Warriors will die if they charge.

Marcus's current hand consists of: Stick of Wheat, Longsword of Wheat, Goblet of Gold Coins, Goblet of Squires, Shield Chariot, Shield Knight, Stick of Noble, Shield Bishop, and a Goblet King that can be played as the bottom card.

He glanced at Losella, who seemed certain of victory, and suddenly felt less confident.

No way, I'm... the All-in God of War!

"Long sword and wheat ears".

With a snap, the piece of cardboard hit the table, and Marcus crossed his arms and groaned a few times.

"With my skills, you can't possibly win."

"Oh, really?" Lorra squinted, mentally calculating whether she should call.

18 out of 40 cards have been played, leaving 22 cards in the deck. Among them, 34 cards are larger than the Goblet Coin. We can't afford to lose this point.

She drew a card, placed it gently in front of her, and pushed it to the center of the long table: "Wooden Stick Soldier".

"Hmm... waiter." Marcus tossed down a card, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Your turn."

Bridge is an interesting game of strategy, and Lorthera knows that very well.

You can choose to take your time and fight your opponent at a snail's pace, using adjacent cards to achieve small victories, exhausting most of your cards in the first round, and making each subsequent round a matter of luck and courage.

But the mage wouldn't do that; she casually played a card.

"Shield Nobles"

Marcus stared at the noble card holding the shield, gripping the cardboard in his hand tightly, realizing he had met his match.

This woman was testing my psychological expectations: whether I would continue fighting and reveal my trump card, or willingly give up this point.

Now all we have left are the bishop and the king, who are nobles who can defeat Lor'thera. If we play one of them, what will happen next?

She continues to play, and if she plays a Queen or a King, I have to play a King of the Goblet to score that point.

Damn it, all in!

"Shield Bishop!"

Lorra gently placed the cards on the table, pressed her index finger against the corner of the cards, and lifted them up:

"Queen of the Stick"

She could tell from Marcus's struggling eyes that he must have a trump card in his hand, but in bridge, the outcome isn't about who wins, but about how many rounds you win.

Marcus hesitated for a long time, noticing Lorra's observing gaze, covered the remaining seven cards in his hand, thought for a moment, and then put on the Cloak of Intelligence.

In an instant, his mind became much clearer.

I can't follow her, this woman is just waiting for me to expose her underwear.

Lothra scored the first point.

In the second round, each player drew a card, and it was Lorthera's turn to be the dealer.

She first played a stick coin, as if predicting that Marcus would definitely play a shield coin, one level higher, and said:

"Mr. Marcus, one hundred gold dirhams is enough to buy a gilded shield."

Marcus's hand, gripping the shield and gold coin, suddenly paused. He glanced at the mage, who looked completely at ease, having somehow acquired a cup of coffee. He then moved his finger slightly to the right, knocking away the wine cup soldier he had just drawn.

"Wine Glass Soldier"

"Shield Attendant"

"Longsword Chariot"

Lorra took a sip of her steaming coffee and looked at the cloak of intelligence on Marcus's shoulders:

"If you'd like, I have a knight's longsword in my hand..."

No, she's influencing me with her words; I have to think of a way.

Marcus paused for three seconds, then turned to Bardin: "Brother Dwarf, what do you say, should I go with you or not?"

"Of course we have to go! Losing to a wizard would be too embarrassing; she owes us a drink!"

Marcus threw out his wooden stick noble without hesitation, and this time Lorra didn't follow up, simply saying, "Next round."

With the buff from the All-in God of War, Marcus managed to hold his own against Lothera. He was aggressive and never skipped a card he could play, and even used the King of the Goblet, which he had been using as his last resort, in the sixth round.

In the seventh round, it was Marcus's turn to be the dealer. He looked at the two cards he had left in his hand, the stick and the ear of wheat, and the Queen of the Wine Glass, and fell into deep thought.

The mage has 3 cards left in his hand. According to the rules of the game, the mage loses once all his cards are played.

I only have the smallest wooden stick and wheat ear in my hand to be the dealer's bottom card. If I follow suit in this round, it's equivalent to losing.

The current score is 3-3. There are eleven rounds in pairs bridge, which means that even if I lose this round, it will only be 4-3, and I still have 4 rounds to turn the score around.

With all four Kings played, my Queen of the Goblet card guarantees me a point.

This round, I lost points as my trump card. In the next round, Losella will play first as the dealer. If I draw a card that beats her remaining cards, I might win two rounds in a row.

With the cloak of intelligence, Marcus felt his mind had never been so clear. Statistically speaking, Lorthera, with an extra card, had a better chance of winning than him, no matter what.

He suddenly regretted it. Why didn't he take the hundred gold coins? Who could guarantee that the ordinary item he won in the lottery would be a magical item like the Intelligence Cloak? Maybe next time it would be a useless stone, or even "stewed meat" from the latrine?

That's 100 gold dirhams, how much can you get for that?

Change into clean and tidy clothes, eat fresh meat and ale at every meal, and buy a boat ticket to visit the big cities to the north.

A hundred gold dirhams, if placed in a leather bag, would definitely rattle and clatter as you walk; it would be so heavy it would pull down your belt.

"Damn, this is so annoying."

After a long while, Marcus suddenly said something that Lothera couldn't understand, and then slammed the wheat-ear stick in his hand onto the table.

Lorthera's jewel-like purple eyes remained fixed on him, showing no joy at the prospect of victory.

She gently pressed a piece of straw and a wheat ear onto the table.

"Mr. Marcus, you only have one card left."

"I know." Marcus pulled off the cumbersome cloak of intelligence, feeling much refreshed, and without hesitation threw the Queen of Goblets, symbolizing winning this round and losing the game, onto the table.

But the card didn't fall onto the table. An invisible hand lifted the magnificent queen, who was holding a wine glass, and as Marcus looked on in confusion, Lorra whispered:

"The Queen should quietly await her destiny, her appearance signifying a final elegy... I thought this would be a brilliant and thought-provoking game, and you still had a chance to turn the score around, but you seem to have a different idea, Marcus."

Despite losing the hand, Marcus was in a pretty good mood. He snatched Bardin's glass, took a big gulp, and laughed heartily.

"It's just a tattered cloak. I'll give it to you if you like it. To be honest, wearing it makes me feel really uncomfortable, and I always end up thinking about useless things."

"You finally understand, buddy. Magic is all just a bunch of deceptive sorcery. The only things we should truly believe in are the traditions passed down from our ancestors and the weapons we have." Bardin gave Marcus a thumbs-up as he realized the truth. He then turned and slapped the table at Lorra.

"Wizard, did you hear that? Marcus gave you this junk. Don't keep us from drinking; get us out of this cage right now!"

Lorra nodded slightly, took the cloak of intelligence from Marcus, lightly brushed her fingers across the delicate silk fabric and polished the smooth sapphire, then a milky white halo flashed in her hand and the cloak disappeared.

She watched Marcus arguing with Bardin and found it quite amusing—a straightforward gambler who didn't care about profit.

But can someone who doesn't care about profits still be called a gambler?

To be honest, she didn't like this feeling of being out of control. He should have been holding the last wine glass, Queen, barely surviving the remaining four rounds.

With her hands clasped on the table, Lor's tone softened slightly:

"Let me reintroduce myself. I am Losella Orlando from the Silver Mountain City Magic Academy. I am here to study some strange phenomena in the Riverside Forest."

"Marcus Norfitz."

The dwarf scoffed, "Bardin Greenok."

"Alright, you two troublemakers, since the last card hasn't been played, I think this bet is void. Here's the agreed-upon 100 gold dir."

A barely perceptible glint flashed in Lorra's eyes as a heavy bag of gold coins landed on the table with a clanging sound, its weight suggesting considerable importance.