Chapter 83: Heroes (3)

Chapter 83: Heroes (3)

As Dale charged in menacingly, the scribe hurriedly spread his arms wide. He then started reciting an incantation.

The old books that had been piled up like a mountain began to float gently into the air and a strong magical power was released.

A mage?

Dale had not thought the scribe a mere ordinary old man, but he turned out to be a mage of a higher caliber than expected.

With a swing of his arm, Dale knocked away the floating books.

At the same moment, books that had been hanging on the bookshelf came tumbling down and rained down on Dales head like a torrent.

Thud! Thump!

Heavy books pummeled Dale and attempted to cling to him as if the books themselves possessed a will of their own.

Yet, Dale remained unfazed. Such attempts were not enough to inflict damage on him.

Dale turned his head to the side. Suddenly, a carpet slithering like a snake crawled toward him and tried to wrap itself around his body.

Dale pierced the carpet with his cursed sword, then stepped on one hem of the carpet and tore it in half.

And as if it was actually alive, the carpet writhed in agony before collapsing lifelessly to the floor.

The scribe cried out,

No! My carpet!

Strangely enough, the voice seemed to come from above.

Dale lifted his gaze upward.

Atop the highest shelf of the wall cabinet stood the old scribe.

You brute! You must listen to the end when someone is speaking!

The scribe lashed out and started waving his arms furiously in indignation.

Dale looked up at the scribe and retorted,

But did you not propose a fight?

Who said anything about brandishing weapons in a fight, huh? People should use their heads and engage in a battle of wits!

Dale paused for a moment and then said.

Cant we just fight with weapons? Its simpler that way for me.

Shut up! If youre not going to do as I say, then just leave!

Dale swallowed a sigh and conceded,

Alright, come down from there.

The scribe glanced down below and then spoke in a quiet voice.

I cant come down.

And why is that?Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

Ive used up all my magical power just now.

For just that?

Just that? Even this much is quite an achievement! And, battle magic isnt my specialty!

Dale spread his arms wide while offering,

Jump down. Ill catch you.

Are you really going to catch me? Youre not planning to let me fall and die on purpose, are you?

You can stay up there if you prefer.

The scribe cleared his throat once, as if he wasnt happy about that, then swallowed hard and jumped down.

Thud.

Dale skillfully caught the scribe under his arms.

The old man was thin and light as a feather and hardly weighed anything.

. Put me down.

When the scribe spoke sheepishly, Dale gently set him on the ground.

As he took a closer look at the old man, Dale noticed how short he was. It was unusually so unless he was a dwarf.

The scribe seemed to have noticed that gaze and said.

Just so theres no misunderstanding, Im a half-gnome and half-human. Im actually quite tall for my kind.

Dale thought about the height of Leon, the gnome he had met a while ago. The scribe didnt seem particularly taller than Leon, but he chose not to mention that.

Instead, he asked another question,

Youre a mage?

Why would I wear such a ridiculous hat if I werent a mage?

The scribe pointed to the large pointed hat perched on his head.

Dale had to agree.

Thats a fair point.

You could have at least pretended the hat was stylish over there!

What was he supposed to do about that?

Seriously, thats the problem with the youth these days.

Dale was beginning to tire of dealing with this old mage. Before the conversation could stray further, he steered it back to the main topic.

So, what exactly is this challenge youre proposing?

Ah, yes, we were discussing that, werent we?

The scribe stroked his white beard with a smug air.

Records hold immeasurable value. Everyone overlooks this fact, but paper and ink are the true drivers of our societys progress. I cant just hand over something so precious to just anyone.

Typical of a mage to be so wordy.

The librarian watched the progress on the chessboard as if he was spellbound.

After a few more moves, the outcome was clear. Dale then declared,

It seems the match is decided.

The scribe said through gritted teeth.

. Best two out of three.

?

Thats right! The true victor is determined by winning twice!

.

Both Dale and the librarian looked at the scribe with a mix of pity and disbelief.

Despite his face turning a bright shade of red, the scribe stood firm on his words.

He refused to back down and stubbornly started resetting the pieces on the board.

It seems both mages and giants are a stubborn bunch.

Dale shook his head and lined up his white pieces.

The scribe had underestimated Dale, who actually possessed a chess skill level that was quite advanced.

This was the natural outcome.

After all, there wasnt much else to do at the time.

Dale often played with the children at the orphanage and spent time with them along with his grandfather.

However, the entertainment options suitable for the orphanage children were limited.

They played football during the day, and at night, they resorted to chess or Go.

Naturally, playing every day led to significant improvement. Over time, the childrens skills rose.

But the children didnt stop there.

One day, a particularly bright child memorized the chess moves on a computer.

At that time, chess had already been conquered by computers.

Memorizing such computer moves essentially meant becoming unbeatable in the orphanage.

From that day forward, all the children began memorizing the moves and striving to win. And Dale was no exception.

Chess was no longer about fun and fostering friendships; it was about playing to win with a cold and mechanical approach.

This chess craze continued in the orphanage until a day arrived when it eventually faded.

I really went through a lot back then.

It was such an absurd event at the time.

Dales grandfather, who was not familiar with the new trends of the world, would click his tongue in disapproval and start wondering what bizarre antics these children were doing.

But in hindsight, all of that too became a fond memory for Dale.

I wonder how the kids are doing now.

And the efforts made back then shone through in such a place, after all this time.

Dale moved his pieces without much hesitation.

Each time he did, the scribes eyes would wildly dart around.

The scribe swallowed hard.

What in the world What could possibly be the meaning behind this move?

Cold sweat ran down his forehead.

Until now, no opponent he faced before had ever made such a move. The scribe found it impossible to decipher Dales intentions.

He tried to read Dales psychology through his facial expressions, but that too was no easy task.

Because no emotions could be discerned from Dales impassive face.

The scribe, who was confident he would never lose to a human, thought the previous game was lost due to a momentary lapse in concentration.

However, the scribe felt something different this time.

Its like theres no thought in the moves, as if Im playing against a rock.

It was like facing a massive wall.

With each move, the scribes hands slowed down, and the situation on the board grew increasingly dire.

And the result was a crushing defeat just like before.

The scribe stared blankly at the chessboard and then Dale spoke.

It seems I have won.

Now is the time to keep your promise. I trust youre not considering changing your words at this point.

Grrr.

Seemingly in frustration, the scribe gritted his teeth and extended his hand to the side.

Following this gesture, several books scattered carelessly on the floor flew into his hand. The scribe presented the books.

These are records of factual events involving the heroes; theyre compiled solely from verified incidents. I have recorded these myself, so there should be no falsehoods.

Dale took the books and he grew surprised by their volume. It looked like the events were recorded in great detail.

Having achieved his goal, Dale was about to leave when the old man grabbed the hem of his cloak.

What is it?

The scribe cleared his throat sheepishly before speaking.

Play one more game with me. I think Im starting to grasp your strategy. I believe I could win if we played again!

Dale looked intently at the scribe and asked.

For free?

The scribes face contorted wildly.