"I actually came here today to play Legendary Kill or War of the Gods, but Harper's holed up in the lab, and the other teaching assistants are all busy," Mason said, taking a big swig of beer as he chatted with Ron. "So it's just us two—we figured we'd come have a drink instead."
"I think War of the Gods is really fun, even more so than Legendary Kill," Edith added with a smile.
"Huh? I've got to disagree with that," Mason raised an eyebrow. "The mechanics and depth of Legendary Kill are way more advanced. It has way more room for refinement. There's no real comparison."
Edith didn't argue. Her personality wasn't one for conflict—she just smiled softly and said, "Mm, you've got a point too."
"Not sure we'll be able to play Legendary Kill today," Ron looked around the room. There were five people, but Yuna was busy tending the tavern, so that left only four. "But War of the Gods works perfectly with four."
"Huh? Just the three of us… Oh, is Sister Sylvie playing too?"
Mason hadn't considered her. After all, Sylvie was a sixth-tier mage, on the same level as his own mentor, Professor Hicks. The idea of playing cards with her hadn't even crossed his mind.
Sylvie understood immediately what Ron meant. She raised her head to glance at Mason and Edith, then looked at Ron, her tone respectful:
"If it's your command, Your Highness Ron, then of course."
"Alright, let's go." Ron stood up with his glass of wine and gestured toward the stairs. "Yuna, bring up some fruit, pick the fresh ones."
The group followed Ron to the second floor, to a board game room.
They all sat around a mahjong table—or rather, a War of the Gods table.
Ron had just finished making a new batch of mahjong sets using Chameleon Radish leaves, placing several of them in the game room.
Edith and Mason had played before and were already familiar with the rules.
But for Sylvie, this was her first time.
Though she'd heard rumors from the chapel that the other nuns had been playing some strange new game invented by His Highness Ron, she hadn't paid it much attention—let alone thought of playing it herself.
So before they began, the three had to spend some time teaching Sylvie how to play.
It ended up being a tier 2, a tier 3, and a tier 4 mage all instructing a tier 6 nun on how to play mahjong.
The irony wasn't lost on Ron—he nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity.
Yuna soon brought in some fruit, then obediently went back downstairs. She always behaved herself when there were guests around—no funny business.
And so, War of the Gods officially began.
Because everyone worshipped different deities, the equivalent of the "wildcard" or "Joker" tile—known as the Fortune card—varied from player to player.
For Ron and Sylvie, who both worshipped the Goddess of Harvest — Hervesta, their wildcard tile was the Sheaf of Grain.
For Edith, a follower of the God of Life, her wildcard was the Ancient Tree.
And for Mason, who worshipped the Giant Craftsman God, his Fortune tile was the Giant Hammer.
The first round began.
Sylvie kept a calm expression, leaning back in her chair, clearly planning to just be the fourth player to fill out the table.
The game itself didn't matter to her. Since it was a request from Ron, she was happy to go along.
Fourth round ends.
By the fifth round, Sylvie began taking longer to think before discarding her tiles.
Sixth round.
Both her hands were now on the table. She no longer leaned back lazily in her chair.
She was sitting upright, alert.
After one full game, she ended up losing over 100 copper coins.
It wasn't much. They were only playing for fun, with a 1-copper base bet. A loss of 100 coins was nothing for someone like Sylvie.
But when round two started, Sylvie's demeanor changed.
She was now only half-sitting on the edge of her seat, back straight, posture perfect, eyes laser-focused on her hand.
The tool-player had transformed into a serious contender.
Ron watched the shift in her expression with a small smile.
...Was mahjong just naturally irresistible to women?
At the end of the second round, Sylvie had lost even more—about 150 copper coins.
So much for getting serious—it had just cost her 50 more.
But Ron noticed her eyes growing even more determined.
Between rounds, while rolling the dice to determine the next dealer, Sylvie quietly took off her white nun's veil, untied her long hair, combed it out neatly, re-braided it, and re-wrapped the veil.
If she had written "Fight On!" or "For Victory!" in red ink across the top, it wouldn't have looked out of place at all.
Round three began.
By now, Sylvie had absorbed a lot from watching the others: in mahjong, it wasn't just about what you wanted in your own hand—you also needed to pay attention to what others played.
For example, if the player after you had just discarded a "Two Coin" tile, then playing a One, Two, or Three Coin would probably be safe—they wouldn't want it.
This kind of strategy—reading the table and calculating risk—was something Sylvie had started to pick up.
"This game His Highness Ron invented… it's not simple…" Sylvie thought to herself.
Now, she fully let go of her earlier dismissive attitude and committed herself completely to the art of mahjong.
Ron watched her closely: focused eyes, hands guarding her tiles carefully… he couldn't help but find this serious, slightly competitive version of Sylvie… weirdly cute.
Until now, Sylvie had always carried herself as the calm, disciplined, traditional nun—a model of elegance and order.
But beneath that composed exterior, she had a competitive streak, especially when it came to games.
At the end of round three, Sylvie only lost 60 copper.
A definite improvement, but still a loss.
And even a small loss could leave a bitter taste.
But by this time, they'd played dozens of hands, and it was getting quite late.
No matter how much Sylvie didn't want to stop, they had to end the session.
For the sake of maintaining her image, she masked her disappointment behind a calm smile, politely said goodbye to the guests, and returned to her room on the third floor.
Ron walked Mason and Edith downstairs.
As they were leaving, Edith turned and said,
"Your Highness Ron, a few days from now, an elven high priest may come to visit. I wanted to give you a heads-up."
"Oh? What for?" Ron asked curiously.
"It's about the Scalevine you sold us at the flower shop. The high priest took them back to distribute among our warriors. A few days ago, one of our patrols encountered beastkin raiders fleeing toward the northwest edge of the Forest of Freyst."
"In the resulting skirmish, they discovered that Scalevine's properties were extremely effective."
"So the clan is considering a large-scale purchase of Scalevine. I hope you'll be prepared, Your Highness."
Ron raised an eyebrow—this was a pleasant surprise.
His main quest required the sale of 5,000 Scalevine plants, and he had already sold over 3,000.
But with sales slowing down, he'd figured he wouldn't complete the quest until spring.
Now the elves were walking right into his trap?
"No problem at all. I'll be looking forward to the priest's visit."
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Hi everyone 👋
Translator note here.
Due to real-life and time constraints, updates will be reduced from 5 chapters to 2 chapters, and they may not be daily. Please don't be surprised if there isn't a release every day, but I'll do my best to keep updates as consistent as possible.
Thanks for your understanding and continued support 🙏✨
