The central spire of Fortress Castell-8 did not collapse when its Regent was uninstalled. Instead, the white marble walls absorbed the lingering golden light of Itachi's promotion, recalibrating their frequency to match his newly acquired Queen-Rank Strategic Core Authority.
The five-hundred-foot cathedral was no longer a stronghold of the Upper Board. It was an operational command post.
Itachi stood on the elevated dais, his long, gold-embroidered velvet mantle resting motionless around his frame. Floating before him was a massive, three-dimensional tactical projection of the Multiversal Board.
[Current Status: Promoted Unit — Queen-Rank Authority]
[Territorial Command: Sector 3 (100%) | Sector 2 (100%)]
[Active Core: Sovereign Key of Sector 2]
[Targeting Objective: Sector 1 — The Central Capital]
The bronze scout drone hovered beside the floating holographic map, its optical lens clicking continuously as thousands of high-level data streams flooded into its receiver.
"Master Itachi..." the drone crackled, its voice laced with equal parts awe and nervous panic. "The territorial shift is complete. The planetary ley-lines across all two thousand square miles of Sector 2 have aligned with your scepter. But... the High Board's reaction in Sector 1 isn't what we predicted."
Itachi didn't turn his head. His golden eyes remained fixed on the glowing boundary line separating Sector 2 from Sector 1—a massive, crimson wall of compressed spatial distortion known as the Grand Iron File.
"They did not launch an immediate counter-offensive," Itachi deadpanned. It was not a question.
"No!" the drone replied, zooming in on the crimson wall. "They've gone completely dark! Sector 1 has pulled back all its forward scouts, severed the inter-sector mag-lev transit lines, and activated a Full Board Lockout. They aren't trying to reclaim Sector 2... they're turtling!"
"A classic passive defense," Itachi observed, his deep voice resonant in the quiet, expansive hall. "When an opponent suffers a sudden material and positional loss, the primitive instinct is to fortify the King's remaining squares and wait for a mistake."
"Is that bad for us?"
"For a linear attacker, yes," Itachi explained, raising his obsidian-and-gold scepter. The tip of the scepter traced a sharp, gold arc through the air, highlighting four glowing nodes along the crimson border of Sector 1. "A turtle position creates a closed board. It reduces open files, nullifies long-range vector attacks, and turns every forward step into a grueling grind through heavy fortification."
"Then how do we breach a closed board?" the drone asked.
"You don't breach it with raw force," Itachi said softly. "You squeeze it."
He tapped the base of his scepter against the obsidian floor.
THOOM.
A golden pulse wave rippled out from the dais, washing across the holographic map. The two thousand square miles of Sector 2 beneath their feet responded instantly, its silver soil and planetary mana conduits shifting their output from defensive containment to high-density resource aggregation.
[Skill Activated: Domain Consolidation (Tempo Advantage)]
[Resource Conversion: Sector 2 Core Mana -> Strategic Energy Reserve]
[Generating Vector: Prophylactic Control]
In grandmaster chess, when the opponent locks the position, the winning strategy is Prophylaxis—preventing every possible counter-play while systematically expanding spatial control until the opponent runs out of legal moves.
"Look at their pawn structure," Itachi instructed, pointing the scepter at the western flank of Sector 1.
A series of dark, towering icons materialized along the border—The Iron Bastions, four automated fortress complexes manned by high-tier Rook-Brigadiers (Level 58).
"They believe those four bastions protect their flank," Itachi deadpanned. "In reality, those bastions are overcrowding their own back rank. They have zero operational depth behind those walls. If one fall falls, the entire western array collapses in a chain reaction."
"Master Itachi!" the drone chimed, its optical lens widening. "An encrypted, high-frequency spatial signal just breached the outer perimeter of Castell-8! It's bypassing the planetary filters!"
The holographic map flickered, dissolving into a tall, dark silhouette framed by a deep red aura. The figure wore a crown forged from jagged black iron, its face hidden behind a visor of solid, light-absorbing crystal.
It was the projection of Grand Regent Malakor, the supreme ruler of Sector 1 and first deputy to the Multiversal Board.
"Anomaly," Malakor's voice boomed through the hall, heavy with the weight of an entity that had governed planetary systems for millennia. "You wear the mantle of a Queen, yet your origin is recorded as dirt. You think taking two sectors gives you parity with the High Board?"
Itachi didn't flinch. He stood tall, his gold-embroidered mantle draping over his shoulders, his golden eyes meeting the cold crystal visor without a trace of emotion.
"Parity is an illusion created by equal piece counts," Itachi replied, his voice calm and icy. "You have more material. I have better coordination. The game was decided the moment you allowed my pawn to cross the eighth rank."
Malakor let out a low, grinding chuckle that made the white quartz floorboards vibrate. "Arrogant worm. Sector 1 is not a simple border pass. The Grand Iron File is backed by four thousand spatial batteries and the personal domain of the Supreme King. You will starve outside our walls."
"A player who waits to starve," Itachi noted deadpanned, "has already conceded the initiative."
"Then make your move, Queen-Pawn," Malakor hissed, his red projection flaring brightly. "Step onto the Grand Iron File and let the planetary batteries turn your new mantle into ash!"
The projection dissolved into a shower of static sparks, leaving the cathedral quiet once more.
Itachi looked down at the scepter in his hand, his golden eyes reflecting the glowing map of Sector 1.
"He wants me to attack the center," Itachi said softly.
"Are we going to?" the drone asked, hovering closer.
"No," Itachi deadpanned, a subtle, cold glint flaring in his eyes. "When the center is locked, you strike on the wing."
He turned his back to the map, stepping off the dais toward the cathedral doors as his mantle flowed behind him like a golden river.
"Prepare the d-file," Itachi commanded. "We are opening a second front."