Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

Rhodes stood amidst the surreal landscape, his gaze roaming over the peculiar surroundings.

Towering trees, their blossoms filling the air with a heady fragrance, swayed gently. Pigs soared gracefully through the sky, while fish ambled lazily across the land. The entire world seemed like a fever dream brought to life.

"Is this paradise?" Rhodes muttered, his brows furrowed.

But paradise? No, this felt more like a farcical dreamscape conjured by a deranged imagination.

Puff!

A sudden spike whistled past his head, cutting through the air. Rhodes narrowed his eyes, dark energy crackling at his fingertips. With a swift motion, he unleashed a vibrant wave of demonic power toward the source of the attack.

Shrill cries erupted from the bushes as a group of tiny, palm-sized humanoid creatures scampered out in disarray.

"The White Queen's pawn is angry!" one of them wailed as they fled.

"Fairies?" Rhodes murmured, watching their frantic retreat. But as his keen eyes scanned them, he noticed a lack of wings.

"Not fairies… A miniature human race?"

Intrigued, Rhodes spread his wings and trailed the diminutive beings from a distance.

Eventually, a quaint village came into view. Its fences and wooden houses, no larger than a palm, dotted the terrain, with some precariously perched on tree branches. The tiny people, clothed in woven leaves and vines, went about their lives in what seemed to be tranquil simplicity.

"The White Pawn is here! The White Pawn is here!"

At the sight of Rhodes, panic erupted in the village. Miniature villagers darted in every direction, vanishing into their tiny abodes like frightened mice.

Boom!

Rhodes descended from the sky, his demonic energy manifesting as ropes that snared the fleeing little humans, hoisting them into the air like captured prey.

"You're one of the White Queen's lackeys! Let us go!" a captured villager shouted defiantly.

"White Queen?" Rhodes tilted his head, mildly curious but unwilling to waste time explaining himself.

With a flick of his wrist, a whip of black energy lashed out, striking the loudest captive. The small figure writhed, his defiance replaced by groans of pain.

"Now, will someone answer my question properly?" Rhodes asked, his voice calm, almost gentle.

Despite his tone, the captives felt a chill in their hearts as they stared at the cold smile on his face. Around them, dark, spear-like projections hovered ominously, poised to strike. Rhodes' intent was clear: one word from him, and every one of them would perish.

"What… What do you want to know?" the leader of the little humans, a man named Baha, finally relented. His earlier defiance melted into resigned submission.

"Who is this 'White Queen'?"

"Aren't you one of her soldiers?" Baha asked, puzzled.

"Answer the question," Rhodes said, his expression unchanging.

Realizing the futility of resistance, Baha sighed and began his explanation. "In this world, two major races dominate everything: the White Chess tribe and the Red Chess tribe. The White Queen leads the White Chess tribe, and the Red Queen commands the Red Chess tribe. They've been at war for ages, each viewing the other as heretics. Every day, their forces clash in an endless struggle, hoping to devour the other entirely."

Baha paused, his voice heavy with frustration. "Even small, powerless races like ours are dragged into their conflict. We've been forced to migrate constantly, just to survive."

Rhodes frowned slightly, glancing down at his own elegant white attire. "So, they think I'm one of the White Chess tribe…"

He listened as Baha elaborated. The White Chess tribe believed white was the purest, most sacred color, while the Red Chess tribe revered red as the embodiment of passion and vitality. Their irreconcilable philosophies fueled a war that consumed everything in its path.

"The Red Chess soldiers are coming!"

A frantic cry interrupted Baha's explanation. Rhodes turned to see a group of armored soldiers in striking red attire charging toward them. Wherever they passed, the land seemed to bleed with an eerie crimson hue.

"They're from the White Chess tribe!" one of the Red soldiers snarled, his gaze locking onto Rhodes. Without hesitation, several soldiers broke formation and surged toward him.

Phew!

A blade of fiery red energy slashed through the air, its glow swallowing the surrounding colors and leaving a red-tinted void in its wake.

"How peculiar," Rhodes murmured, his interest piqued. "What happens to those struck by this red energy?"

Curiosity overtaking caution, he summoned his demonic power to ensnare a few nearby beasts. As the crimson energy engulfed the creatures, Rhodes observed the transformation.

Two of the beasts turned completely red, their eyes brimming with a violent, feral rage. They snarled, their hostility directed squarely at him. The remaining creatures dissolved into liquid red dye, which flowed back into the Red soldiers. Their armors gleamed brighter, and their weapons grew heavier and sharper.

"So, they grow stronger by consuming others," Rhodes mused, a dark smile curling his lips. "Interesting."

With a snap of his fingers, black spears materialized around him, piercing through the approaching Red soldiers. Their vibrant red forms were consumed by his darkness, reduced to inky black puddles. As the demonic energy flowed back into him, Rhodes felt a new power brewing within—a unique force born of this world's rules.

"Is this the world's exclusive energy system?"

Experimenting further, Rhodes manipulated his newfound power. From the black energy, he crafted a soldier clad in shadowy armor, wielding a blade unlike any other. Though autonomous, the soldier was undeniably bound to Rhodes' will, like a living chess piece.

"This world turns all powers into colors," Rhodes realized, "each color corresponding to a specific force or faction. Stronger colors dominate weaker ones. And with these colors, one can even create life."

Rhodes chuckled, his eyes gleaming. "If this is a chessboard, then I'll play to win."

He glanced at the trembling little humans. "Everything here is a piece on the board, even you."

The dark and golden soldiers Rhodes had created descended upon the village, slaughtering the tiny villagers with ruthless efficiency. Rhodes watched impassively, unmoved by their cries.

"In this world, morality means nothing," he muttered. "The only sin is to be of the wrong color."

As the massacre unfolded, Rhodes' black and gold soldiers absorbed the fallen. Some were assimilated into new chess pieces, while others became raw energy to fuel their growth.

One black soldier underwent a dramatic transformation, his body engulfed by a sludge-like darkness. When the process was complete, a dark knight emerged, mounted on a shadowy warhorse. The knight's lance shimmered with deadly intent, and the ground trembled beneath its hooves.

Rhodes smirked, a flicker of excitement igniting in his chest. "The rules of this game are brutal, but that's what makes it fun."

He turned his gaze toward the horizon. The White Queen and the Red Queen had armies that dwarfed his fledgling forces. But with time, strategy, and the relentless consumption of his enemies, Rhodes knew he would dominate this chessboard.

"Let's begin."