The rain over the trench didn't wash away the smell of copper and ozone; it only pushed it deeper into the mud.
Itachi opened his eyes. He didn't gasp for air. He didn't thrash in panic. He simply blinked against the freezing downpour, his heartbeat as slow and rhythmic as a metronome.
Around him lay the wreckage of the Grandmaster Academy's 7th Vanguard. Dozens of cadets—all branded with the single dot of a Pawn—were scattered across the blasted earth like discarded toys. They had been deployed to the Outskirts for what the instructors called a "live-fire tactical exercise."
In reality, it was a cull.
High Prince Valerius and his elite retinue of Knights and Bishops needed a meat shield to distract an enemy battalion while they secured the objective. The Pawns had been ordered to hold the line. They were butchered in under three minutes.
Slowly, Itachi sat up, the mud peeling off his standard-issue Academy armor. He wiped the dirt from his cheek, his dark eyes scanning the smoke-choked horizon. He wasn't angry. Anger was an emotion for players who didn't understand the board.
He had calculated this exact outcome three weeks ago. Valerius's ego, the Academy's gross negligence, the terrain—it all pointed to a sacrifice play. Itachi hadn't just expected to be left for dead; he had banked on it.
To the Academy, Itachi was a ghost. A quiet, utterly unremarkable cadet with average test scores and a tendency to blend into the background. Let them think he was dead. It was the only way to move without the eyes of the Kings and Queens tracking him.
A heavy crunch of boots snapped him out of his thoughts.
Through the fog, an enemy scavenger emerged. He was an Ironbreaker—a low-tier Rook from the opposing faction, heavily armored and wielding a massive, jagged broadsword. The brute was moving through the bodies, driving his blade into the chests of any Pawns who were still twitching.
The scavenger's eyes locked onto Itachi. A cruel grin split his face.
"Missed one," the brute grunted, hefting the massive sword.
Itachi didn't draw the standard short-sword at his hip. He didn't take a defensive stance. He just looked at the massive man, his expression completely blank. He analyzed the distance: twenty feet. He analyzed the weapon: too heavy for a quick second strike.
The scavenger charged, closing the distance with terrifying speed. He swung the broadsword in a horizontal arc designed to cut Itachi in half.
A pale blue text flickered in the corner of Itachi's vision.
[Skill Activated: Stubborn Advance]
Itachi didn't dodge. He stepped forward.
Clang. The massive blade struck Itachi's side, but the kinetic energy seemed to shatter on impact. The system's law was absolute: as long as he was moving toward his goal, the world could only inflict half its cruelty upon him. The blade bit into his armor, cracking a rib, but it didn't stop him. He didn't even flinch. Physical force literally could not halt his momentum.
The scavenger's eyes widened in sheer disbelief as his unstoppable swing snagged on a boy who was still walking. It was like hitting a moving mountain disguised as a teenager.
Using the enemy's own overextended momentum, Itachi slid smoothly into the brute's guard. With a flick of his wrist, Itachi drew his Academy combat knife and drove it precisely up through the weak point under the scavenger's jaw, straight into the brainstem.
Itachi pulled the knife free. The massive man collapsed into the mud like a felled tree.
[Target Eliminated. Experience Gained: 0.01%]
Itachi ignored the prompt. He sheathed the bloody knife, his face completely unchanged. The pain in his ribs was dull, manageable. A necessary trade for an efficient kill.
He reached into his soaked uniform and pulled out a crinkled map of the continent. He was currently in the Dead Zones, a hundred miles from the towering spires of the Military Academy. Between him and the Academy's inner sanctum was a continent crawling with enemy forces, beasts, and the very elites who thought they had discarded him.
But that was fine. A Pawn could only move one step at a time, anyway.
"The opening phase is over," Itachi muttered to the empty battlefield, his voice dangerously calm. "Now, we play."
He turned his back on the slaughter and began to walk. The storm raged against him, the wind howling to push him back.
But Itachi kept moving forward. And the wind broke around him.