Road to be the Best Chess Player in the World!-Chapter 457: A Clean Game
The title that Sheva meant was the Endgame Master, the first ever one he had gotten after the system’s upgrade a few months ago. He still used it over and over again, as the title really proved its usefulness in the most clutch moment. This time, as the game had already entered the final phase, Sheva decided to use it directly, wanting to take advantage of its effect to find a breakthrough.
’Okay, Endgame Master... Please, help me once again today!’
The moment the title was activated, his aura shifted, as if a beast was awakened within him. Max Warmerdam himself was also taken aback by this sudden change, looking at Sheva warily. Right now, gone was the lazy look that his opponent radiated, replaced with an unwavering pressure as if the boy was a predator and he was the prey here.
’What the hell?! This shouldn’t be scientific, right?!’ The Dutch GM was completely dumbfounded, his back sweating unconsciously.
However, this was just the side effect of the title. In the next few moves, Sheva suddenly showed the sharpness beyond Max Warmerdam’s mind, something that he only found in the best among the best. Not only that, but Sheva’s speed also increased, only processing every move within one to two minutes.
’Yeah, this should be what everyone said about having to be wary of his speed, right?’ Max’s gaze turned solemn. ’I need to calm down and get out of his rhythm first. Once I get led under his nose, everything will be over for me.’
Indeed, after becoming a GM—no, even before that, probably around his Olympiad campaign—people had already started studying Sheva’s style. So, it was no wonder some knew about Sheva’s blitz style in the endgame moment.
Honestly, if it were anyone else besides Magnus or Hikaru, people would’ve just scoffed this off as an intimidation tactic. Unfortunately, Sheva had the reputation to back up his style, as it had already been proven so many times that he could turn the threat into reality. In this situation, losing calmness was definitely the worst outcome, yet being too hesitant wouldn’t be good for Max Warmerdam as well.
Unfortunately, it was easier said than done.
+0.3
+0.1
0.0
-0.2
-0.6
-0.9
While it was slow, but the game started to shift into Sheva’s direction. The advantage was still quite subtle, and if not careful, everything could go away with just a single snap. However, Sheva could see clearly where his advantage lay, so he didn’t have to worry about making a stupid mistake.
’I just need to take it slow, no need to rush things up...’ He took a deep breath, fist tightening under the table.
After a slow start, the game suddenly changed into a high-paced one, with both players going as if their lives depended on it. The advantage that Sheva built finally reached stagnancy, and before Max made any other huge blunder, he would be stuck in this situation for a while.
Well, the same could be said for Max Warmerdam. He also growled in frustration, feeling like the only breakthrough was that if Sheva somehow made a big blunder. Unfortunately, with the addition of the Endgame Master title, that hope was like a pipe dream, almost impossible to realize.
Without anyone noticing, the game finally crossed the threshold of 40 moves, giving them both an additional 30 minutes in time. While for Sheva, this didn’t mean anything, for Max, this was the break that he needed, finally giving him a short time to breathe. The situation also got stabilized. So, with the sky won’t be falling on him soon, Max started to lower his guard, feeling like the game was still savable.
However, as the game went by, his concentration also started to decline. It was clear from some of the stupid mistakes that he made, which Max regretted soon after they happened, that he was not at his best game. Unfortunately, that excuse didn’t change anything other than pity and mockery. Then, the nail in the coffin was his blunder in getting his bishop pinned into his king, closing down his own room to breathe.
"Oh! This is going to be bad for Max Warmerdam!" Medina said excitedly. "Now, he has to put more resources into defending that bishop, and his freedom is gone already! He has to gather all of his forces there, or the pieces he lost will be unbearable to handle!"
Medina’s assessment was clear and concise, and even Max Warmerdam himself saw it. He started sweating profusely, finding that every move he made only choked him more.
’My bishop cannot move. If I move my knight, it will remove the bishop’s protection. My rook? No square is valuable enough to deliver a counterattack. My king? No, both opponents’ rooks are close enough to support each other. Fuck! How could I be in this situation?!’
Max Warmerdam bit his lips unconsciously, as his mind was running like the quickest computer in the world. In the end, to cut his losses, the man decided to gamble. To give more freedom in his movement, he finally gave up his only rook for Sheva’s bishop, leaving the game with three pawns, two rooks, and a king for Sheva against a knight, a dark bishop, four pawns, and a king on his side.
Just based on this alone, Sheva had two points of material. However, his advantage wasn’t just that. No, it was his rooks’ active positions, controlling the center line like the lord of the world. This arrogant position forced Max’s pieces to fall back if they didn’t want to get killed, yet that was also just a desperate movement to save the half-sinking ship.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to bring the game to a draw. One by one, all of Max’s pawns, which were also his lifelines, were hunted by the hungry rook, infiltrating cunningly before stabbing everyone from the back.
With more pieces fallen and the tremendous pressure on the A file as the black pawn there was ready to march through the promised land, even if Max Warmerdam couldn’t see the engine clearly, the man knew that this was a dead position. He still struggled for a bit, but after the promotion was on the board, he couldn’t help but sigh in defeat.
The handshake was formed, and finally, Sheva won his first-ever game in Tata Steel 2023.
