Gen stared, his mind cold. The Wild Edge Sect Leader, now a Queen, glowered back from the opposite side of the board, his aura a vortex of jagged, grey wind. He was a real problem. Gen hadn't expected the enemy King to sacrifice its own pawns just to create a path for *this*. It was a move of profound, cold cunning.
Before Gen could order his next piece, the new hostile Queen moved. It positioned itself forward, its energy sealing off an entire flank of the board, trapping Gen's movement with his friends on one side. Gen's eyes darted. He couldn't shift to the side where Kang Mao and the others were without exposing his back to the alabaster King, the enemy Queen, and now this wildcard.
"Told you you would die," the Wild Edge Sect Leader's voice rasped across the board, thick with malice. This was his chance for revenge.
"Liang," Gen ordered, his voice tight. "Move back. Diagonally left." He needed to get him out of the immediate line of fire.
It was the wrong move.
The enemy King smiled. Its own original Queen, the stately white stone figure, glided forward, perfectly blocking Liang's retreat path and cutting him off from the group.
Lorel moved without being told. She shot forward, placing herself between the white Queen and Liang. The two Queens, one pink and living, one white and ancient, entered a silent, devastating clash.
There was no physical blow. A dome of opposing energy erupted where their auras met—a storm of roaring pink light against a silent, pressing wall of white. Qi howled across the board, distorting the squares beneath them. Neither was destroyed, but the fight didn't look like it would end soon. Lorel's Supremacy Swords flickered into existence around the dome, lashing out. The white Queen's stone skin seemed to grow denser, as if using a form of **Jingdao**.
Watching, Gen understood another rule. *The fight is really decided by the will of the cultivators.* But a new, terrifying corollary became clear: *Pawns locked in combat are frozen on the board. They cannot move again until one side is defeated.*
At that same moment, the enemy King's **Horse**—a knight carved from storm-cloud marble—made its move. It executed a sharp, L-shaped jump that placed it directly in line with Gen, with no pieces between them.
Gen suddenly felt an oppressive aura slam down on him. The air over his square grew heavy, the light dimmed. It was the game itself, warning him he was in mortal danger.
This time, the Horse didn't just float. It began to *run*. As it charged across its allotted squares, it *morphed*. A spectral, white stone steed materialized beneath it. The Horse raised a lance of condensed, shimmering rock, its tip aimed at Gen's heart.
**Zhidow.** The Wheel of Creation.
Gen recognized it. Master Yujin had been fiendishly clever, embodying each piece with the ability to use the Wheels of Destiny. This wasn't a game of statues; it was a battle of encapsulated cultivators.
Gen could feel the immense danger, a pressure like an entire army marching at him. He unleashed the **Jingdao of the Eternal Body's Second Door**. The clear, hardening vapor snapped over his skin just as the stone Horse completed its charge.
The impact was devastating.
***CRACK-THWOOM!***
The lance, empowered by the game's rule that a logical attack granted an edge, pierced down with the force of a falling tower. Gen tried to sidestep, but his movement felt restricted, sluggish, bound by the board's geometry. The lance-tip sheared past his shoulder, not a clean cut but a grinding tear that ripped through his reinforced flesh and scraped bone.
White-hot pain blinded him for a second. Gen bit his lip hard enough to taste blood, the coppery tang cutting through the shock. He stumbled, rolling on the hard surface of his square, his good hand scrabbling for purchase.
It wasn't over. The Horse pivoted with unnatural agility, its stone hooves clacking on the board. It gathered itself for another charge. *Unless Gen was dead, it would not stop.* This was why the other King had said checkmate. It had lined up this killing blow.
Lorel, locked in her titanic struggle, felt her heart lurch. She dared not imagine what she would do if something happened to Gen. But a single moment of distraction cost her. The white Queen pressed its advantage, a wave of nullifying force blasting Lorel back a step, her pink dome flickering dangerously.
Kang Mao, watching helplessly from his trapped position, bit his lip until it bled.
Liang, on the opposite side, felt utterly devastated. *It was all his fault.* The board had degenerated like this because he was weak, because he needed saving. Was he truly destined to be Immortal Jiang's weakest, most useless disciple?
Gen was in real danger. He flickered left and right on his square, a desperate dance, as the stone Horse charged again and again. He tried to punch forward, to meet it with the End of the World Finger, but the board itself seemed to work against him. The geometry shifted minutely, allowing the Horse to evade with impossible grace. Another powerful thrust grazed his ribs, a line of fire. A final, focused charge aimed to pin him for good.
The Horse lowered its lance for the final strike. Gen braced, but he was too slow, too cornered.
Then, he felt a terrifying *pull*.
His figure vanished from the spot.
**Chubbs** appeared in front of him, his body positioned like a real fool in a court—absurd, unexpected, taking the blow on his broad stomach.
***KER-THUMP!***
The sound was not of metal, but of immense, concussive force meeting unyielding loyalty. A golden shockwave erupted from Chubbs's torso. The stone Horse was thrown backward, its charge broken, its lance-point chipped.
Gen, holding his bleeding shoulder, looked up. Everyone on the board was shocked. Even the alabaster King's serene expression flickered.
Chubbs had done the exact same thing as the enemy Fool earlier. A **position swap**. A move outside of normal chess.
Something clicked in the minds of the cultivators watching. The game's deepest magic wasn't just about faith; it was about **understanding the nature of your piece of the wheel of destiny**. The Fool wasn't weak; it was the wild card, the trickster.
Chubbs, his face pale from the impact but lit with a fierce, unfamiliar light, was exhilarated. He had never done anything in his life. He had never accomplished anything. But ever since following Gen and Lorel, he had gotten better. Now he was not just, Chubbs, the fat boy everyone overlooked, he could fight. He could stand his ground.
He puffed out his chest, but never took his eyes off the stone Horse now recovering before him. He shifted his weight, his golden Jingdao flaring, ready to evade the next spear strike. As they had guessed, now that two pawns were engaged, they were locked. This fight would not end until one yielded.
Chubbs turned his head slightly, not taking his eyes off his foe. "I will be out for some time," he said, his voice rough but steady.
Gen nodded. He wanted to say *thank you*, but for some reason the words were stuck in his chest, a hard, warm lump beneath the pain. He looked around. Lorel, fighting for their survival. Chubbs, standing in the path of death for him. They were all fighting *for* him.
He had that vague feeling of familiarity again—the memory of watching his father face the impossible Damocles while he, Gen, stood uselessly in the back. A spectator.
*No.*
Gen bailed his fist. He would not stay back. Not again.
Ignoring the screaming pain in his shoulder, he pushed off from his square. He didn't move like a King, cautious and guarded. He moved like Gen Jiang. He shot straight forward, across the board, heading directly for the Wild Edge Sect Leader—the new, hostile Queen. It was time to settle their debt.
"Gen, it's dangerous!" Liang called out, his voice swallowed by the din of clashes.
But it fell on deaf ears. This was Gen Jiang. He was just like that, always walking straight into the impossible.
The other King saw the change in dynamics. Its brittle smile faltered, just for an instant, replaced by a spark of analytical coldness. Then its eyes fell on Liang, isolated and wounded, and on the Three-Tailed Sky Demon, which had been slinking around the edges.
It moved.
The Sky Demon slid forward with a viper's grace, entering a square that put it directly in line with Liang. The trap within the trap was set. With Liang blocked by the Sky Demon, Chubbs and the Horse fighting, Lorel and the white Queen locked in their stalemate, Gen was now alone.
He had no one left to help him.
If he lost to the Wild Edge Sect Leader here, the game would be set without the alabaster King having to lift a finger.
On the board, the clashes intensified—the thunderous exchange between Chubbs and the stone Horse, the silent war of attrition between the Queens, the new, venomous confrontation coiling around Liang. And at the center of it all, Gen Jiang, bleeding and defiant, flew toward his revenge, while the most epic and desperate fight of all was about to begin with no one at his back.