An intense atmosphere hung over the spacious room. Usually, the long rectangular table would be scattered with maps and detailed strategies or diplomatic contents to be signed. But today a different war was being waged within the walls of this sacred building; one waged by the senior advisor of the president on the straight-faced newcomer who had shown no emotion whatsoever to the transpiring events. Reinhelm made one thing clear—he would spare no effort in trying to defame Blight.
Standing at the entrance of the dignified state building, which closely resembled a certain dandy moustached detective in its demeanor, Blight fidgeted with his cuff one last time before stopping onto the refined oak floor in a much more presentable set of clothing this time. Every step was eerily clear; he could hear each distinctive thunk as if the cavernous arched chamber amplified each sound by a hundred times. An escort of six guards standing menacingly in the centre of the room motioned for him to follow them, and they led him back to the meeting room he had only been in yesterday. The moment he entered, all eyes stuck to him like glue, tracking his every movement. He was led to a prepared seat on the short side of the table closest to the entrance and sat down slowly, challenging every gaze with his own. Reinhelm clapped his hands together.
"So… He has arrived at last. I presume you have an idea of what we are doing here, Mr Blight?" questioned Reinhelm provokingly.
"Yes…" answered Blight pleasantly, his entire countenance mocking Reinhelm's unduly serious manner. The elder scowled angrily. Set up on the magnificent table were a dozen chessboards, their black and white marble surfaces giving off a dull glow. A dozen men dressed in crisp suits also sat around the table, each one with a chessboard in front of him. It was obvious what Reinhelm had planned.
"I assume I am to play against each grandmaster?"
Reinhelm sneered as if he had already predicted Blight's downfall.
"Naturally, according to the information we have on you, this should be an easy task, shouldn't it? Or are you saying the reports you had given us were false?"
Ah, so that's what it is. It all makes sense now.
"Also," continued Reinhelm remorselessly, "I may have forgotten to mention something important. You will be playing against all twelve at the same time."
Swift movements broke out from the corner of the room. The president, Mr Arden, jumped out from his lofty seat and whispered audibly to his advisor, "What's the meaning of this, Reinhelm? I thought you were only testing the man, not setting him up for failure—"
"He might've fooled you, but it'll take more than what he has shown for me to approve of him. For starters, he claimed he still couldn't reveal any information to us."
Reinhelm cast a final poisonous glance at Blight, who was seated comfortably in his chair, twiddling his fingers without a hint of nervousness.
"If he really is as good as the stories suggest, he should be able to clear them with ease. If not, well… there will be doubt whether he really is Blight or not."
Over on the far end of the gigantic table, Blight yawned so obviously, everyone in the room turned their heads to him. He beamed at Reinhelm and said, "I'm all ready to start if you are, sir."
Reinhelm sneered.
"Very well. We shall begin then."
"Pardon me again, sir," cut in Blight, his smile widening as his opponent flashed red with aggravation. "May I have a sheet of paper to record the moves? It'll ensure there's no cheating on both sides."
"You suspect us of cheating?"
"Oh, it's only a precaution. Surely, you agree, don't you?"
With a snap of his fingers, a clean sheet of paper was summoned along with a fine-tipped pen.
"Is there anything else?" asked Reinhelm with a growl. Blight's smile had now reached its full extent.
"Yes," he said quietly. "A blindfold is all that's needed now, I think."
Although confused, Reinhelm nevertheless ordered that a blindfold be given to Blight without raising questions. It was inconceivable that he was actually going to…
"Must be bluffing," hissed the uncertain advisor under his breath.
Upon receiving the strip of cloth, Blight nodded courteously to Reinhelm, making direct eye contact as if mocking him silently, then tied it around his head. He was now as blind as a bat.
Among the renewed river of murmurs, Blight's clear voice carried itself effortlessly across the room.
"May we begin? And, Mr Arden, I believe it would be wise for you to keep an eye on my hand to vouch for my credibility. You ready, Mr Reinhelm? Alright, that's good. Let's begin then."
—
Never had there been a moment in the state's legislature building where all voices truly ceased and all minds thought as one. Nobody dared to blink for fear of missing a single move. Pieces shuffled around the board like dancers synchronizing with each other perfectly.
With the influx of data swarming into his mind, each piece was instantaneously fixed into position onto their respective board, visualized effortlessly in Blight's mental domain. It was a bit like a blackboard; twelve chessboards were sketched out on a blank volume of space with every piece accurately placed in a position. After each move, which were called out by the players due to Blight's lack of sight, the pieces sketched themselves onto his imaginary boards would move accordingly, while on the other side of his 'blackboard', vast numbers of moves were listed and played out in rapid succession.
Not too long into the match, several grandmasters began to shake in their seats. How was the opponent so… calm? Plastered right across Blight's face was an expressionless smile that conveyed a sense of superiority to those staring at his blindfolded head— a kind of superiority impossible to be freed from.
Time was running out. The grandmasters were falling one by one with a simple 'checkmate'. Within minutes, the matches ended as sudden as they began, granting Blight perfect victory over all twelve players. Just after the final checkmate was announced, he slowly removed the blindfold and stared down everybody in the room as if they were mere children. Nobody dared to speak.
"I believe," he said quietly without dropping his gaze, "that I have won. If you have any objections—"
Here he challenged Reinhelm directly with a spine-shuddering glare.
"—then I would be more than happy to listen to them. However, as you've seen, I have won against all twelve of your players in spite of your expectations, so I'll politely request that you present something more than just a triviality, if anything at all."
There was a ring in those last words that sent a shiver through the souls of the listeners. Although restricted in a courteous manner, it was obvious what he meant—victory was undeniably his, and there was nothing anybody could do to change that fact.
Reinhelm rose first, unable to meet Blight's eyes. He seemed to have jumbled up his words, for every time he opened his mouth, a restrained string of words would flow out, infuriating him further. Mr Arden raised his hand to stop his furious advisor.
"If you will, Mr Blight," he said, directing him out of the hall. He turned back to address Reinhelm.
"Please restore the hall to its former state, Mr Reinhelm. I will also be expecting to see you in my office afterwards."
"Yes, sir."
Swiftly led down through the convoluted maze of corridors for the second time, Blight watched the president's back with an amused expression, mimicking a crafty snake toying with its prey. Mr Arden ushered him into the office hurriedly and shut the door behind him before breathing a sigh of relief.
"I'm dreadfully sorry about all this; it's Reinhelm who's against the idea—"
"Please don't trouble yourself, Mr Arden," murmured Blight. "I was already in your debt the moment you let me in as an ally."
The hardened president who always had a will of iron, felt a surge of gratitude to the patient man standing in front of him. He was about to make another whole-hearted attempt at apologising, when a loud commotion rang out behind the heavy door.
"What in the world?"
Blight stuck out his hand as Arden approached the door to check what was going on. He instructed the troubled man to take his seat, reassuring him that it was nothing significant.
"If you were wondering what that was," he purred, a dangerous glint in his eyes, "it is merely the sound of your subordinates taking away the traitor to where he rightfully belongs."
"Traitor? Do you mean there's been somebody working behind my back the entire time? Name him, sir!"
Blight raised his head slowly before answering in a heavy voice, "I have some evidence pointing to a man who's been destabilising your country from within. That man is none other than your advisor, Mr Reinhelm."
The full force of this sudden reveal slammed itself onto the stunned president; he collapsed into his chair muttering, "Reinhelm? I don't… I can't believe it…"
"You'd better believe it," said Blight gravely, passively tapping the arm of his chair. "After all, he's not entirely innocent in the events that led up to this war."
Arden leapt up and demanded, "Tell me more."
"Certainly. What do you wish to know?"
"Just tell me one thing: how is Reinhelm involved in this war? He's been loyal to me ever since I was elected president."
"Then perhaps it was your trust in him that led to his betrayal. To put it in simple terms, you've given him too much free reign."
Speechless bubbles floated out of Arden's mouth and vanished into nothingness before they could materialise into understandable sentences.
"You, no doubt, have difficulty believing me—allow me to explain. When I first arrived here, I immediately felt Reinhelm's hostility towards me before he even spoke. This, I thought, was rather odd for a man who was helping his master fight a losing battle. Why did he reject my help although it was clear he was on the losing side? Of course, it could have been suspicion or pride, but the more I looked into it, the more I was convinced that he didn't want me here for a more personal reason.
Yesterday, after you sent me to my room, I had the most intriguing conversations with some of your other officials; they claimed Reinhelm had made an immense amount of money during the war. Naturally, they were obviously equally as desperate for power as Reinhelm was, I had my doubts, but when they presented to me the undeniable proof, I knew Reinhelm was using the war to sell more resources behind your back."
"T–That's impossible! I would've known if something like this happened!"
"I'm afraid, Mr Arden, you still don't understand. Judging from his malicious personality, I wouldn't find it hard to believe he used some kind of blackmail with his power you handed him. Anyways, during those conversations late last night, I also found out that he'd been leaking false information to you all this time, building a false profile of me. I'm sure he intended to use chess as a trap to prove I was an imposter, but as you just witnessed yourself, I managed to evade it. With the little time I had, I quickly refamiliarised myself with the rules of chess and so on. Now, Mr Arden, is there anything I have missed?"
Arden, his confidence dwindling in front of the beast in front of him, grasped for words but only managed to say, "But what should I do with Reinhelm?"
"Cut him off," replied Blight harshly. "Remove the source of trouble and replace him with somebody with integrity—somebody with the strength and authority of a leader who knows what's best for the people and acts not for themselves, but rather for the benefit of this country.
"V–Very well," said Mr Arden. Hiding his face and waving Blight away. "Please give me some time to consider this."