In the Noble Tavern, flickering candlelight cast restless shadows over a lavish chessboard. The neatly arranged pieces seemed to dance in the glow. Behind the board, Lysander lounged in a recliner, his embroidered silk robe hanging loosely over his shoulders. Beneath it, his sheer shirt carried the faint scent of the latest cologne. His face was shrouded in darkness, but no shadow could obscure the sharp glint of his cunning, captivating eyes.
Across from him sat three men. Morr, the trembling moneylender, a smooth talker who never let a "client" leave with a single coin to their name. Carlo, the jittery gambler and master of sleight-of-hand who could strip an opponent with a few subtle tricks. And Sandro, glaring at Lysander with murder in his eyes—each tattoo on his arm a tally of lives taken. For a while now, the three had been running scams together. But now, some unseen force had bound them to their seats. In front of each of them lay a single chess piece.
"Gentlemen, I appreciate you joining me this evening." Lysander's striking face emerged from the shadows.
Carlo's breath caught. "You... it's you!"
Lysander chuckled and idly flicked the pawn on the board. A strange hum resonated through the air. "It seems you weren't satisfied with our last game. I even received your... heartfelt invitation afterward." Morr hastily spoke up, "M-misunderstanding! A simple misunderstanding! Your skill at the table is unmatched... we all admit it! And as for the debts, well, we can discuss that, can't we?"
"Ehehe, your hot-tempered friend here doesn't seem to share your sentiment. I barely stepped out of the tavern before he came after me." Lysander tilted his chin toward Sandro.
"But don't be discouraged, my friends. Tonight, I'm the one inviting you to a game. If you win, we wipe the slate clean..." He paused for a moment, "No—let's sweeten the deal."
Carlo swallowed hard. "Sweeten it... how?"
Lysander rapped his ornate cane against the floor. In an instant, the raucous tavern transformed. The walls melted away, replaced by an enormous chessboard. Black-and-white squares stretched into the void. The three men found themselves standing on different tiles, pieces in a living game. Lysander remained at ease, his voice carrying through the vast space.
"The prize is this—The Golden Stratagem."
The board had split into two sides. Lysander commanded the white pieces. The three scoundrels were black. "A simple game," Lysander explained with an air of indifference. "We are all pieces on the board. Pawns advance. Rooks strike from a distance. The king stays safe in the rear. First to checkmate wins."
"Bullshit! I'll rip off that pretty little head!" Sandro snarled, his face flushing red. He tried to lunge forward, but the grid held him in place. Rage simmered in his eyes. He had stewed over Lysander's escape for days. Lysander, unfazed, continued, "Cheaters and rule-breakers have no place here." His gaze swept over them, and he smiled. "That might be... difficult for you."
The game began. Morr felt the weight of the situation. This wasn't a simple gamble. Last time, they had schemed and plotted, yet Lysander still walked away with a fortune. Was he a trickster? A magician? Feigning conversation, Morr's hand slipped into his coat pocket, fingers brushing against the cool steel of a pistol he had just acquired from the black market. The moment his fingertips grazed the weapon, it morphed into a fiery lizard. Flames licked his skin as the creature scurried across his body, and he lurched back, howling in pain.
Lysander watched, eyes gleaming with contempt. "Players who refuse to follow the rules," he murmured, "don't deserve to stay in the game."
Carlo's eyes gleamed with a feverish light as he gazed at Lysander's cane. If his instincts were right, this was the legendary staff of the Thousand Hands—the very artifact of the God of Games. The legends spoke of this god as a rebel among the divine, uninterested in worship, preferring instead to wander the mortal realm... No matter, for a cheat like Carlo, the chance to outplay a god was too irresistible to pass up. His excitement dissolved into reckless impulse as he commanded his pawn to charge forward, ignoring Morr's groans and Sandro's curses, only to be easily blocked by Lysander's rook on the very next move.
Meanwhile, Sandro gritted his teeth in silence, calculating how to use Morr and Carlo to buy himself time. He advanced his pawn cautiously, hoping to divert attention. But the feeble strategy fooled no one. Morr grumbled in frustration, "What the hell are you doing? Using my pieces as bait to save yourself?"
Carlo let out a cold laugh. "What a pathetic coward."
Their fragile alliance crumbled in an instant, as greed, fear, and anger tore them apart. Accusations flew, disrupting their formation and throwing the board into chaos. They could have worked together, but their own selfishness blinded them to opportunity.
Lysander watched them with a cold gaze. The outcome unfolded just as he had predicted. His movements were swift and graceful, every step precisely calculated, tightening his grip on the board with absolute control. One by one, his opponents fell, leaving only Sandro, his king teetering on the edge of defeat.
"Why?" Sandro spat, despair and fury twisting his face. You could've just killed us outright—why all this?"
"You lure people into your games, only to trample the rules in secret," Lysander said, stepping closer with unshakable composure. "And yet, even knowing this, I still gave you a fair chance to redeem yourselves. Clearly, you failed to take it."
"Checkmate."
The game ended in utter defeat for the black pieces. With a flick of Lysander's cane, the Golden Stratagem flared with a powerful light. The three scoundrels collapsed under its force, unable to move.
"As per the rules, losers must pay the price."
When they opened their eyes again, they found themselves forever changed. Morr was now a stammering fool, struggling to form complete sentences. Carlo's hands had grotesquely swollen, his once-nimble fingers now too bloated to ever roll a die again. And Sandro—he had shrunk to a pitiful size, small enough to be hunted down by the puniest of dogs.
"The rules of the game are absolute. That is my justice."
By the time the candlelight flickered once more, Lysander had vanished without a trace. But the wretches who dared defy the rules of the game would never forget his name. The tavern remained as lively as ever, as if nothing had ever happened. As for Lysander, he was probably already out there, somewhere in the world, hunting for his next game... or teaching another rule-breaker a lesson they'd never forget.
半神Lysander
Win or lose? Let's find out, darling.
游侠
敏捷
增益, 爆发英雄语音
ID/代码
215/Game
官方壁纸
天界被动
半神团队中的每个天神都算作任何派系的英雄，以完成协同要求。
1 位半神
+30% 防御2 位半神
击中时 +25 能量3 位半神
+15% 暴击率4 位半神
+30 急速5 位半神
+20 生命吸取技能与进步
英雄技能
特别升级
Grandmaster's Opening
1号位At the start of battle, Lysander immediately casts his Ultimate without spending any Energy, and while casting, Lysander is immune to control effects. All heroes—both enemies and allies—are defined as chess pieces with different functions. Heroes in the front line, the center of the back line, and the sides of the back line are defined as Pawns, Kings, and Rooks, respectively. These chess piece effects do not disappear when Lysander dies. Depending on the chess piece effect of Lysander himself, subsequent uses of his Ultimate will have different effects. When Lysander is deployed to the front line, his normal attacks are melee. From the back line, his normal attacks are ranged.
所需等级1
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