The Company Commander Regressed

Ch. 14



Chapter 14

I hadn’t done a thing, yet—

“Come to think of it, after I got the lake, it never once rained...”

Rain felt different now.

I focused on the downpour.

I let every thread of it reach me.

Each drop slammed the ground and the puddles shuddered in reply.

“Lake” was only a nickname Kinjo had stuck on me.

“...What I’m feeling isn’t the lake—it’s the ripple.”

The ripple was stronger than when I actually used the lake.

More plentiful, too.

Counting the drops would be impossible.

I closed my eyes.

The Knight Order man’s words floated up, effortless:

—Find a real environment, feel it, get used to it. Then reading mana gets easier. The easier it is, the faster you grow.

A real environment where ripples exist.

For me, that was rain.

He’d handed me the hint.

He’d probably swear he hadn’t told me a thing.

But to someone who didn’t even know where to go to grow, he’d drawn the map.

Feel it. Get used to it.

Now that I knew the way, I only had to walk it.

Rain felt with my eyes shut.

Every silver spear of water became an ally.

Nature itself was on my side.

The lake had clear limits.

Twice a day.

Five minutes. Fifty metres.

This torrent was nothing like it.

The lake was a sense caged inside a circle.

Rain, though—

“An endless ripple.”

Infinite.

Under the dark clouds it filled every crack, soaked the ground in deeper colour.

Falling, splashing, rising again—

ripples spreading.

I sprinted straight for the dorm.

Burst in, shook Kinjo awake, buzzing.

“Kinjo, up!”

“Ngh... ugh...”

“I think I can push further. If I keep hold of this feeling—”

“Wha—what racket. Too loud...”

He knuckled his eyes.

“Come outside. Now.”

“Ugh, no. Sleeping.”

He yanked the blanket over his head.

“Right now.”

“Five more minutes.”

“Cut the crap.”

“What d’you mean, ‘push further’?”

“I think I can break the limit.”

“Break what?”

“The rain’s making me feel it.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Some help you are.”

“Exactly. I’m no help. I’m sleepy, so handle it yourself.”

“Fine, have it your way.”

I punched his ribs.

“Ghk...!”

I went back out.

Stood in the same spot and let the rain hammer me.

Eyes closed, I triggered the lake twice in a row.

Ten minutes I waited.

Normally the vision would’ve snapped off by now.

But the black-and-white world held.

“Didn’t need him after all.”

A third use was still flowing.

“Don’t need any ‘teacher’.”

* * *

“As scheduled, the Third Exam.”

The Chief Instructor’s briefing began on the parade ground.

No maps, no notes this time—meaning we already knew what to do.

Third Exam already.

There would be a Fourth, yet this felt like the last.

Fourth Exam.

I remembered that day.

—Belle, calm down!

—I’ll kill that bastard myself...!

—Belle!

I pressed my temples and scrubbed the thought away.

Now was the time to focus on the Third Exam.

The Instructor raised his right hand.

“This test is Teams of Three. Basically, it’ll be three-on-three.”

He spread three fingers.

Teams of Three?

In my previous life the Third Exam had been four-on-four tournament duels.

The content had changed.

What had twisted the future this time?

“Thanks to a certain maniac who went solo in the First Exam, we can’t risk a repeat. So you lot will be the first 66th Class to trial a brand-new format.”

It was my fault.

Karma had come for me in a form I’d never imagined.

I was about to face an exam I’d never seen.

“It’ll feel unfamiliar. Those same instructors locked heads and built this from scratch because of that maniac... If it gives us meaningful rankings, we may keep it for every class hereafter.”

He tapped a wooden rod against his palm.

“The name: Mago Chess. And no, I didn’t coin it.”

He looked embarrassed to admit it.

For the first time the Instructor’s composure cracked.

“Pretty blunt about whose fault this is...” Amon muttered beside me.

“They said it’s like playing chess with your eyes closed, so the name stuck,” the Instructor continued.

He turned his gaze.

Following it, I saw the parade ground striped with grid lines.

Squares, just like a chessboard—only bigger.

More squares, more space than any normal set.

“When the match starts you’ll receive a Turn. Move only on your Turn.”

That was the opener.

“Listen closely from here; the rules twist. Of the three teammates, one is King. The King can’t leave his square and must keep his eyes closed.”

Heads nodded around me.

“Each Turn the other two move the team’s chess pieces. How far depends on the King’s judgment and the piece’s ability.”

“Instructor, if the piece is fast, it can cross more squares—”

“Questions later, Kinjo. But yes, you’re right. Just as there are different chessmen, different Trainees have different movement ranges. How you use them rests with the King.”

He cleared his throat.

“Another break from chess: you may pass your Turn—stay put if you wish.”

He raised an index finger.

“One more. The King may open his eyes twice. While they’re open, the enemy team freezes. Victory is simple: touch the opposing King. A hand on the head ends it. Hint: the King must be the head.”

He tapped his own temple.

“But brains alone won’t win; you can’t move and your eyes are shut. Your two ‘pieces’ must feed you information nonstop. This Third Exam tests command and communication. As you learned in the First, anything I haven’t forbidden is allowed. Find the gaps and force your win.”

He was finished.

“That’s all. Questions?”

I shot my hand up.

“Mago.”

“How are points split?”

“Winners fifty, losers zero. Polar.”

A ripple of murmurs.

“Group composition just became critical...”

“All or nothing.”

“Today’s bout could flip the rankings.”

“Quiet. Other questions?”

Again my hand.

“Mago.”

“What decides the teams?”

“Good question. This time we met and balanced skill levels. While we’re at it, I’ll announce the rosters.”

Assignments began.

I waited for my name.

“Group Five: Mago.”

I answered loud and clear.

“You’ll have a special rule: you are fixed as King.”

“May I ask why—?”

“I hate to say it, but it’s the only way to keep things even.”

Acceptance was mandatory.

My partners followed.

“Oscar Sita, Louise Murphy.”

Oscar and Louise—whom I’d once split between paths—stepped to my side.

Thus Group Five was set.

“Next, Group Six.”

My future opponents.

“Kinjo Shua, Amon Coster, Belle Red.”

So much for balance.

Group Six looked catastrophically lopsided.

“They’re really sticking us with that line-up?” Oscar murmured, hollow-eyed.

“Mago, can we actually win? And you’re stuck as King—no body to fight with. If you were a piece you’d be Queen material...”

“Hard to say... we’ll only know when we play.”

“In the First Exam maybe you solo-carried, but this time I’m here.”

He thumped his chest.

“If you’re a plus, I’m a minus.”

“Confident way to call yourself a liability, Oscar.” Louise glared.

“Anyway, Mago—strictly speaking, Group Six is nothing but pluses.”

Oscar spoke.

Kinjo, Amon, Belle.

They were a brutal lineup.

Kinjo would naturally take the King role.

A mage who could cast Clairvoyance.

If he became King, closing his eyes would carry no penalty; he could see straight through his own eyelids.

As long as he chose the right turn to open them and stop Louise and me, victory was guaranteed.

And with Amon and Belle guarding a King like that, the formation looked airtight.

Group Six’s pieces fit together like a golden ratio.

While I was thinking, my gaze met Kinjo’s.

We both knew.

Lake versus Clairvoyance.

A contest to see whose eyes would roll farther.

“Mago, I’m apologizing in advance,” Oscar said, bowing his head.

“An ordinary guy like me is only making this harder. Even if we win, it’ll be all thanks to you.”

“Ordinary?”

“Yeah. Compared to you and Group Six, I’m just average.”

“A man who’s pledged his life to the country is ordinary? There are no ordinary people here. Stop talking nonsense and figure out how you’re going to protect me.”

“Still, I’m obviously the least noticeable piece on the board...”

Oscar had a brilliant talent for crafting, but almost zero combat ability.

And while Louise held a wooden sword—a close-range weapon—it was far inferior to a bow.

“But Kinjo knows every one of my weaknesses...”

My only edge was that he had no idea what had happened last night in the rain.

A deadly information gap had opened.

A plan built on that gap.

There was one way to beat Group Six.

“Oscar, from Turn Ten onward you move forward. Only forward. Even if I tell you to go sideways—or give no order at all—keep charging straight.”

“Why...?”

“You’ll see how useful ‘being unnoticeable’ can be in chess. I’ll let you feel it firsthand.”

As the chief instructor said, how a piece was used was up to the King’s judgment and skill.

* * *

‘Mago, sorry...’

Kinjo rested his fingertips on his chin.

‘It bugs me that I’m the only Top Ranker who came down here.’

He remembered the past.

Waiting in the capital for the day they’d enter the Training Center.

Experimenting on the lake with Mago, knocking down thieves.

No one knew Mago better than he did.

“Duration, range. I know the weakness—only me. Lake can be used twice a day; survive ten minutes and we’re safe.”

“Kinjo. Doesn’t this feel suspiciously easy?” Amon asked.

“I try not to judge before the result, but... honestly?”

Kinjo met Amon’s eyes.

“Yeah. It’s laughably easy.”

“Of course it is. The seeker’s a mage with Clairvoyance.”

“Well, Mago can see with his eyes closed too.”

“What? So all those wins weren’t luck?”

“If it were luck, it would’ve ended after one.”

“How does a former slave even do that...”

“He’s got a gift for magic. He reads mana flow instead of eyesight—complicated to explain, and not what matters now.”

Kinjo clapped his hands.

“So, let me lay out Mago’s weakness. Belle, you too.”

Belle was building a toad house from rain-soaked sand.

She knocked it flat and listened.

“The spell they call ‘Lake’—twice a day, five minutes each.”

‘I think Mago said something last night... but it won’t matter.’


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