WeTried Translations

 

Translator: [IncomeElastic]

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

 


 

◈ I Became a Blacksmith the Rankers Are Obsessed With ◈

 

Chapter 022

──────

Taming the Noble Lady(?)

 


 

* * *

 

I don't know how chess developed in this world,

 

but there's an old story that's been floating around chess communities forever.

 

'If humanity started its knowledge of chess over again from zero, would it converge back onto the same theory we have now?'

 

The answer was, more or less, yes.

 

Since the way each piece moves is fixed, and the size of the board is fixed, the optimization humanity eventually arrives at converges to something similar in the end.

 

And decisively, humanity would eventually develop AI anyway.

 

This other world seemed to be the same.

 

Isabella's opening move wasn't a pawn, but a knight.

 

- Clack.

 

Chess generally has all kinds of opening concepts,

 

but the most common one is pushing a pawn to claim the center.

 

Moving the knight first means choosing to watch and wait instead of claiming the center early.

 

And it also means positioning the bishop like a sniper in the meantime, aiming to take the center slowly.

 

People who play this move are usually one of two types.

 

Either they want to stay flexible and react to my response,

 

or.

 

'Or they're just gay.'

 

Hypermodernism.

 

And me,

 

I really love devouring this kind of defensive style.

 

The time limit was 15 minutes, a rapid-style game.

 

Chess has different game types: rapid and blitz.

 

Rapid runs 15 to 30 minutes per game, a format with relatively enough time to calculate.

 

Blitz, on the other hand, can run as short as one minute or up to five, moves counted down to the second.

 

For reference, my rapid rating is 2500.

 

My blitz rating is 3200.

 

That's a pretty big gap, and there's a reason for it.

 

Blitz leaves less room for AI to intervene.

 

Even if some tin-can computer derives the optimal move, it still takes time to see it, relay it, and actually move the piece.

 

Blitz doesn't give you that kind of time. Games are decided down to fractions of a second.

 

It's a domain where human faces human, which is why it feels like a fair fight there.

 

"It's your turn."

 

Seeing me staring blankly off into the empty air to my right, Isabella called out to me.

 

Come on, lady. You think I don't know that?

 

"I was thinking it over."

 

"On your first move?"

 

This woman's a habitual offender when it comes to bad manners. Who starts sabotaging their opponent from the very first move?

 

I had been thinking, actually.

 

Though not, to be precise, about what my first move should be.

 

More about how I was going to devour her.

 

- Tock.

 

I began with a textbook response.

 

The game moved forward.

 

- Tock.

 

- Tock.

 

- ...Tock.

 

- Tock.

 

- ......Tock, tock.

 

I answered every single move within 0.1 seconds of Isabella making hers.

 

The instant her hand left the piece, mine was already moving.

 

That's my style.

 

Even just this puts pressure on the opponent.

 

"......."

 

The pace of the pieces kept picking up,

 

but Isabella gradually began to falter.

 

That was as far as her prepared opening went; from here on, it was the middlegame.

 

It was an opening I'd basically never seen before, but it wasn't nonsensical, so I responded appropriately.

 

After agonizing over it, Isabella made another move,

 

- Tock.

 

and I didn't hesitate for even a moment.

 

The real trick here is to never actually look at the board.

 

I just turn my head, stare into the empty air to my right, and draw the board out in my head.

 

Then the moment I glance over and see Isabella's move, I respond on pure intuition.

 

I've basically already worked out what I'm going to play regardless.

 

- .........Tock.

 

- Tock.

 

- ....................Tock.

 

- Tock.

 

When I'd glanced over the board earlier, I'd figured she was a total beginner, but she wasn't quite that bad.

 

She seemed like a reasonably competent intermediate player.

 

Her style, though, was pretty funny.

 

Orthodox and defensive, I suppose you'd call it.

 

Exactly the kind of chess you'd expect a noble young lady to play.

 

This is going to be fun to pick apart and devour.

 

My specialty is dragging an opponent all the way down to rock bottom.

 

"......?"

 

I play messy, unclear moves that might not be objectively sound, just to torment my opponent.

 

The murkier I make the position, the more useless her preparation becomes.

 

Maybe this was the first time, as a noble young lady, she'd ever run into chess like this.

 

I had my head turned away, so I couldn't see her face,

 

but the time she spent thinking doubled and doubled again.

 

- ...............................Tock.

 

- Tock.

 

After repeating that cycle a few times,

 

my remaining time was 14 minutes 28 seconds.

 

Isabella's remaining time had dropped to... 2 minutes 17 seconds.

 

The balance of advantage looked to be roughly 7 to 3 by now.

 

She's diligent, but way too defensive.

 

Like poking a block of wood, I guess, no real feeling of getting a rise out of her.

 

She'd come at me a few times early on, but after getting thoroughly beaten down, she must have sensed something was off, because after that she only ran.

 

So much for playing dirty tricks on her, she just flat-out ran, geez.

 

'Guess I'll wrap this up soon.'

 

Just as I was thinking that.

 

- Tok-tok.

 

Isabella finally made her move after a long think, and I was just about to answer it.

 

[Um... big brother?]

 

What.

 

Yuna suddenly stopped me.

 

[Look, look at this.]

 

Yuna pulled up a camera window off to one side of my vision.

 

"......?"

 

Wait a second.

 

In the feed Yuna was showing me, Isabella had a chess piece gripped in her hand.

 

But.

 

'Is she... crying right now?'

 

Tears weren't just welling up, they were streaming right down her cheeks.

 

The hand holding the piece was trembling.

 

Wait, why... tears...?

 

This is honestly baffling.

 

She was crying with her lips pressed tightly shut.

 

There are a few things I'm weak to, and tears are one of them.

 

Especially tears from someone who'd been giving it their honest, sincere best.

 

'Ah....'

 

Okay, let's think about this differently.

 

Say some random elementary schooler shows up out of nowhere, and I get completely wrecked by them at a rhythm game.

 

I'm not joking, I might cry too.

 

Think how humiliating that'd be, getting cleaned out while holding white.

 

I'm not so heartless a person that I can't spare her that much....

 

Throwing the game outright felt like too much,

 

so let's give her a chance. If she catches this mistake, she wins. If not,

 

'Then you just lose.'

 

In the end I played a move that looked ambiguous.

 

Fine at a glance, garbage the moment you actually looked closely.

 

Specifically, two moves later my rook would be there for the taking, free.

 

If Isabella stayed calm, she'd catch it....

 

"... Sniffle."

 

Isabella sniffled quietly, then studied the board.

 

Ugh.

 

With her sniffling as background noise, I gave her a bit more time.

 

And then.

 

"!"

 

Looked like Isabella had found it.

 

Good job. Well done.

 

As a few more moves went by, I quietly slipped her another rook.

 

And a bishop, too.

 

Funny way to put it, I know,

 

but I think I'd finally succeeded in putting myself at a disadvantage.

 

The moment the math made Isabella's advantage clear, her shoulders loosened a little.

 

Her sniffling gradually faded too.

 

What a transparent person.

 

Ugh, all the fun drained right out of it.

 

It's like being in a boxing match and your opponent suddenly bursts into tears.

 

Honestly, all I could do was laugh.

 

"I lose."

 

I turned my body away from the empty air I'd been staring at and bowed my head.

 

Remaining time: 14 minutes 1 second versus 23 seconds.

 

Of course, the result was my defeat.

 

"Huh? Yeah... yeah."

 

Isabella nodded, looking dazed.

 

The face of someone who couldn't quite believe she'd won.

 

I offered a respectful two-handed handshake, then rose from my seat.

 

Crying women are the most exhausting thing to me.

 

I didn't want to say anything at all, honestly, it just drains me.

 

Still, it seemed better to say something out of courtesy.

 

"That's an interesting opening. I've never seen it before."

 

Looked like a Réti opening, bent to her own taste.

 

But right at that moment.

 

- Whip!

 

Isabella suddenly whipped her head around, eyes sparkling.

 

"That's right! How did you know?"

 

"......?"

 

"I made that opening myself. I spent a whole year working on it, seriously."

 

Ah, so she made it herself.

 

Guess this makes it the "Isabella System" or whatever.

 

That changes my evaluation a bit.

 

If she'd actually researched and built it herself, that was worth revising my opinion upward for.

 

Guess she'd done some research trying to beat Dolores.

 

"Leaving the center open and indirectly restraining it with my pieces instead..."

 

"Yeah, I could feel the philosophy behind it."

 

"Really? If it were Dolores, she'd have definitely cursed me out and called it pointless. She always says chess is all about the center."

 

"Yeah, it looks fine to me. Keep going. You've got this."

 

Pioneers always have it rough. It was the same back in our world.

 

Keep at it, Isabella.

 

Having soothed her with a little sweet talk,

 

not wanting to get any further tangled up with her, I began quietly inching away.

 

"I'll just be going now..."

 

"What was your name again? Which house are you from?"

 

Caught red-handed just as I was trying to leave.

 

"...Lionel. I don't have a house."

 

"Hm? A knight, then?"

 

"Not that either."

 

Explaining the relationship was awkward.

 

Dolores hadn't told me to say anything, or not to, so I'd better just keep my mouth shut.

 

"Ah, I see. So, is there anything about the opening I should fix?"

 

"I lost. What would I even have to say?"

 

"True. I did win, didn't I? Anything you're curious about?"

 

"......."

 

This woman is a little strange.

 

I quietly shut my mouth and tried to get back to my workout.

 

Her first impression had been sharp and imposing enough,

 

but she talks way too much.

 

As if she was used to not getting an answer, she just kept chattering away beside me.

 

"Whew..."

 

"So what you're saying is, rather than developing the bishop right away, it's better to wait and see how things go, that's it?"

 

"Yeah... so delaying it a bit would probably be good..."

 

"No wait, then... how about this instead?"

 

She kept talking to me the entire time I exercised.

 

And since she seemed genuinely sincere about it in her own way, I couldn't just brush her off completely.

 

Answering, thinking, and giving her real feedback all at once was pure agony.

 

"Haah..."

 

"Sorry for talking your ear off? By the way, why are you doing something this crude?"

 

She asked, pointing at my jump rope.

 

"Well... I have to exercise..."

 

"Watching you play chess and think things through, you seem like you'd be perfect for a mage."

 

"I just don't have any talent for magic."

 

After running through about three sets and collapsing on the floor, Isabella crouched down beside me and asked.

 

"Once I've polished up the opening a bit more, can I come back and ask you things? I'll bring my questions."

 

"I'm the weaker player. Why do you keep wanting to ask me?"

 

"Yeah, that's true. I did win, but, hmm..."

 

- Clap.

 

She clapped her hands and added.

 

"It's an information exchange. A chess information exchange. As you know, chess is basically mandatory for nobles, right? You'll need it eventually too, once you make your debut in society. Plus, I know magic. I'll teach you magic. How about that?"

 

"......."

 

First of all, I'm not a noble.

 

Second, it was tempting, I'll admit.

 

But sorry, I'm a blacksmith.

 

There's a reason I'm out here busting my ass exercising like this.

 

Magic really isn't for me.

 

"I just have no interest in magic. By the way, aren't you leaving?"

 

Seriously, just go already.

 

"I can't leave until Dolores comes back. She's hiding a glove from me, ah, that's not something you need to know about."

 

"......."

 

Maman, help me.

 

But sadly, Maman seemed to have used up a lot of time out gathering ore,

 

and so I had to sit through another two hours or so of her chattering.

 

Once the hard training was finally over,

 

I collapsed onto the floor, conserving even the energy it took to breathe.

 

"Good work. Are you done now?"

 

"......."

 

"By the way, you seem to be enjoying talking with me? Everyone else usually disappears pretty quick."

 

For a second, hearing just the first half nearly made me lose it, but hearing the rest made me feel a little bad for her.

 

This woman is strange. Genuinely strange.

 

For three straight hours, I ended up having to explain every single opening I use.

 

She's incredibly rude and exhausting, but there's no malice in it.

 

"If you're done, how about one more game..."

 

"......."

 

I honestly think I finally understood why Ruby ran off and vanished.

 

Just as I closed my eyes and was about to let out a sigh.

 

- Slam.

 

The parlor door burst open.

 

"...Isabel."

 

I flinched the instant I heard that voice.

 

Standing in the doorway was Dolores.

 

She looked like she'd just gotten back from being out, a sack of ore still in hand.

 

It was the lowest, coldest her voice had ever sounded to me.

 

I was genuinely startled.

 

"Elysia, it's been a while..."

 

"Dolores."

 

"...Why are you upset again, fine. Dolores."

 

Elysia is her given name, and Dolores is her family name.

 

Sounded like Dolores was telling her not to use her given name.

 

Why is she so upset, though.

 

Just as I sat up myself, reading the room.

 

"Lionel..."

 

She walked slowly over to me.

 

Then she pulled out a handkerchief and carefully wiped the sweat from my forehead.

 

Her eyes swept down over me, from head to toe.

 

My sweat-soaked shirt, my flushed face, the dumbbell and jump rope lying scattered beside me.

 

- Tap.

 

Dolores's hand went to my cheek.

 

"You worked hard, didn't you?"

 

- Squeeze, squeeze.

 

And she kneaded my cheek playfully.

 

Her eyes crinkled softly, her voice rising higher.

 

Thankfully, she didn't seem to be angry at me...

 

That was when it happened.

 

"Have you talked with Lionel a lot too?"

 

Isabella suddenly cut in from the side.

 

"He's super small but super smart. Which house is he from? I'm thinking of keeping in touch with him going forward. He's fun."

 

Every word of it dripping with obvious interest.

 

"......."

 

And Dolores's head.

 

- Creak...

 

Slowly turned toward Isabella.

 

The hand that had just been kneading my cheek dropped away.

 

"Get out."

 

"Wait, what, suddenly...? I still have something to say..."

 

"I said get out. I'll follow you out."

 

"...What is going on?"

 

Isabella eventually got up and left.

 

She glanced back over her shoulder as she walked to the door, but Dolores didn't even spare her a glance.

 

The door shut, and Dolores turned back to me.

 

And then.

 

- Tight...

 

She hugged me, gently but firmly.

 

It felt like there was more strength behind it than usual.

 

"I never told you this, did I. Lionel."

 

"Yes?"

 

She stroked my forehead and whispered.

 

"...You mustn't go off with strangers, okay?"

 

Leaving just that one line behind,

 

she headed off in the direction Isabella had gone.

 

* * *

 

Her mood had been good all day, but

 

'He's super small but super smart. Which house is he from? I'm thinking of keeping in touch with him going forward. He's fun.'

 

In a single instant, it had plummeted right off a cliff.

 

If this counts as a talent, then it's a talent.

 

Isabella.

 

She was one of Dolores's sworn sisters.

 

You could say Dolores was one of the few people who'd even bother keeping her company.

 

She used to come by occasionally to play chess, but ever since the board got wrecked a year ago, she hadn't come at all.

 

She hated losing more than anything, more than death itself, practically.

 

That's just the kind of personality she has.

 

I don't know why she chose to show up now, of all times.

 

But.

 

She'd set her sights on something she never should have.

 

- Creak.

 

She opened the door to the study where Isabella was.

 

Isabella was sitting on the sofa. Maybe because her personality was so sunny and carefree,

 

or maybe because she just had no tact, she looked remarkably unbothered.

 

Dolores shut the door and spoke, short and clipped.

 

"State your business. Briefly."

 

"...Give me the gloves. I'll buy them."

 

"........."

 

So that was her real purpose.

 

She'd read the message and never even replied, but I guess she must've been eaten up with envy on the inside?

 

"Those gloves. They're worth studying, they'd have real value..."

 

"Get out."

 

If what she wanted was the gloves, that made the situation even more troublesome.

 

The one who'd made the gloves in the first place was Lionel.

 

And yet Isabella was already showing interest in the boy, without even knowing that he was the one who'd made them.

 

If she ever found out that those gloves had come from Lionel's own hands on top of that.

 

'Get out of my house, right now.'

 

She couldn't even imagine how things would turn out.

 

She had no idea what exactly the two of them had talked about while she'd been out,

 

but that look in Isabella's eyes right now was exactly the same look she used to have back when she was hunting for a way to clear the Tower.

 

Focused, fascinated, fond, that's what that look meant.

 

"Fine. You're in a pretty bad mood today, huh?"

 

"...Yeah, I guess I am. I'd really like it if you left..."

 

Just when it seemed, unusually enough, like she might actually leave without a fuss.

 

"Then just tell me which house Lionel is from. Honestly, that's become more important to me than the gloves at this point."

 

Worse.

 

So much worse.

 

That was the worst thing she could have said.

 

If she found out he was a child Dolores was keeping, she'd be here every single day without fail.

 

But lying and claiming he belonged to some other house would make the cleanup afterward far too complicated.

 

The whole situation itself, right now,

 

was deeply troublesome. Deeply irritating.

 

As much as she wanted to just beat her senseless and toss her out of the mansion... Isabella had kept climbing the Tower steadily even after Dolores herself had stopped.

 

There was no guarantee she'd win that fight.

 

"He's really good at chess, did you know that? I heard he's close with Ruby, too."

 

"......."

 

"Watching him, he's incredibly sharp, brilliant even. So I've been thinking about teaching him magic. It'd be a partnership! I teach him magic, and he teaches me chess... no wait, I won, didn't I?"

 

Dolores's eyes went wider and wider.

 

This woman.

 

What is she even saying right now?

 

"Ah, right. Taking him on as a disciple would work too. Whichever house he's from is going to lose their minds, probably, but I've never taken a disciple before. Yeah! A disciple sounds good! He definitely looks qualified to be my very first one."

 

Isabella broke into a bright, sunny smile, the corners of her mouth curling up.

 

"Right, I'll be his magic teacher. He'll be my chess teacher..."

 

"That child is...!"

 

Teacher.

 

That word alone, in the end, was something she absolutely could not stand to hear.

 

It felt like something precious was being torn away from her,

 

and she snapped, raising her voice.

 

"He's my child."

 

She had no choice but to tell the truth.

 


 

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