Yan Beihan's face was deathly pale. He struggled to gather his Divine Sense, picked up a chess piece between two fingers, concentrated his Spear Formation, and resolutely placed it with a snap.
It landed on the chessboard.
The piece didn't move at all once it fell.
He immediately withdrew his fingers and prepared for the next move.
Duan Xiyang, with a sullen face, looked at the chessboard, made a move with a quick snap, without a second thought, moving at lightning speed.
Yan Beihan reached out again, Sword Formation.
The aura of sharp metal, fierce and cutting, came through.
After fifty consecutive moves, the game concluded.
Duan Xiyang's black pieces had lost.
He stared at the chessboard, his face darkened even more.
Damn it, I actually lost!
Then he looked up: "Any insights?"
"After winning, it feels great! A sense of elevation!" Yan Beihan responded without hesitation.
