Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

The following morning, every cadet went through their morning routines before heading to their respective classes. Today, the first-year cadets would receive their mission assignments and head out into the field.

Nero and the others were no exception. The cadets from S-Class were all present. Barak was glaring at Nero, but Nero ignored him. He sat with Lux, Adam, and Blake. Khione sat near the front; there was no formal seating distinction between Knights and Mages today.

Balrog arrived and looked over his students for a moment before smirking. He released a little of his strength, letting his aura press gently against them.

”Young’uns, today you’ll be assigned your first mission outside.”

He paused, watching their reactions. Seeing the eager light in their eyes, he chuckled—that was exactly what he wanted to see. He continued.

”You’ll form teams of three: two Knights and one Mage. The teams have already been decided.”

He began announcing the teams. Lux, Barak, and a mage were on one team. Adam, Azalea, and another female mage formed another.

Then he reached Nero’s team. ”Nero, Khione, and Elreth—you’re together.”

Nero massaged his temple, already sensing trouble. The two girls didn’t exchange a word, but the atmosphere between them grew instantly tense, almost explosive. Even Balrog, their teacher, didn’t dare to meddle. He coughed and looked elsewhere before continuing his explanation.

”Missions are categorized into six levels,” he said, regaining his composure. ”The sixth level is the most dangerous and is only for second-year cadets. Naturally, for your first mission outside, you’ve been given a low-level task: investigation and handling minor monster disturbances. Each team will depart immediately.”

Once dismissed, the newly formed teams gathered. Nero looked at his two teammates, his expression serious.

”I’ll be the leader of this team. Any objections?”

The girls looked at each other for a brief moment, then nodded—Khione with cool acceptance, Elreth with a graceful, diplomatic smile.

”Let’s go,” Nero said, leading the group out of the academy.

They boarded the super train heading toward their destination. Khione sat beside Nero, close and quiet. Elreth took the seat across from them, her smile still in place. No words were exchanged among the trio as the train began to glide forward.

After some time, Elreth broke the silence. ”Why not play a game of chess to pass the time?”

Nero and Khione glanced at each other, then back at her. It was a reasonable suggestion—a good way to kill time without unnecessary conversation.

”Alright,” Nero agreed. Khione gave a slight, indifferent nod.

Elreth’s smile widened just a fraction as she produced a small, elegant traveling chess set from her bag, setting it up on the small table between them.

The super train slid through the landscape, a silent silver bullet against a backdrop of blurring green hills and distant mountains. Inside their private cabin, the only sounds were the soft hum of the tracks, the occasional click of a chess piece, and the faint rustle of a cookie bag.

Elreth set up the board with practiced ease. The pieces were finely crafted—the knights were tiny, rearing dragons, the bishops wore miniature miters, and the queens stood with a regal sharpness that made both girls glance at them for a second too long. Nero took black. Elreth, with a gracious nod, took white.

The first game began in total silence. No discussion of rules, no commentary. The rivalry that crackled in the air just minutes ago was set aside, folded neatly like a piece of paper and tucked away. Here, on this sixty-four-square battlefield, a different kind of contest took place.

Elreth opened with a classical, conservative move, advancing her king’s pawn. Nero responded in kind, mirroring her for a few turns before branching into a defensive setup. It was a feeling-out process. Khione watched, not just Nero’s pieces, but Elreth’s fingers—how they hovered, confident and sure, before making a move. She noted how Nero’s jaw tightened slightly when he saw a potential trap, and how he would retreat not with panic, but with a recalculation that often opened a new, unexpected line of attack.

About fifteen minutes in, Elreth opened a small, elegant box she’d brought, revealing delicate, sugar-dusted shortbread cookies. She offered it first to Khione. A simple, gesture. Khione looked at the box, then at Elreth’s expectant face. After a beat, she took one with a slight, almost imperceptible nod. Elreth then offered the box to Nero. He took two with a grunt of thanks, his eyes never leaving the board.

The silence continued, now punctuated by the soft crunch of shortbread. Nero, chewing, captured one of Elreth’s bishops with his knight. Elreth’s eyebrow twitched. She didn’t retaliate immediately. She slid her queen across the board, putting Nero’s king in check and simultaneously threatening his now-undefended knight. It was a sharp, elegant move.

Nero leaned back, a flicker of respect in his eyes. He took a long sip from a can of cold cola, the fizz sounding loud in the quiet cabin. He moved his king to safety, sacrificing the knight he’d just used. He’d traded a minor victory for strategic survival. The game went on, balanced on a knife’s edge.

Khione, halfway through her cookie, watched them. She saw not a princess and her target, or a rival and her boyfriend. She saw two sharp minds at work. Elreth’s play was like her fire—controlled, positional, building pressure until it could unleash a winning combination. Nero’s was more like his own style: adaptable, sometimes seeming scattered, but with sudden, startling bursts of aggressive clarity.

The first game ended in a stalemate after forty-five minutes. The board was littered with captured pieces. Neither had been able to deliver checkmate. They looked at the board, then at each other. Elreth gave a small, genuine smile. Nero returned it with a nod.

Without a word, they reset the pieces. This time, Khione opened the cola cans, passing them around. The simple, shared acts—the cookies, the drinks—were slowly weaving a thin thread of civility over the chasm of their circumstances.

The second game was different. Emboldened by the draw, they both opened more aggressively. Nero sacrificed a pawn early to gain control of the center. Elreth allowed it, using the space to develop her bishops to powerful, diagonal lines that cut across the board. They traded pieces rapidly—a rook for a knight, a bishop for two pawns.

Khione found herself leaning forward slightly, her analytical mind engaged. She predicted Elreth’s next move three turns in advance—a fork targeting Nero’s queen and rook. Nero saw it too, a turn later. He scowled, swirling the cola in his can. He couldn’t save both. He moved his queen to safety, letting Elreth take his rook.

But the sacrifice gave him an opening. With Elreth’s pieces slightly overextended from their attack, he launched a counter-assault with his remaining knight and queen. It wasn’t a graceful, long-term strategy. It was a brawl. A piece-for-piece trade that left the board nearly empty.

Soon, it was just Nero’s king and two pawns against Elreth’s king and one pawn. Another deadlock. Another inevitable draw.

Elreth let out a soft, amused breath. ”It seems we are evenly matched on this battlefield as well.”

Nero chuckled, the sound relaxed and unexpected. ”Guess so. Your mid-game is scary.”

”And your end-game resilience is... frustrating,” Elreth replied, though her tone was light.

They shared the last of the cookies. The train began to slow, the scenery outside shifting to rocky foothills and dense pine forests. Their destination was approaching.