Chapter 541 — Goal Is To Win

Lysander’s hands trembled against the floor, his body shaking from something that went beyond simple fear.

The Sage straightened, standing again, looking down at Lysander’s kneeling form.

"I showed you all of this to make you understand a simple truth."

His voice became harder, carrying command.

"You already made your choice in the future. The conflict, the hesitation, the internal debate about filial duty..."

He paused.

"All of that is just noise preventing you from acting fast enough."

His hand extended, offering to help Lysander up.

But Lysander remained kneeling, his head lifting to look at the Sage directly.

"So when the time comes, when everything starts to unfold..."

The Sage’s voice continued, ignoring the refusal of assistance.

"You must be the first one to arrive."

His masked face tracked across Lysander’s expression.

"And you must convince him to not activate his skill despite everything that happens."

The words hung in the air between them, carrying implications that made Lysander’s stomach turn.

"And if he can’t do it?"

Lysander’s whisper emerged broken and desperate.

"If he can’t control it, if the instinct is too strong, if there’s no way to stop it from happening..."

His voice gained edges despite the weakness underneath.

"What then?"

The Sage remained silent for three heartbeats.

Then his answer came, quiet but carrying finality.

"Then you must use your skill as many times as possible to make sure he chooses differently."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"Even if it means going until the last possible attempt, even if it costs you everything..."

Lysander’s hands trembled against the floor, understanding settling with cold clarity.

’That’s why he came here before everything happened...’

The thought came sharp and certain.

’To make sure I won’t waste any attempt to bring myself back. To make sure every attempt is preserved for the boy...’

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating.

Then Lysander’s voice exploded across the room, rage breaking through the shock.

"Do you understand what you’re talking about?!"

He pushed himself to his feet, his legs shaking but holding.

"Hasn’t he already suffered enough because of all of you?!"

His hands clenched into fists, knuckles going white.

"You want me to put him through that hell over and over, force him to relive one of the worst moments of his life until he breaks completely?!"

The Sage’s voice cut through the rage, sharp and absolute.

"Between suffering and death, which one do you think is better?"

The question sat between them, unanswerable and terrible.

Lysander’s mouth opened, then closed, his hands falling to his sides.

Then his voice emerged again, quieter but carrying desperation.

"Is there no other way?"

His eyes tracked across the Sage’s masked face, searching for something that wasn’t there.

"What if I kill Brian before Kinsley can use him? What if I evacuate everyone before they can be captured? What if I–"

"If Kaiser was here..."

The Sage’s interruption came soft but cutting.

"Then even if Damian’s identity was revealed to everyone, he alone could have shielded his disciple from the entire world."

He paused, letting the tension build.

"Only a madman like him could make it possible. Only he could stand against the entire Imperial Council and make them back down."

His masked face turned away, looking toward nothing.

"But he’s not here. And without him..."

The Sage’s voice became harder.

"The only choice left is to make Kinsley firmly believe that Damian couldn’t possibly be a Bloodworth."

Silence spread between them like oil across water, heavy and dark.

Then Lysander’s eyes found the Sage’s masked face, his expression shifting into something approaching hatred.

"You..."

His voice emerged quiet but carrying venom underneath.

"I don’t understand you at all."

He took a step forward, his hands clenching.

"You were there that night, weren’t you?"

Another step, his breathing becoming audible.

"You knew from the start what would happen, didn’t you?"

His voice rose, building toward something that approached rage.

"You didn’t prevent any of that! You didn’t interfere even though you had the power to change everything!"

The accusation hung between them, heavy with years of suppressed fury.

"And now, years later, you stand here asking me to save his grandson?!"

His hands shook, his entire body trembling with emotion he couldn’t quite name.

"Why?!"

The question tore from his throat.

"Why are you doing all of this?! What could possibly justify watching that family burn and then working to protect the last ember?!"

The Sage remained perfectly still throughout Lysander’s building rage, his masked face showing nothing.

He didn’t confirm anything, didn’t deny anything and didn’t acknowledge the accusations at all.

Then he turned his back, his robes shifting with the motion.

His whisper emerged, quiet but carrying across the space between them.

"I don’t need anyone to understand."

His head remained forward, facing away from Lysander completely.

"Everything that I do, every choice that I make, every action I take or refuse to take..."

He paused, his shoulders rising and falling with a breath.

"It is for the greater good."

Lysander’s whisper cut through the statement, carrying disbelief that bordered on disgust.

"Which common sense dictates that the death of the strongest human being serves the greater good?!"

The question sat heavy and unanswerable between them.

The Sage’s entire body went rigid, his hands clenching at his sides.

Then he spun around, his movement so sharp it made his robes snap.

His voice exploded across the room, carrying force that made the walls shake.

"THAT IS THE THING, LYSANDER!"

The shout tore through the space like thunder.

"DO YOU TRULY THINK MY CHOICE MATTERS IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF EVERYTHING?!"

His hands spread wide, the gesture encompassing everything and nothing.

"IN THE GAME OF CHESS, THE PLAYERS DECIDE WHICH PIECE TO SACRIFICE!"

His voice became harder, each word hitting like a physical blow.

"AND THE GOAL OF EVERY SINGLE PLAYER ISN’T TO KEEP THE PIECES ALIVE!"

He took a step forward, his presence becoming overwhelming.

"IT IS TO MAKE SURE THAT WHEN THE GAME IS FINALLY OVER, WHEN THE LAST MOVE HAS BEEN PLAYED AND THE BOARD GOES STILL..."

His masked face came closer, stopping just short of Lysander’s personal space.

"THEIR SIDE WINS!"

His hand shot out, finger pointing directly at Lysander’s chest.

"AND IF SACRIFICING THE QUEEN MAKES IT SO THAT THE GAME WOULD BE WON..."

His voice became harder, carrying conviction that made the ground shake.

"THEN EVERY SINGLE DAMN PLAYER WOULD CHOOSE TO DO IT!"

The declaration rang across the room like a bell, echoing off walls and ceiling.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

His finger pressed harder, his entire frame radiating power.

"THE PIECES DON’T GET TO QUESTION THE PLAYER’S DECISIONS! THEY DON’T GET TO ASK WHY THEY’RE BEING MOVED OR SACRIFICED OR SAVED!"

His voice cracked slightly, something bleeding through the rage.

"BECAUSE THE PLAYER SEES THE ENTIRE BOARD! THE PLAYER KNOWS WHAT’S COMING! THE PLAYER UNDERSTANDS THAT SOMETIMES THE ONLY WAY TO WIN IS TO LET SOMETHING PRECIOUS DIE!"

Silence crashed down like someone had cut all sound from the world.

Lysander stood perfectly still, his face showing emotions too complex to name.

The Sage’s hand fell to his side, his breathing heavy despite his attempts at control.

Then his voice emerged again, quieter but no less absolute.

"I am not asking you to understand my choices."

His masked face tracked across Lysander’s features.

"I am not asking you to forgive what happened seventeen years ago."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"I am simply telling you what needs to happen next if you want him to survive."

His hand rose again, this time settling on Lysander’s shoulder.

"Now listen to me carefully–"