not see your enemy but your enemy could see you. What would you do?” The old kobold asked the damn question that nobody has asked me.

“Gather my men, group up, focus on survive first,” I answered instantly. It was like a bulb has been lit inside my mind.

“And how would you fight that enemy?”

“Feel her attacks to determine her movement and position. Set traps, ambush.”

“I am glad that my humble opinion could help you, Shandorei.”

Faugus suggested me cutting down on movement and mobility, and instead focusing on unity and defense. It was a survive-first-anything-else-come-later strategy, a most familiar strategy of the intelligent monster races that were viewed as the common enemies of the intelligent races. Their strategies have always been about the survival of their kinds.

If I made any improvement in playing Blindfold ROC, I showed Pride only about 30% if it. There was no need to show all of my cards to her so early. Playing Blindfold ROC with Pride felt like a completely different game from playing it with my General Staff. It boiled down to three reasons. Firstly, I had no intention of making my General Staff became good or great at playing an oversimplified war because I needed them to help to fight a realistic one. Secondly, my General Staff would not talk trash to me. Lastly, I was dealing with a monster that I created.

I was sure that Pride was among the best one on one ROC pro-gamer that I have ever faced. Her mechanic skills were solid. Worse, she learned all of my moves and tactics, meaning she was good at reacting and predicting my moves. Pride made improvements and changes upon the study materials that I have provided her. I literally created my own monster.

But if I could beat her, I knew I could at least win a multiple-theatres war.

“You think you can beat me at this laughable level of control?” Pride asked. Recently, her question sounded exactly like the kind I would ask.

“Hah,” I scoffed, “Keep talking and I will BEAT YOUR ASS.”

We kept playing as the 5000th match drew near. All of those matches, the only reason I won them was that Pride allowed me to win.

I have never shown Pride my hands. I have never shown Pride the lessons and improvement that I drew from my training with my General Staff. At first, Pride was livid. She resented me for how I treated her as if she was not on my level despite everything. But slowly, Pride discovered that it was because she told me, “I only need 13 years to outdo you,” that I added my additional clauses and stopped revealing my ballooning bag of tricks. Only then, she realized that I was driving her mad on purpose. On the dawn of the 4997th match, Pride freed herself from my illusion. She stopped gloating her best moves in front of my face. A little bit late, but it was better late than never.

On the dawn of the 5000th match, Pride told me, “If you have any trick left, this is the time.” She then returned to her seat, fully focus and ready.

I gave her my reply, a smile. I revealed to her my dream team, the best of helpers and operator that I have selected. Donned in The Alliance’s uniform, Sasengun stood among my operators, her black hair kept by a golden brooch. Next, to her, Searek and Faugus stood tall and low in my uniform as well. Though they had severe mental issues, Pride had no way of knowing that. Putting them on a dandy uniform and made them look presentable, putting on a smile as well, and even the most damaged souls can appear normal. But Pride has never bothered to look at my helpers and operators to even to notice.

Pride no longer hold herself back in that match. She came at me with her full might and ability.

Pride wanted to see it, the ugliness of reality. Thus, I gave her the honor to experience it before anyone else in this world of Escana would, me at my full might. I treated Pride as if Pride was one of them, one of those who stood between me and the World Cup Championship.

I deployed Searek’s suicide chargers as baits. Faugus’ units were tasked to coordinate and set ambushes. Sasengun filtered down the number of nonsenses and troubles that I had to personally deal with.

The moment Searek’s suicide chargers were wiped out to the last men, Pride’s defeat became apparent.

“Lesson number one. You held yourself back in those 4999 matches. But you were not the only one who held back. The only difference between us is that you held yourself back from winning those battles, I held myself back from showing you my proficiency and development in this game.” I put on my lecturing voice, leaving the task of mobbing what left of Pride’s army to my operators.

Pride said not a single word, infuriated, struggling against the inevitable.

“Lesson number two. With the mouse and the keyboard, I am Fearless. But take them away, I am still Fearless. Blindfold, blindfold not, I am still Fearless.”

Pride gritted her teeth and ordered her remaining units to one last stand. She mustered one final charge at my warlord only to watch Sasengun wiped them out with a single order.

“And lastly, you thought I have given you a handicap by playing in this different format. Let me remind you what I told you at that time, “If you believed that you are on my level with 13 years of playing and studying this game, Pride, my dear, you are an absolute moron.” I have never confirmed or said anything about giving you a handicap. You assumed that I have given you a handicap on your own. What I meant was, Pride, my dear, you still have much to learn.”

Pride’s metal mask shattered like pieces of glass, revealed to me for the first time the wholesomeness of her beauty. Even when we have lived with each other for so long, Pride has never once shown me her face beneath the mask.

“Dearest Prince, are you perhaps being mesmerized by my appearance? Tell me, am I not the fairest woman you have met?” Pride smiled seductively while holding back her anger, acting as if she was completely unaffected by this 5000th defeat.

“I love you Pride. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met. But in a game of ROC that makes no difference. In ROC, there are only the winner and the loser. And there you have it, I had no desire to be a loser.” I rubbed salt to her injuries with a bright smile.

“One of the most? You sure you don’t mean The Most?”

“I meant what I said. But, feel free to assume my words again.”

The two of us bickered again like old time. But Pride seemed to resent the fact that I saw that beauty mark beneath her dusky lavender eye, that beauty mark that resembled a teardrop. Lust had told me about this beauty mark but I did not realize that Pride was conscious about it. I put my arms around Pride’s waist and swooped her into my chest. I kissed her beauty mark. “I am collecting my victory kiss because you seem to forget about it these days.”

Pride pushed me away, looking flustered for the first time in years. The last time she appeared this flustered was when she was teaching me the swan waltz. That time, our chemistry took us a little bit too far, almost making it a done deal.

The next morning, Pride started wearing heels. It’s harder for me to not notice it. “If you wanted to stand tall and look down on me, I suggest you start wearing a 10 meters heels tomorrow. A pair of 5 cm heels are nowhere enough,” I poked fun at Pride.

Pride went straight for the kill as soon as the 5001st match began. She moved fast. Her troops came straight at my army like a school of starving sharks that smelled blood. Under my command, Sasengun split my formation and opened a beeline for Pride’s army to contact with my warlord. Pride sent a unit of light cavalry and witches to dive straight at my warlord.

A woman’s jealousy was beautiful as it was terrifying. My army was like the vicious jaws of a monster and Pride’s cavalries and witches that slipped into it were decimated completely. Sasengun humiliated Pride in the most savage manner.

Back then, when I pulled Pride into my arms and kissed her beauty mark, I did it while Sasengun was watching. Both the power of friendship and the power of love were equally strong to the power of jealousy in term of motivation. Combined those three together and infused them into a woman, that was my usual recipe.

That match was the turning point for both of us. Pride became more cautious with her movement and decision. She no longer held back at anything. Neither did I. And I had no more reason to hold back on my usual trash-talk either, now that Sasengun and Faugus have joined the rank of my operators. With their help, I could free my mouth from the need of ceaselessly shouting commands at every second and every minute.

I talked more trash than the combined amount of trashes that Earth’s biggest landfills could contain. And Pride, now, she must fully focus on dealing with me, she talked less trash than before. She realized that if she kept playing the trash talking with me, she would lose focus on the match. Our situation was reversed.

S0rr0w often said, “ROC is 30% skill, 10% of luck, 10% of preparation and 50% of mind game.” For that reason, he started talking trash. Every time he spoke of that nonsense, I would always ask him, “Where did you get that data? Show me.” He could never provide the data since the words came out of his mouth were trash. Regardless, the trash talk has always been a part of my mind game as S0rr0w’s. “You don’t suppose that I have stopped improving my game after I arrived at this world, do you? When I taught you, I also taught myself. When I trained you, I also trained myself.”

Around the 5207th match, my trash talk got into Pride’s head at the same time Searek’s suicide chargers were messing up her entire formation. Pursuing and wiping out Searek’s units were not exactly the smartest decisions but ignoring them was not a bright idea either. Searek’s units were like bed bugs. If Pride kept ignoring them, their damage would multiply. Sasengun worked with us in tandem, blunted Pride’s best attack like a complete savage. Pride could keep her cool no longer. She smashed her screen and keyboard and ended the match.

Around the 5509th match, Pride asked me if I had managed to win Lust over. I had no reason to hide.

“Yes, I did,” I admitted.

“I figured,” sighed Pride.

“How do you know?”

“I try to summon my wing demons into this dream of yours yesterday but it did not work. Therefore, I figured that Lust must have helped you. Her authority was obstructing mine.”

Lust was the top recruit on my priority list for many reasons. Firstly, Lust’s main authorities were mostly related to the Divine Dream. She was the queen of the dream demons. Therefore, if I gained her support, I can wage a war that no mortal has ever been able to do and no immortal has ever been able to imagine. A war of dreams, whereas every mortal’s dream could become a potential death sentence or a prison to any Demon Lord and any God on any random day. If I could overcome a Divine Dream conjured by Death, I was sure that out there on Escana, people who were capable of the same feat existed. With the right knowledge and mentality, plus training and preparation, and maybe, a little bit of help, the balance of power will shift. And a mortal could be so much stronger than any immortal.

When these immortals realized that I was not the only mortal who was capable to locking them inside my head, I could not help but wonder if they had the balls to enter a mortal’s dream ever again.

Secondly, Lust’s red dream was said to be so real, vivid, beautiful, gentle and perfect that people refused to wake up from it until their body failed them. They then died inside the red dream and reincarnated into a succubus in the end. Therefore, I wanted Lust to help me improving my current dreamland as well as showing me what a red dream looked like.

Lust created a red dream within my dream. I cried and threw up inside that red dream. I saw my worst nightmare, the most beautiful and bright and gentle nightmare that I had ever experienced, yet visceral. It was as if my most foolish attempt to recreate my happiness inside this dream was but a cheap replica. That red dream left a bitter taste inside my mouth. I was reminded of how far I have strayed from my happiness. That kind of dream, that kind of reality, I was not interested one bit.

But more importantly, Lust’s connection to Pride was the main reason for me to recruit her. She knew Pride more than the rest. That information was valuable.

“Munezee has once told me, ‘Pride is a warrior who is not good at fighting, a thinker whose thought was shallow, a commander of miracles who can only scratch the surface of miracles, a lover who can only love herself.’ That is what he said.” Lust snuggled into my chest when she told me the story.

“Do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know.” Lust’s answer made me flabbergasted as usual. Even though Lust has been Pride’s lover for god-knows-how-many- years, she did not understand Pride. Because, if Lust understood Pride, “No, I don’t,” would be her answer. I did not have to be Pride’s lover to be able to answer that question.

Pride continued to inquire, “So who else? Greed? Acrẽa? Managan? Envy?”

“How about you use your brain instead of probing me for an easy answer.”

“Fool,” Pride sighed.

“Me or you?”

“You. Obviously. If you desire my harem, you only need to become my Champion. My harem would be yours and yours would also be mine.”

Regardless whether Pride has made that offer or not, that changed nothing. But I gulped because Pride’s words contained no lie, “You should have made that offer to me first when you make your recruitment pitch talk. Now, it’s too late. You are a big fool.”

“No, you are the fool for not realizing it,” Pride spat out angrily and walked away.

I loved admiring Pride when she walked on her heels, especially when she walked away angrily. There was witchcraft in the sway of her hips and her heels only made it better. I loved how Pride looked so uncomfortable when she stood next to me these days. Though Pride’s heels remained with her until her 10,000 defeats. Her Raiment of Superbia scattered into the air just like sand as soon as I defeated her.

I thought Pride was about to cry for a moment. But she covered naked form and cursed me instead.

“Prince? You are just a horny monkey.”

“Calling me a horny monkey one more time and you will remain naked for the rest of your remaining time inside this dream,” I warned Pride about her misidentification of privilege for authority. I gave her the privilege to talk to me as my equal. That was not to be mistaken with authority.

Since then, I had the honor to be Pride’s sole fashion designer. I supposed that Pride felt being completely naked around me was more humiliating than being unable to curse me.

My days since became so much brighter.

I had a laugh. Pride, despite being rich at many life skills, could not dress herself properly.

“Your overreliance on your special raiment backfire,” I doubled and laughed myself to tears while pointing my finger at the state of Pride’s shamble fashion.

Pride silently grabbed that finger and broke it. I swung my other fist at her. She twisted it like a dead tree branch and was about to repeat the same tragedy on my other limbs.

“Bitch, you break another bone of mine, you will live the next one thousand year being naked while the rest of my captives watching you uncensored.” I rapped. I delivered the line just fast enough before Pride was about to break my remaining good arm. My eyes blurred from the tears of pain.

Pride released me. Her face was drowned in sullen anger and shame. If it wasn’t for the pain, I would have enjoyed that sight so much more.

I conjured a makeup table inside Pride’s room and made her sat before it. I took great joy in combing and setting Pride’s golden cascade and coordinating her dress. It was like I was reliving my college years again, the time when I was helping Alice with her makeup whenever I could.

While I was jubilant about being Pride’s makeup artist, I immediately encountered a problem. Pride’s face had the symmetrical and sharpness that made me question the meaning of cosmetic and makeup. If every man and women were born with her face, those makeup and cosmetic companies on Earth might experience a lot of financial problems that they normally would never experience otherwise.

In the end, I only applied some eyeliner and lipstick to Pride, matching the color with the costume I had prepared for her. Pride was so pretty that I felt like I was playing with a human size doll sometimes.

“Did your heart skip a beat because of my look?” Pride turned around, straddled my cheek and asked when she realized that I was gaping at her mirror image.

“Yes,” I admitted, stealing a quick kiss on Pride’s cheek. “Now, you look absolutely gorgeous. Unlike one hour ago. One hour ago, you looked like a moron.”

“You too, one hour ago you were the moron who had his back to the ground and tears in his eyes,” Pride snapped right back.

I fixed Pride’s dress. Pride looked absolutely gorgeous in everything. Thus, I made it my goal to dress Pride in a different dress every day. Since, every morning I would knock on her room door at six. I took around one to three hours to set Pride’s hair and coordinated her dress. Pride would appear on the battlefield as if she was participating in a beauty pageant.

Sasengun became even more ruthless with how she dealt with Pride. She prolonged Pride’s defeat, toyed and humiliated Pride whenever it was possible. It came to the point that Pride started noticing her. She approached Sasengun at the end of the match, “Elf, who are you?” Pride demanded, high and mighty as usual.

“Nobody. I am just a maid in the service of his Highness,” Sasengun replied curtly and turned her back on Pride.

Pride had enough intelligence inside her to not ask Sasengun another question because the result would be the same. Sasengun would keep walking away without turning back once. And Pride would look like a fool.

Starting with the 10.037th match, the average time needed for us to finish one Blindfold ROC match leaped. Pride swallowed her ego, focused on defense and steadily expanded her base instead of rushing her force at mine as usual. Searek and Faugus became significantly less effective when Pride became less eager to move out of her position. Sasengun could not punish Pride’s judgmental mistake when Pride did not make any apparent move, like any move at all.

“Bitch, come out. Stop hiding like a FUCKING TURTLE. If you are a lion, fight like one,” I taunted and showed Pride my middle finger.

“How about you come inside and try it? Do you have any ball?”

“Bitch, do you want to inspect them?” I shouted. My hands were already on the zipper.

Pride’s face reddened. She unfastened her brooch and fling it at me in a fit of anger. But I had no need to do anything. Searek shattered it in midair with his fist.

“YOU THINK YOUR DEFENSE IS IMPREGNABLE?”

“If you think you can penetrate my defense, do it.”

“YOU DARE ME?”

“I DARE YOU,”

“Bitch, if you have anything else to toss, toss them. I DARE YOU.”

We bickered back and forth. But regardless of my trash talk, Pride kept fortifying her sphere of control, setting ambushes for my troops and refused to attack.

That 10,037th match lasted six filthy days with no break in between. When it ended, Faugus and my helpers were lying on the ground, breathing their sigh of exaltation. Searek banged his head against the ground repeatedly and then howled his victory cry like a wolf. I was so glad that tears of happiness kept flowing down while I bury my face inside Sasengun’s chest. “I’m fucking done. I don’t want to have anything to do with this shit,” I was crying because I had just finished the longest and most punishing ROC match of my life.

For once I was glad that this match happened inside my dream, otherwise, I would feel extremely sorry for the casters and the audiences. After that, I took a break from ROC and any ROC related activity. I would try everything during that week. Hosting a music festival, rock & roll, karaoke, showering, parties, bowling, swimming, returning to that checkered hall to mock Xaara even further, torturing some random unfortunate Demon Lords in person, sex and anything that was not related to ROC.