Otaku Witch

Two and a half months later, the Holy City of the Church of Glory.

At this time, the bustling festival within the city was still ongoing, countless believers parading through the streets, lifting high the Church Emblem; pilgrims from all over the world joined them too. They would kneel every three steps and bow their heads to kiss the ground of the Land of God Descent every nine steps, seemingly trying to better feel the grace of God in this way.

Fanatical faith spread throughout the city, and the tide-like Power of Faith from all directions was eventually absorbed entirely by the Glorious Cathedral at the center.

And now, at the top floor of this grand building reserved solely for the Pope's audience with the Divine Envoy among mortals, two beautiful Angels were playing chess.

Among them, the one on the left had white hair and six wings, exquisite in appearance, smiling gently, yet exuding an unapproachable chill.

She was pure and majestic.

The one on the right, with golden flowing locks, was handsome yet androgynous. He too wore a smile, but his eyes carried an unabashed pride.

He was graceful and noble.

"Lady Sophia, the appointed day is fast approaching. Aren't you at all worried about your classmates?"

The golden-haired Angel asked while making a move on the chessboard.

"Witches are not as easy to deal with as you imagine, Michael. Instead of worrying about the enemy, you should think more about whether you've completed all your work,"

replied the pure-white Angel confidently, making her move before raising her gaze slightly to look at her companion.

"To do anything at all, one must do it to the best of their ability, just like playing chess..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but Michael, observing the chessboard, already seeing the situation becoming clear, couldn't help the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

As a distinguished Seraph, she shouldn't lose her composure like this, but there's no help for it when you're faced with an opponent who seems to see through all your thoughts. It's hard not to feel anxious.

Just like in chess, beginners can only focus on the current game, thinking only one move at a time, while experts plan their moves carefully, thinking ahead by one, two, or even three moves.

Chess is like a battleground, and as a Seraph born with War Divine Authority and Mastery of Military Strategy, Michael was also a chess master. Among mortals, being able to predict three or four moves ahead already made one an expert, but she could effortlessly foresee ten or more moves.

This gap might seem insignificant, but it's not. Because predicting just one extra move requires exponentially more computational power. A three or four-move prediction may look only marginally different from ten or more, but the disparity in computational power between the two can be as vast as heaven and earth.

Furthermore, she was young and growing rapidly. Her current computational abilities were far from her limits; eventually, she might easily predict twenty or thirty moves ahead.

Nevertheless, even with Michael's self-confidence, facing the pure-white young girl across her, she felt an unavoidable sense of despair and found herself powerless, as if, from the beginning of the game, she was calculated into a deadlock, manipulated like a String Puppet throughout.

It was as if Lady Sophia had foreseen the endgame the moment the chess match started.

Such a thing cannot be easily explained by mere computational ability; it must be the effect of the highest power in the cosmos—the Power of Fate.

Is it any wonder that she's the daughter of the Lord of Glory? Her Favor from Fate is similar to that of the most powerful King of Angels.

Playing chess with her felt not like battling a person, but like contesting the heavens, contending against Fate itself—such an overwhelming sense of despair.

Even though Michael was doing her best to struggle, overperforming in this game with a few moves even reaching divine levels of brilliance under sudden Inspiration, the final phase of the game clarified everything.

All her so-called Inspiration, her divine moves, had already been anticipated by her opponent, and it wouldn't be surprising if even those bursts of Inspiration had been deliberately guided by the other side.

Michael had always been confident in her Talent, yet this game of chess nearly shattered her composure.

"Worthy of being Lord of Revelation, thank you for your guidance," she acknowledged.

Fortunately, the young Seraph girl quickly adjusted her mindset, just as when she did not blow up after losing to "Guigu Zhuge," the big shot from the Judgment Court. Now, losing to the military genius, the God of War known as "Fate Revelation," who was as renowned as her idol, wasn't a blow to her pride.

The fact that "Fate Revelation" was far younger than she had imagined and merely a student from the Witch Academy who had not even seen a real battlefield, and not the veteran of war everyone had assumed, made it even more agonizing.

After all, losing to an amateur student when you're a group of professional military strategists—what could be more disheartening?

And what kind of guidance was that? Despite her crushing defeat in War Chess against "Guigu Zhuge," she managed to glean some minor insights afterward. But after clashing with the "Fate Revelation," she didn't even understand how she lost. Nothing but despair. There was no silver lining at all.