Chapter Fifteen: The Swamp’s Chessboard

The first time she encountered an opponent wielding a card, he was already a tough contender who had fought in eighty-four battles.

Hearing this statistic, Ye Zhengliu had no illusions left.

The despair others felt when assigned to face the Soul Reaper’s arena now translated into a complex mix of emotions within her.

Countless souls had perished beneath the Soul Reaper’s blade; anyone who faced him inevitably met death.

This battle was no different. From the moment Ye Zhengliu stepped onto the platform, all eyes regarded her as though she were already dead—a mere cannon fodder.

Of course, judging by her identity and appearance, she was quite a distinctive, eye-catching kind of cannon fodder.

Ye Zhengliu: “...” Thanks, but no comfort there.

Although she had prepared for facing formidable opponents like this, the fact that the day had come so early was truly...

Cursing inwardly, she preemptively activated the first skill of Du Mu’s card, quietly tightening her grip on the sword’s hilt.

A swamp...

If the card was a swamp, what kind of combat styles could she expect?

Her gaze flickered repeatedly over several vital points on the opponent’s body, while the man—solid as a rock—watched her movements silently.

Almost at the precise moment the announcer declared the start of the fight, the man raised his wrist toward Ye Zhengliu. His movements were large and forceful, paying no heed to the announcer standing between them.

The announcer, having presided over many men’s battles, instantly recognized the threat in the sudden wrist lift.

Reacting swiftly and sacrificing all dignity, he dove to the ground, rolling and scrambling beneath the tightly stretched silk curtain to escape the platform, prompting laughter from the private rooms overlooking the arena.

As for Ye Zhengliu, she only saw the arrow beneath her feet shift with incredible speed, spinning sharply by one hundred and twenty degrees in sync with the man’s motion.

Her pupils contracted subtly at the sight of the arrow on the ground.

With the opponent’s attack, the skill “The Herdsman Points to Apricot Blossom Village” changed—the arrow’s usual pale green instantly turning a vivid, sharp red.

As if afraid its presence might go unnoticed, the red arrow flickered brightly, its existence strikingly prominent.

Years of crossing streets and reacting to traffic lights trained Ye Zhengliu; the moment the arrow changed color, she instinctively dodged in the arrow’s indicated direction.

The next instant, a dark brown mud line brushed past her shoulder.

—【Item Card: Swamp, Skill “Mud” activated.】

The mud line ended in a large, limp mass of soft sludge, reeking of a foul stench.

Missing Ye Zhengliu, it flew straight ahead and slammed with a “plop” into an invisible, intangible air barrier at the edge of the red silk-bordered platform.

The mud mass lingered on the unseen wall for a moment, as if reluctant to let go. When it confirmed no target to entangle, it slowly slid down the barrier, even releasing a dirty bubble in stubborn protest.

Though it landed, the glob of rot still churned with mud like a living creature severed from some life form.

Ye Zhengliu was wholly unaware of the scene unfolding behind her.

Because the instant the first mud line missed, the man simultaneously raised both wrists and, with palms bent backward, launched two fresh strands of muddy sludge at her.

In response, the arrows beneath Ye Zhengliu’s feet flashed more intensely and rapidly, their color deepening to an even more vivid red.

She hurriedly followed the arrow’s shifting guidance, barely steadying herself before new mud lines whistled past her side.

If the situation weren’t so urgent, and the flashing red arrows didn’t portend such ill omen, Ye Zhengliu might have asked the man: “Are you some kind of dark version of Spider-Man with moves like that?”

In this small arena, dragons and tigers lay hidden—there was the feral Soul Reaper, and now this swamp man, a Spider-Man of sorts by unnatural design. Heaven only knew what kind of bizarre harmony between man and nature this represented.

Thinking so, Ye Zhengliu dodged six or seven mud lines in quick succession.

She didn’t yet know what would happen if she were hit, but given the opponent’s impressive record of eighty-four victories, she resolved not to be struck even once.

By now, she had found the rhythm of the arrows beneath her feet, stepping securely on the paths they directed. Her mind could finally turn to devising a strategy against this foe.

From the combat style, the swamp man was clearly a mage.

It was well known that mages were powerful at range but weak in close quarters. Getting close enough to strike meant one could beat them thoroughly.

Therefore, the first step in fighting a mage was choosing the right melee profession.

She had to close the distance.

The moment Ye Zhengliu conceived this thought, the arrows beneath her feet seemed to sense her intention, instantly shifting.

No longer merely guiding evasive maneuvers, the arrows now led her step by step directly toward the swamp man.

Ye Zhengliu pressed down firmly on the arrows. Mud lines whizzed past her ears, each a sharp hiss as they sliced through the air.

Steadily following the arrows, she inched closer to her opponent, momentarily feeling as if she were playing a real-life version of a rhythm game.

As the distance closed, the opponent’s attacks grew faster.

Her reaction time shrank; her dodges became increasingly desperate and precarious. The final seven steps were almost purely instinctual muscle memory.

At last, Ye Zhengliu circled to the man’s side, closing to less than two meters.

This was the perfect moment. Her light sword was already in hand, the tip casting a shadow on the man’s temple.

Without hesitation, she silently murmured the phrase “A ten-year dream of Yangzhou,” stepped forward swiftly, and thrust her sword.

The instant the blade touched the man’s temple, surprise flickered in both their eyes.

Ye Zhengliu’s sword had indeed struck a soft, yielding object—but it was not human skin.

Suddenly, a thick layer of soft, rotten mud inflamed around the man’s entire body.

This sludge was nearly a foot thick, sticky and mushy, impervious to stabbing or slashing. It clung faithfully to the man, forming a natural shield superior even to leather armor.

—【Item Card: Swamp, Skill “Mud Armor” activated.】

Effect: When the cardholder is attacked, a layer of mud instantly forms over their vital areas, protecting them.

The opponent had activated “Mud Armor” even before Ye Zhengliu triggered Du Mu’s second skill.

Thus, the moment Ye Zhengliu slowed time, the man’s armor took shape as well.

The five-second golden window passed in an instant; time resumed its normal flow.

Gritting her teeth, Ye Zhengliu forcibly withdrew her light sword from the swampy, adhesive suction, stepping back swiftly.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to linger around the opponent, waiting for the right moment. But if she delayed even slightly, she would be swallowed whole by the swelling shield of mud.

Unlike her opponent, she could not breathe within the swamp she did not create.

If the mud covered her mouth and nose, suffocation was inevitable.

She retreated three steps in a flash. The mud surrounding the swamp man had swollen nearly into a spherical shield but then began to wane.

In that brief pause, Ye Zhengliu glanced sideways at her sword, still dripping with mud.

Only the tip bore a faint line of crimson.

Clearly, her thrust had not missed entirely, but compared to the opponent’s defense, she was just a beat late.

Missing such a golden opportunity was truly frustrating.

Silently sighing, Ye Zhengliu fixed her gaze on her opponent’s movements, fully aware that the coming moments would be difficult.

Sure enough, no sooner had the mud shield receded halfway than the man launched a barrage of mud pellets at her, forcing her to dart around like a rabbit in a cage.

If it weren’t for daily sparring sessions with the Soul Reaper that had improved her reflexes and stamina manyfold, she would not have lasted this long.

The swamp man was a natural turret; merely standing there made him a formidable force. Competing against such an opponent, Ye Zhengliu half wanted to report him for cheating.

She waited for the cooldown of “A Ten-Year Dream of Yangzhou,” ready to spend the nine accumulated card draws if necessary.

The mud pellets came fast and relentless; Ye Zhengliu dodged each one.

After several minutes of this, she glanced back inadvertently.

At the edge of the air barrier, mud stains traced a perfect square.

Unwittingly, she had been chased around the entire arena by these mud pellets.

The soft mud on the ground still bubbled and churned like a viscous, living mass.

Out of caution, she avoided stepping on mud-covered patches, which severely limited her evasion space.

Concentrating intently on the trajectory of the next mud line, Ye Zhengliu noticed the man’s wrist visibly shift.

The new mud line veered sharply, missing her position by seventy or eighty degrees, splattering harmlessly on the ground before reaching the air barrier.

Though the attack was ineffective, her heart skipped a beat.

What was he trying to do?

Was he attempting to cover the ground with mud?

No—if the mud served no purpose, she could have simply stepped on it to dispel the ruse. There would be no reason for him to clumsily scatter mud so late.

If the mud was still usable on the ground, he would have fired it everywhere from the start rather than chasing her.

As she pondered, the man rapidly fired eight mud pellets at the ground.

Four landed around him, outlining a small square, then four more filled the corners, each side composed of three mud pellets, forming a perfect, square-shaped board.

Had this been a less serious setting, Ye Zhengliu might have thought it a simple elementary math problem.

But now...

Watching the eight pellets placed so precisely, a sudden thought struck her.

The shape...

She looked up and saw the man standing firmly at the arena’s exact center.

Normally, such a large turret-like swamp man would stand against the air barrier for safety. His choice of position meant...

Wait, no—

Eyes wide, Ye Zhengliu sprang forward without hesitation.

Her “Ten-Year Dream of Yangzhou” was still cooling down, but she paid it no mind.

The swamp man’s gaze was cold and lifeless.

Watching Ye Zhengliu charge headlong toward his feet, his rocklike face broke into the first mocking smile since the match began.

He was surprised she had figured out the trick.

But even so, she was too late.

This girl had thrown off his focus and slowed his reflexes, almost causing him to stumble. Even with “Mud Armor,” she had pierced his flesh slightly.

But that was all she could manage.

The man raised his hand, palm vertical and pointed straight down, aiming just half an inch ahead of his toes, and released a mud line.

The pellet struck the ground with a final “plop,” like the last chess piece settling.

At that moment, Ye Zhengliu was three steps away.

The sound of the mud hitting the ground seemed to drag her heart into an abyss.

Suddenly, the entire platform was engulfed in a layer of bubbling, foul-smelling, sticky swamp.

The muck rapidly rose to Ye Zhengliu’s calves, leaving her nowhere to flee.

Where there had been an invisible, intangible swamp, now countless grasping hands seemed to sprout—clinging to her calves, pulling her downward.

The thick mud swelled with the wind. A mere reflexive struggle caused it to surge to her abdomen.

—【Item Card: Swamp, Skill “Swamp Chess” activated.】

Effect: Pieces have pawns, mud has pellets. After outlining a chessboard area with mud pellets, placing mud pieces on the eight stars and the center point summons a swamp within that area.

With such a terrifying skill, it was no wonder this man had won eighty-four battles in a row.

To be fair, the “Swamp” card wasn’t especially powerful.

Its early attack strength was weak, activation time too long, and the caster was basically a stationary damage turret...

But in this sealed arena defined by an air barrier, where escape was impossible, its effectiveness was nearly invincible.

Able to attack, defend, and endure, with a board-clearing ultimate skill—unless an opponent could instantly kill the man or fly away, the swamp man was nearly untouchable.