The 3rd Rank of the White Hegemony was not a place for subtlety. It was the "Industrial Square," a massive hub of gears, pistons, and conveyor belts that moved the resources of the kingdom. And currently, it was being leveled by a stolen tank.
Itachi sat atop the Sentinel Rook tank, his hand resting on the hull. He had used his newly unlocked [Rook-Shift], a skill that allowed him to temporarily "fuse" his consciousness with a heavy piece. His eyes were no longer blank; they were glowing with the HUD of the tank's targeting computer.
"This is remarkably efficient," Itachi said, his voice amplified by the tank's external speakers. "Why does anyone bother with swords?"
Lyra stood on the back of the tank, hanging onto a handrail as the machine crushed a squad of White interceptors under its massive treads. "Because most people aren't insane enough to hot-wire a literal god-machine with their own nervous system, Itachi! You're bleeding from your ears!"
"A minor calculation error in mana-pressure," Itachi replied, even as a fresh trail of blood ran down his chin. "Bas, 2 o'clock. Another barricade."
Bas was running alongside the tank, using the machine's massive frame as mobile cover. He looked like he was having the time of his life. "Move aside, boys! The big dog's got a new toy!"
The tank's turret swiveled with a predatory hum. BOOM. The barricade, along with the fifty White Pawns behind it, evaporated in a plume of white-hot plasma.
[Rank Upgrade Progress: 15% (3rd Rank)]
"The gore is becoming... repetitive," Itachi muttered, watching the charred remains of the enemy fly past. "I need more variety in my targets. The System is beginning to plateau the XP gains from standard infantry."
"Variety?!" Lyra screamed over the roar of the engine. "We have the entire 3rd Rank military coming for us! Isn't that enough variety?!"
"No," Itachi said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the horizon. "There."
From the upper spires of the Industrial Square, four figures were descending. They didn't use parachutes. They flew on wings of solid light.
[Warning: High-Rank Pieces Detected]
[Target: The White Bishops – 'The Tetrarchs']
"Bishops," Bas spat, skidding to a halt. "Long-range casters. They'll snipe the treads off this thing before we can get a lock."
The four Bishops landed in a diamond formation, three hundred yards away. They raised their staves in unison. The air began to vibrate with a high-pitched frequency that made Itachi's teeth ache.
"Initiating 'Divine Judgment' protocol," the lead Bishop intoned.
A pillar of pure, white light descended from the ceiling, slamming into the front of the tank. The reinforced armor began to melt like wax.
"Itachi! Exit strategy! Now!" Lyra yelled.
Itachi didn't move. He was calculating. Distance: 300 meters. Mana density: Critical. Enemy formation: Static.
"Bas, Lyra. Get off the tank," Itachi ordered.
"What about you?"
"I'm going to test a theory about 'Sacrifice,'" Itachi said.
As they leapt clear, Itachi stood up on the melting hull of the tank. He looked at the Bishops, who were pouring more and more energy into the strike, thinking they had trapped the "glitch" in a metal tomb.
"You think the Rook is the threat," Itachi whispered, his voice cold and sharp. "But the Rook is just a delivery system."
He triggered the tank's self-destruct sequence, but he didn't set it to explode. He set the mana-core to [Overload: Compression Mode]. Then, he activated [Stubborn Advance] not to move forward, but to stay in the center of the blast.
The tank detonated. But instead of a fireball, it created a concentrated lance of energy. Itachi, using his Pawn-passive to redirect the "momentum" of the explosion, rode the blast wave like a surfer on a wave of fire.
He moved so fast the Bishops couldn't even track him with their God-Eyes.
In a fraction of a second, Itachi was in the center of their diamond formation. He was smoking, his skin peeling, his eyes bloodshot and terrifying. He looked like a corpse that had refused to stop walking.
"Surprise," he deadpanned.
He reached out and grabbed two of the Bishops by their throats.
[Double Capture Initiated]
[Shadow Syphon: Maximum Output]
The screams of the Bishops echoed through the Industrial Square as Itachi literally tore the light out of them. Their wings flickered and died. Their staves shattered.
By the time Bas and Lyra caught up, the smoke was clearing. Itachi was standing over four empty sets of white robes. He was holding four Bishop Cores in his hands, staring at them with a look of intense, clinical curiosity.
"Too much light," Itachi muttered, his voice raspy. "It gives me a headache."
He turned to his companions. He looked like he was about to collapse, but he held up the cores.
"We're moving to the 4th Rank. The 'Mid-game' is over," Itachi said.
He then paused, looked at a severed Bishop finger on the floor, and did a double-take. "Wait. Did one of them actually have a gold tooth? How tacky."
Bas let out a bark of laughter, despite the horror. "Kid, if we survive this, I'm buying you a drink. Or a therapist. Probably both."
[Rank Upgrade Progress: 60% (3rd Rank)]
[Status: Critical Mana Exhaustion]
[New Path Available: The Bishop's Path]
Itachi looked at the new prompt. "No," he whispered. "I'm not becoming a Bishop. I'm becoming the whole Board."