The Villain Professor's Second Chance

I turned back to face her, my expression calm and composed. "I was merely wondering, Your Majesty," I began, choosing my words carefully, "if you've ever had any interest in playing Go?"

For a brief moment, confusion crossed her features, and she raised an eyebrow. "Go?" she repeated, as though the word itself was foreign to her. "That old game with the stones and a boring board? Why would I waste my time on something like that?"

I allowed myself a small, almost imperceptible smile. "It's far more than just a game, Your Majesty. It's a battle of strategy, a war where every move counts. A simple mistake can lead to defeat, and a single, well-placed stone can turn the tide of the entire match. In many ways, it's not unlike the challenges you'll soon face as queen."

"Of course, I knew what the game was. Those cheeky ministers also said that only to end up crying after getting defeated by me," Her eyes narrowed, but I could see her interest piqued, though she tried to hide it behind her usual air of indifference. "So, what? You're saying I could learn something from it?"

"Perhaps," I replied, my tone measured. "If you're up for another challenge, that is."

Her lips curled into a smirk, and I knew she wouldn't be able to resist.

With a slow, deliberate smirk, Queen Aurelia extended her hand. Without even glancing at the shelf behind her, she called upon her psychokinesis. The Go board, nestled between a few thick tomes and various ornamental objects, slid smoothly from its place. Its movement was fluid, elegant, the board gliding through the air and resting itself gently on the table between us.

Her control over her newfound power was remarkable, especially given that she had only begun experimenting with psychokinesis mere moments ago.

I watched her with narrowed eyes, quietly impressed. Not only had she mastered this new ability far quicker than I anticipated, but the precision with which she handled it was... unnerving. She hadn't even looked at the shelf. It spoke volumes of her natural talent, her memory, and her remarkable ability to retain details about her surroundings.

Aurelia noticed my gaze and, sensing the shift in my expression, her smirk widened.

"What's the matter, bastard?" she asked with a teasing edge to her voice. "Surprised? Didn't think I'd be this good so quickly?"

I chose not to respond, keeping my face impassive, but inside, I couldn't help but admire her abilities. She was a fast learner—perhaps too fast. It was both her greatest strength and her greatest flaw. She relied too much on her natural talent and raw power. Discipline and strategy, those were the keys she lacked.

She placed the Go board on the table between us and sat back in her chair, crossing her legs with the same air of lazy confidence she always carried. "But don't get too cocky, Draven," she warned, leaning forward slightly. "It wouldn't be very becoming if you lost all that confidence because of a little game."

I allowed myself the barest hint of a smile, knowing full well it would irritate her.

"What's that look for?" Aurelia snapped, her fiery temper surfacing as she narrowed her eyes at me. "What are you smiling at, bastard?"

I immediately reverted to my usual indifferent expression, not missing a beat. "I'm not sure what you mean, Your Majesty. I don't recall smiling."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, obviously annoyed, but she said nothing more.

"As for this little game," I continued, ignoring her irritation, "if I win, I have one condition."

Her eyebrow arched, a mixture of curiosity and amusement playing on her face. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"If I win," I said, keeping my voice calm, "you'll commit yourself to learning magic from the basics. Every day, we'll focus on mastering the fundamentals before challenging me again at Go. And should you win during those challenges, I'll grant you a day off or perhaps a shorter class for the next session. A reward for your victory."

Aurelia's eyes gleamed with amusement, though there was a flicker of something else—a subtle challenge dancing in her gaze. "You're making it sound like you actually think you'll win, Draven," she replied, her tone dripping with confidence. "Fine. But when I beat you, don't cry about it."

Her words were laced with bravado, but there was something else there. A slight hesitation, perhaps? A part of her seemed irked, maybe even offended, that I had dared to suggest she needed to start from the basics. It was as though my offer to tutor her in magic had stung her pride. But, as always, Aurelia hid her vulnerability behind a wall of confidence and vulgarity.

"Let's get this over with," she said, leaning forward with an eager glint in her eye. "And don't think I won't take a day off just because I beat you at some stupid game."

I nodded, gesturing toward the Go board. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Let's begin."

herself—too confident, perhaps. But I knew better than to underestimate her. Beneath the veil of arrogance and vulgarity, she was a sharp and calculating opponent.

I placed the first stone on the board, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. Aurelia's eyes flickered to the spot where I'd placed it, and she let out a small chuckle. She leaned forward, picked up a stone of her own, and placed it down with a casual, almost dismissive air.

The opening moves were standard enough, but I watched her carefully, studying the subtle way her eyes flicked over the board, how her fingers twitched ever so slightly as if considering all the possibilities. She was testing me, feeling out my strategy without revealing too much of her own.

It was exactly what I expected, and yet, there was something else beneath the surface—something that made me uneasy.

I responded to her move, laying my stone down in a deliberate fashion, thinking several steps ahead. The game of Go was simple in appearance but devilishly complex in practice. Each stone could determine the fate of the entire board if placed correctly, and Aurelia had the raw talent to grasp that instinctively.

But Go was more than just a game of instinct—it was about control, strategy, and patience.

As we played, I began to recognize her approach. It wasn't the careless, chaotic style she often showed in other areas. No, her movements were calculated, reminiscent of a strategy I knew well from the modern world. I paused, narrowing my eyes at the board.

The Great Wall Opening.

It was a defensive strategy, one where the player gradually built up an unassailable position, blocking off large sections of the board while appearing to play passively. She was waiting for me to overextend myself, for me to make a mistake so she could take control.

My eyes flicked up to meet hers, but she gave nothing away. The smirk remained, her posture relaxed, but I could sense her focus. I made my next move, countering her wall by expanding into neutral territory. The click of the stone sounded louder than before, the tension between us thickening with each passing turn.

"You're not bad, bastard," she said, her voice soft but laced with amusement. "But you'll need more than these old moves to win."

I didn't respond, my focus entirely on the game. As I placed another stone, I could feel the weight of each decision, the energy in the room shifting. She was playing well—too well, in fact. Each of her moves flowed seamlessly into the next, and I began to realize that this wasn't just talent. She had played before, studied before, and her mind was working at a level that belied her casual demeanor.

I knew that if I relied only on my intellect, she might catch me off guard. She was adapting quickly, faster than I had anticipated. If I didn't shift my approach soon, she'd outmaneuver me. I took a breath, closing my eyes for a brief moment as I tapped into my skill, [Comprehension]. Enjoy more content from empire

Instantly, I felt the shift. My mana coursed through me, allowing my mind to stretch beyond the limits of ordinary thought. The world around me became sharper, the pieces on the board revealing their intricate connections. I could sense the flow of her strategy, the undercurrents of her moves, the way she was building toward a trap that would ensnare me if I wasn't careful.

I made another move, this time using the information from [Comprehension] to block her advance. Aurelia's eyes narrowed, her fingers hovering over the stones as she considered her next move. She hesitated, just for a moment, before placing her stone.

The tension in the room spiked as I recognized the formation she was building—a Large Avalanche, a pattern that, if left unchecked, could sweep across the board and crush my defenses.

She was good—too good.

But I had [Comprehension]. I could see through it, predict the ripple effect her moves would have. I made a calculated decision, countering the Avalanche with a splitting strategy, dispersing her momentum before it could build.

For the first time, I saw a flicker of surprise in her eyes.