<h4>Chapter 470: Wanda’s New Tactic</h4>


    <strong><i>[Meredith].</i></strong>


    Dennis’s announcement for thest game was followed up by the warriorsing to clear the training grounds.


    Next, ck tiles were arranged in a seven-by-seven diamond that shimmered beneath thete sunlight, each tile carved with faint runes.


    From above, the board formed an obsidian star—beautiful, ominous, and strangely alive.


    We gathered around the table.


    Dennis pped his hands once. "Alright. The final game is Obsidian Path. It requires strategy, intuition, and nerve. Perfect for ending the day."


    Everyone seemed eager.


    Then, Dennis tapped the board with two fingers.


    "The objective is to reach the centre tile. On your turn, you may move your token one square or ce a trap to block someone’s route."


    Next, he lifted a small ck tile edged with sharp silver markings. "Step on a trap, and you lose a turn."


    Dennis continued, "Last thing... traps stay where they are. Once ced, they are permanent." Then he looked between us all. "Everyone understands?"


    We nodded.


    Wanda stood across from me. Her face was now arranged into a pleasant, unreadable calm.


    She even smiled at me. And that alone set my instincts on edge.


    Draven stood slightly behind my right shoulder, his hands loosely folded. I felt the warmth of his presence like a shield pressed to my spine.


    Dennis announced that we pair up. But before I could turn to Draven, he let me know that I was not allowed to y against Draven this time, so Wanda happily turned to me.


    I bet she had been waiting for this opportunity, more so when she learned that we would yst.


    "Remember," Dennis said, "this game is about reading each other. Predicting each other. Outsmarting each other."


    Then his grin flicked toward Wanda and me. "So, I’m expecting fireworks."


    Wanda’s smile remained perfectly serene. Mine didn’t change either.


    ---


    Minutester, Wanda and I finally stepped onto the board.


    Our wolf tokens were ced at opposite ends—hers was obsidian ck, while mine was silver with a faint lc sheen.


    Then Dennis raised a wooden baton. "Begin."


    Wanda moved first, tapping a central tile. I studied her posture, her eyes, her breath, but she gave away nothing.


    Herposure was impable—elegant, steadfast, like a woman raised in discipline and politics.


    So, I ced my first trap tile quietly, shaping the board in the opposite direction of hers. I wasn’t trying to fight her yet. I was rearranging the field.


    Jeffery murmured thoughtfully from the sidelines, clearly impressed. While Oscar, who rarelyplimented anyone, nodded once. "Interesting start."


    Wanda’s eyes flicked to him with polite acknowledgement before returning to me, still smiling calmly.


    But when she ced her next tile, her wrist stiffened for half a second—a tiny crack in the mask. She was ying aggressively yet trying to appear rxed.


    I adjusted my path ordingly.


    Wanda subtly guided her traps toward the centre, hemming me in. That was a sophisticated tactic, one that required patience and foresight.


    Dennis murmured approvingly. "Someone’s confident."


    Wanda didn’t react. She simply ced her next piece, graceful as poured silk.


    I could respect that. But I wasn’t going to lose.


    I moved my token diagonally, diverting towards the outer arc—a feint. One that forced her next move into a predictable corner.


    I could almost feel Oscar’s attention sharpening. He was analyzing me now, not the board.


    Next, Wanda ced a trap to block what she thought was my intended path. That was a smart move, but incorrect.


    I had already rerouted myself two turns earlier. And she hadn’t noticed. But by the time she realized the mistake, it was already toote.


    Her own trap grid boxed her in, gently, subtly, but undeniably restricting her wolf token’s next legal move. Hershes lowered for a single blink.


    I couldn’t sense any atom of panic or anger or frustration from her aside from the measured breath she released.


    But the tightening of her fingers around herst tile told me everything.


    Dennis stepped forward. "Final moves now," he announced.


    Wanda ced her tile with exquisite poise, but it was a dead y—just a formality.


    I stepped my token onto the centre diamond—the winning star, with quiet certainty.


    "And the winner is," Dennis dered. "Luna Meredith."


    Almost immediately, apuse erupted.


    Oscar actually smiled faintly, but it was real. "That was... skillful."


    Jeffery nodded once with a soldier’s respect.


    Draven’s pride rolled down the bond like warm thunder, his hand brushing my lower back.


    But contrary to my expectation of Wanda, she did not scowl. Her facial expression did not falter, not even a blink was seen.


    Instead, she smiled—a slow, elegant, perfectlyposed smile. And she pped.


    "Beautifully yed, Luna Meredith," she said gently. "Your strategy was impressive."


    For a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe because her voice carried no malice. There was no strain or hint of jealousy.


    It was diplomacy at its finest, the kind of poise only someone raised in power could wield.


    But in the split second before she lowered her eyes, I caught a sharpness—something calcted, flickering beneath the calm.


    I dipped my head politely. "Thank you, Miss Fellowes."


    But inside, my instincts whispered. "<i>This isn’t peace.</i>" And that unnerved me more than all her past hostilitybined.


    ---


    Thete afternoon sun softened into gold as we all left the training grounds. And the excitement ofpetition gradually settled into a quieter, contented energy among the group.


    Levi and Oscar walked ahead, discussing something about the old sparring pits near the northern woods. Vivian trailed lightly beside them, herughter gentle.


    Jeffery stayed near Draven, speaking in low, clipped tones about patrol rotations.


    And Dennis, as usual, was trying to convince everyone he hadn’t actually been the worst at knife-throwing.


    We moved together through the Oatrun estate grounds, following the stone path that wound past a few open fields, tall pines, and the long shadow of the training hall. It felt calm, almost pleasant.


    But I didn’t miss how Wanda kept a graceful, measured distance from me.


    Unlike other times, she didn’t approach me or send a re. Instead, she acted perfectly normal. Polished. Controlled, but too controlled.


    <i>"This has to be a new tactic,</i>" I thought quietly. And that made her more dangerous.