What awaited Jin was a secluded garden, a stark contrast to the rest of the bustling estate. A small, unassuming gate separated the military chaos from this hidden oasis of tranquility. The air was filled with the sweet scent of manicured bushes heavy with pink blossoms, and elegant trees cast dappled shadows over a stone path.
The path led to the edge of a small pond, its surface as still as glass. A narrow wooden walkway extended to its center, leading to a small pavilion that seemed to float on the water. Inside, two cushioned chairs faced each other over a table, upon which sat an intricately carved chess set.
"Do you know how to play chess?" Kelly asked, her eyes hopeful.
Jin paused for a fraction of a second, weighing the minor risk of revealing another unusual skill. It was a trivial matter. "Yes," he answered.
"Wonderful!" she said, her face lighting up. "Then let's play a game."
They took their seats. Kelly, with the white pieces, confidently made her first move.
Kelly had the with chess pieces while Jin the black ones, so she made her first move.
The game began simply enough. Kelly opened with a standard Queen's Gambit, a confident and aggressive move for a child her age. Jin, playing black, responded with a solid, defensive posture. He had expected her to play with the random, piece-pushing logic of a novice. He was wrong.
She developed her pieces with a clear purpose, her knights controlling the center, her bishops fianchettoed to exert pressure from the flanks. Jin found himself genuinely, if mildly, surprised. This girl wasn't just playing; she understood the game's flow. He had to recalibrate, abandoning his plan of a simple, boring win and instead engaging her in a proper contest—one that would still look like a child prodigy's victory, not that of a timeless master.
The mid-game became a silent, intense war. Kelly pressed her attack, sacrificing a pawn to open up a file for her rook. Jin responded with a counter-intuitive move, seemingly weakening his king's position to create a complex web of threats on the other side of the board.
To Kelly, it must have looked like a series of desperate trades as she picked off his pieces one by one. Her confidence grew with every capture.
The turning point came an hour into the game. Jin deliberately placed his queen in a vulnerable position. It was a tempting, almost irresistible target. Kelly saw the trap—or at least, the one she thought she saw. She calculated four moves ahead and saw a clear path to victory. With a triumphant little smile, she captured his queen.
"Check," she announced, her knight threatening his exposed king.
The garden was silent save for the buzzing of bees. Jin looked at the board, his expression unreadable. He moved his king to the only available square. Kelly's smile widened as she continued her assault, forcing his king into a corner. She had him. His most powerful piece was gone, his king was trapped, and her own forces were poised for the final blow.
That's when the trap—the real one—sprung.
The board, which had seemed so clearly in her favor, was now a web of threats she hadn't seen. The bishop Jin had moved forty minutes ago, which seemed like a passive defensive play, now controlled a critical, deadly diagonal. The two pawns he had advanced and left forgotten were the unshakeable anchors of his attack. His lone rook, which had been hiding on the edge of the board, slid across the now-open file with lethal precision.
Kelly's eyes widened. She stared at the board, her mind racing to catch up. Her triumphant attack had been a diversion. Every piece she had so eagerly captured had been a calculated sacrifice, pulling her forces out of position just enough for his seemingly scattered pieces to create a perfect, inescapable net.
Three moves later, Jin made his final play. It was not a brutal capture, but a quiet, almost gentle advance of his bishop, blocking the king's last escape route while his rook delivered the final, fatal threat.
"Checkmate," he said softly.
Kelly didn't speak for a full minute. She stared at the final position, replaying the last ten moves in her mind, seeing the ghost of the trap she had so eagerly and confidently walked into. It had been a masterpiece of misdirection. She hadn't been playing against him. She had been playing against a story he had written on the board, and she had followed the script perfectly.
Finally, she looked up from the board, not with anger or disappointment, but with pure, unadulterated awe. "How," she whispered, "did you do that?"
"From the very beginning," Jin said calmly, "your every intention was written on your face."
"On my face?"
"It would have been much harder if you weren't so obvious," he stated, as if it were a simple fact.
Kelly thought about this for a minute, then let out a sigh, admitting her defeat. "You beat me. And I thought I was good at this game." She propped her elbow on the table, resting her cheek in her hand as she stared into the distance.
"Do you know why the Duke summoned me this morning?" she asked, her voice losing its playful edge.
"No, I do not."
"Do you want to know?"
Jin didn't care one bit, but he saw no reason to be cruel. "If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to," he said, his tone neutral.
She looked at him then, taking her hand away from her cheek. "He wants me to leave."
"Leave?"
"Yes," she said, her voice dropping. "He wants to marry me off." She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "My sister was supposed to be married to another Duke's son, but since she died, someone has to take her place. I'm the only one left."
"Aren't you too young?" Jin asked, genuinely confused by the customs of this world.
Kelly let out a short, bitter laugh that held no humor. "There is no age in political marriages. My sister was betrothed at ten and died at sixteen. They won't make the same mistake of waiting. They want me to go now, even though I'm only eight."
She looked back down at the table, tracing invisible patterns on the wood with her fingertip. "When this whole demon campaign is over... I have to go." Her voice fell to a whisper. "Can I tell you a secret?"
Jin noticed the genuine distress in her eyes and gave a slight nod. "If you want."
"I hope the demon worshippers destroy this whole place," she whispered, the words hanging in the quiet air like poison. "So I'll never have to go."
Jin looked at her, astonished for a moment, and then a slow smirk spread across his face. 'She looks so innocent, but hides such wonderfully sinister thoughts.'
"Do you remember what I told you this morning?" he asked.
Kelly looked up, stunned by his reaction. "You mean... about having a goal?"
"That's right," he said, his smirk widening. "And it seems you've just found yours."
A short, tense silence followed.
"If you don't want to go, then don't," Jin said, his voice low and compelling. "And if you want this place destroyed... why wait for others to do the work for you?"
'What twisted logic,' Kelly thought. But she was not repelled by it. A strange, forbidden warmth spread through her chest. "You mean... I should destroy this place?"
"If you want to," Jin replied with a simple, unnerving smile.
He glanced up. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the garden. It was time for him to say his goodbyes to Gilga.
"I have to go now," he said simply. "See you around."
And with that, Jin stood and left, leaving Kelly sitting alone in the floating pavilion, the echo of his dangerous words blossoming in the twilight.