Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 29 - Chapter SS

Bonus Story: Who Gets the Macallan?

The Kingdom of Rhoadseria was one of the three nations on the eastern region of the western continent. In a certain room within a mansion in its capital, Pireas, two individuals were locked in a tense struggle. Regardless, it wasn’t as though they were engaged in a life-and-death battle with swords or blades. Their clash unfolded on a Go board, but that didn’t mean it was some casual game.

A light clank echoed through the room after the clattering of stones being placed on a surface. It was the sound of a Go stone striking the wooden board, which was rich in elegance and deeply pleasing to the ear. Yet, to appreciate such elegance, one needed to have the composure of mind. Unfortunately, only a few people could afford such composure.

“Phew... This is a tough one,” said Ryoma Mikoshiba as he scratched his head with his right hand.

That gesture was rare and likely a sign that Ryoma was under psychological pressure. Before his gaze sat an old Go board that was clearly a distinguished piece of heritage. The board itself was a legged Go board made of kaya wood, its sides lacquered and decorated with mother-of-pearl inlay. While it may not have reached the status of a national treasure, it wouldn’t have been strange for it to be designated an important cultural property. Upon that board, black and white stones painted a vivid scene.

Seated on the opposite side of the Go board was Koichiro Mikoshiba, wearing a serene and satisfied smile as if enjoying his grandson’s struggle. The game on the board had likely entered its endgame. Roughly three-fifths of the board had already been filled with black and white stones. To the untrained eye, it would have been difficult to determine which side held the advantage. But judging from Koichiro’s smile, the outcome seemed to be all but decided.

“Well? Care to concede with some dignity?”

Koichiro beamed from ear to ear upon hearing those words. He had just claimed victory in a long-awaited Go match with his grandson, and his face practically radiated triumph. Apparently, Koichiro Mikoshiba was not the kind of man to let his beloved grandson win out of sentiment. Confident in his victory, he reached for the tobacco tray beside him. He packed his beloved custom-made kiseru pipe with shredded tobacco, clamped the mouthpiece between his lips, and lit it with a spark from his right index finger.

He had cast verbal thaumaturgy without incantation.

Even among skilled verbal thaumaturgy users, those capable of activating a spell silently were rare. But for someone of Koichiro’s caliber, it seemed effortless. After Koichiro drew in the tobacco smoke and savored it in his mouth, he exhaled slowly, as if to flaunt his privilege as the victor. It was nothing short of the sweet wine of triumph. Perhaps, in this case, it was the purple smoke of victory.

A sharp tsk escaped from Ryoma’s lips in response to his grandfather’s smug display. “Damn old man... That’s just childish.”

In every sense, it echoed the howl of a sore loser. Still, it was hard not to sympathize with Ryoma’s frustration.

There’s no way I can beat grandpa when we’re evenly matched, Ryoma mused.

He would rather not admit that truth, yet he couldn’t possibly deny it. After all, Koichiro Mikoshiba’s skill in Go was easily among the highest in Japan’s amateur circles. One could describe him as an amateur who stood on the very threshold of the professional level. At the Go salons Koichiro frequented, events known as shidogo—instructional games with professional players—were occasionally held. Normally, amateurs would receive a handicap in the form of okigo when facing a pro. That was only natural, given the overwhelming difference in ability between professionals and amateurs.

Although Koichiro was technically an amateur, he was a formidable player who would boldly challenge professionals to even games without a handicap. Such behavior would normally be considered reckless, even foolish, and a clear sign of someone overestimating their abilities.

It was unthinkable that a casual player, whose involvement with the game was more leisurely than devoted, could ever stand on equal footing with a professional who had dedicated their life to it. In fact, one could consider it disrespectful to challenge a professional to a fair game. But as with all things, there were exceptions.

Koichiro Mikoshiba was one of those rare exceptions in the current game of Go. It had been nothing short of an unfair match for Ryoma, even if he was no novice in the game.

Ever since childhood, Ryoma had been taught all the major board games—Go, shogi, and chess—by his grandfather Koichiro. So it would be fair to say he possessed a decent skill level. He could have easily aimed for a spot on the regular roster if his high school had a Go or shogi club. But even so, the difference in level between him and Koichiro was undeniable. No one understood that reality better than Ryoma. In fact, Koichiro was well aware of it too. That was precisely why Koichiro would always allow Ryoma to take black to have the first-move advantage whenever they played Go. In addition to that, their previous matches had always begun as handicap games, with Ryoma placing two or three stones on the board beforehand.

And yet, it was an even game this time or a serious match without any handicap. Thanks to the result of the nigiri—deciding who plays first by grabbing a handful of black stones and guessing the amount correctly—Ryoma had ended up with the black stones, giving him an advantage. But that was purely a matter of chance.

This meant that Koichiro had approached this match with full seriousness. While actual competition demanded a ruthless mindset, it was still perfectly understandable for Ryoma to feel his grandfather was being immature.

Damn it... Zack really went and gave me a troublesome gift.

The image of Zack Mystel also flashed through Ryoma’s mind. It had all started when Zack acquired this Go board and set of stones, clearly heirloom-quality, and brought them back. From his perspective, Ryoma’s complaints would have seemed completely unfair.

All he had done was present a beautiful set of handcrafted items, likely brought from the hidden world of Rearth, as a gift to the young conqueror. Upon seeing the gifted Go board, it was hardly reasonable to expect that Koichiro would challenge Ryoma to a match.

And now that bottle of whiskey is going to end up in the hands of that damn old man.

Koichiro had pulled out all the stops in their match simply because the prize at stake was Ryoma’s prized bottle of Macallan from 1946. Of course, Ryoma had never intended to offer the Macallan as part of the wager. Even in Japan, it was an extraordinarily rare whiskey that was almost impossible to obtain.

This wasn’t even Rearth; it was another world entirely. One could only describe it as a miracle that he had even encountered it once.

Honestly, it’s not a bottle I ever wanted to share with anyone.

The alcohol did not taste bad, and it was quite the opposite. Because it tasted so excellent, a true lover of fine spirits would want to keep it all to themselves.

As such, Ryoma had reluctantly offered up the precious bottle of whiskey when he asked Koichiro for a particular favor the other day. Even if they were family, Ryoma believed that when asking someone to take on an unreasonable request, it was only proper to show gratitude and to demonstrate one’s seriousness.

Still, maybe that decision was a mistake.

Ryoma never anticipated that Koichiro, who had developed a taste for it, would challenge him to a game of Go with the Macallan on the line.

But a match was a match.

And the loser had no right to protest.

“Laura... Bring it here.”

“Yes, my lord.”

At his command, Laura—quietly waiting behind him—brought the bottle of Macallan he had asked her to prepare in advance. Ryoma took the bottle from her and set it in front of Koichiro.

“Take it, you damn thief...”

It was, in every sense, a declaration of defeat. Unlike Ryoma’s bitter, defeated expression, Koichiro accepted the bottle with a beaming smile.

He slowly removed the cap, then deliberately calmly said, “Well then, I think I’ll have a taste right away. Sara, my dear, would you mind preparing four glasses? Could you also find something suitable to nibble on?”

Koichiro then turned to his stunned grandson and gave him a playful wink. That night, the lights in the room stayed on well past midnight.