The reveal phase began.

  His opponent had played a card in their defensive lane. It flipped, shimmered, and the hologram of a sea otter sprang to life. The creature stood upright, wearing a necklace made of shells and holding a rock in one of its paws. Water dripped from its sleek fur.

  Rockbreaking Otter ??

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Type: Creature

  Affinity: Water ??

  Cost: 2

  Points: 1

  Effects: Loot.

  On the other side of the board, the other otter units perked up. They raised their heads and squeaked in welcome, paws clapping together in a happy rhythm. The [Rockbreaking Otter] responded with a playful spin.

  Deckard tried to keep a serious face. He really did.

  But—darn it—those otters were just too cute.

  It was the way their tiny paws moved like little hands. Their round faces and twitchy whiskers didn’t help either. And those big, glossy puppy eyes—wide and full of mischief. Even their wet fur somehow made them look extra soft, like plush toys.

  He forced himself to look away and focus.

  Tsk. Yet again, a loot card.

  Loot was a nasty keyword.

  Loot – Activate a random 1-cost skill card.

  Otter decks followed the classic lottery archetype. Sometimes they triggered a skill card that was actually useful. Other times, the result was a total flop. It was unpredictable, but most skill cards had positive effects, and otter creatures offered good value for their cost.

  Deckard had lost to otter decks before. But more often than not, his deck’s consistency beat dumb luck.

  The otter reached into a fold of skin and removed a scallop shell. It brought the shell down against the rock like a pair of crashing cymbals. A sharp crack rang out as the shell splintered, releasing a soft glow. A new skill card shimmered into place on the board.

  Calcification

  Rarity: Common

  Type: Skill

  Affinity: ??

  Cost: 1

  Effects: Fortify 1.

  Cracks in the castle wall pulsed with white light as a crust of mineral spread outward, coating the surface. Next to the castle’s HP symbol, a small +1 icon blinked into place.

  Fortify? That’s new.

  Most of the decks Deckard had seen around here focused on Water-affinity cards. Seeing an Earth-affinity card around here was unusual—but then again, that was the point of Loot. Complete randomness.

  Deckard tapped the keyword.

  Fortify – Grants your castle armor that regenerates every turn.

  Even one fortify point would have been annoying to deal with earlier in the match. But now? It was far too late to matter.

  Across the table, his opponent smiled, clearly pleased with the lucky draw. She gave her beret a playful tilt. “Tough luck, pal.”

  Despite her being level 30, or the animation on her esper’s staff, Deckard didn’t feel intimidated.

  On his side of the board, the card he’d played in the attacking lane flipped and formed a swirling void. His [Sturdy Turtle], [Royal Starfish], and [Sunflower Sea Star] were pulled into it, engulfed in a spiral. One by one, they dissolved and vanished into the vortex.

  The card lifted off the board and exploded into a burst of blinding light. Within the radiance, a black silhouette began to form. It was the outline of a turtle shell, stark and still inside the swirling glow.

  Deckard leaned back, smiling to himself. This animation never gets old.

  Out of the light, two spinning projectiles burst forth—the starfish from earlier. They spiraled across the board, slicing clean through two otter defenders. The creatures let out high-pitched squeaks before vanishing in puffs of animated foam.

  Across the table, his opponent’s mouth dropped open as the glowing shell descended and struck the ground with a dull thud, releasing a burst of steam.

  From within, a hooded head rose. The black hood concealed its eyes, casting its face in shadow. Two humanlike arms followed—thicker, stockier than normal—each gripping a short dagger.

  The legendary Turtle Ninja had arrived.

  Turtle Ninja ??

  Rarity: Legendary

  Type: Fusion Creature

  Affinity: ??

  Cost: 1 + [Turtle] + [Starfish] + [Starfish]

  Points: 5

  Effects: Creates 2 [Sea Shuriken] cards in the player’s hand. Heals 2.

  Synergy: Activate the two [Sea Shuriken] immediately.

  He’d loved this card the moment he saw it. But after unlocking its synergy bonus, it had only gotten better.

  Now, instead of having to wait for the next turn to destroy two enemy creatures—or spend extra resources to activate the [Sea Shuriken] token skills—they triggered immediately. And for free.

  The two shuriken had already cleared the path. As the Resolution Phase began, the [Turtle Ninja] surged forward. Behind it ran the [Red Macaw]. The ninja wound up and slashed the castle wall, stone chips bursting outward on impact. The [Red Macaw] rammed in right behind it.

  The mineral armor cracked, and the walls shattered.

  Victory!

  StubbornTiger wins!

  [Card Master Profession Level Up!]

  Congratulations! You’re now a novice card master.

  You’ve unlocked a new title: [Novice].

  [Deal the Cards] has been upgraded.

  “Good game,” Deckard said, voice calm as he collected the cards from the pot. Spotting an otter-related skill card he didn’t own yet, he smiled and slipped it into his inventory.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  His opponent lingered for a moment, clearly still reeling from the sight of the legendary Turtle Ninja. At last, she blinked, regaining composure. “Thanks, StubbornTiger.”

  The cube of flickering static that had shielded the match crackled, then collapsed. She stepped off the platform, still shaking her head at the decisive finish.

  She walked over to a group of friends waiting nearby. They didn’t bother lowering their voices. “So? Was that really StubbornTiger?”

  “Without a doubt. He just destroyed me. He has at least two legendaries,” she replied.

  “What?! Share the footage!”

  “Two legendaries? In one game? That’s nuts.”

  “Look! He’s got an epic card, too!”

  From the people surrounding the arena, more voices chimed in.

  “Hey, Tiger! Next time, let us watch the whole thing!”

  “StubbornTiger, let’s befriend each other! You can give me a few pointers.”

  “Yo! Tiger—where’d you get those legendaries?!”

  Deckard adjusted his glasses and kept a neutral expression, trying to stay composed.

  More and more were recognizing him from his Nova Cardia days. Even though card games weren’t as popular as they once were, there were still enough fans in places like this to make him feel like some famous hotshot. Even his social feed had started buzzing with friend requests and fan messages.

  And those who didn’t recognize him still came closer, drawn by the sight of two legendaries in one match. Having one legendary was rare enough. Being able to play two in a single match had already sent ripples through the local player base.

  He’d wanted to stay under the radar and build his strength before people started recognizing him again. The last thing he needed was a crowd chasing him down, asking endless questions, or worse—spying on how he played and where he farmed legendary cards.

  “Sorry. No can do. Sorry, sorry,” he said, waving his hands as he backed away from the growing crowd.

  The fewer people who knew his deck, the better.

  He was fifteen minutes past his usual lunch time, but seeing how close he was to leveling the Card Master profession to 10, he’d decided to stay a little longer. And now, finally, he could see what he’d earned.

  He opened the details of the skill’s upgrade.

  Deal the Cards (Profession)

  Description: By spending so much time playing cards, you understand how to use the lost inscription technology in them.

  Skill effects:

  Create three decks of six skill cards each;

  You can switch between decks once every 22 hours;

  You’re able to unequip skill cards.

  It had taken five days at the Parlor to get to this point. Finally, he was starting to understand the direction this profession was heading.

  Each new tier means more skills per deck, more decks, and a shorter cooldown.

  This kind of profession would only become more valuable as it leveled up. Five skills hadn’t been enough to make dungeon runs viable—but with six? It might just work. He’d finally reached the minimum power threshold to start hunting again.

  Deckard clenched his fist and smiled. Sticking with this profession had been the right call. Now, he turned his attention to the new title that had come with the upgrade.

  Novice (Common)

  Title description: Your reputation as a talented and hardworking professional earns you more benefits and rewards.

  Title effects: Whenever you level up a profession, you’re awarded 1% of the professional level gained as free experience.

  Conditions to unlock [Novice]:

  Reach level 10 in any profession. {complete}

  It wasn’t anything special, but the boost to his profession was more than welcome.

  Alright. Now I can go have some lunch.

  He opened the menu again, already thinking about the leftover chicken from last night, when a hand tapped his shoulder.

  “Excuse me. Deckard?”

  The voice was deep. Familiar. He turned to find a broad-shouldered, bald man with deep brown skin and a confident smile.

  It took Deckard a second, but the memory clicked—back in the tavern at Stiltwave Village, when he’d faced Ratu. This was the burly guy who’d lent him a creature card with no strings attached. The first one in AstroTerra who’d called him out as the Stubborn Tiger.

  He took a moment to recall his name. “Keon,” Deckard said, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  The man chuckled. “That’s right! Good memory. I told you we’d run into each other at a parlor sometime.”

  He gestured toward the lounge of the Gaming Parlor. “Mind if we chat for a moment?”

  Deckard nodded. After Keon’s show of goodwill back in Siltwave, he couldn’t very well refuse.

  As he followed him, Deckard took in Keon’s gear—light cotton clothes and a compact shield generator mounted on his wrist. He was already a level 30 medic.

  I really did spend a long time on Beginner Island, huh? He and Keon must have started the game at roughly the same time, but he was already way ahead of him.

  At the far end of the room, beyond the arena platforms and just before the private tournament doors, there was a lounge space filled with soft seating. Players chatted quietly in scattered groups.

  Deckard hadn’t spent much time here himself. When he wanted to unwind, he would usually log out and make himself a cup of tea. But he’d seen others use this spot for a quick break and a chat before diving back into the grind of Terralore.

  Keon dropped into a cushioned chair, and Deckard settled in across from him.

  “So…” Deckard started. “What’s up?”

  “I’m doing alright. There’s never a shortage of work for a support,” Keon said, lifting the wrist with his shield generator. “And I’ve been doing well down here, too.”

  “Oh, really?” Deckard leaned in, curious. “Been playing much Terralore?”

  “Kind of.”

  Deckard raised an eyebrow. “How do you kind of play Terralore?”

  Keon laughed. “Okay, let me rephrase that.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I don’t really play Terralore, but I follow the competitive scene—and place a few bets along the way.”

  “I see… The NPC at the kiosk did mention you can bet on other people’s games.”

  “That’s right. Which brings me to why I wanted to talk to you.” He paused. “There’s a tournament coming up. Two-thousand credit prize pool. There are seats still available. Want in?”

  Deckard’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the entry fee?”

  Keon waved the question away. “Don’t worry about that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s on the house. Consider it an investment.”

  Deckard studied him. “What’s your angle here, Keon?”

  Keon smiled. “Let’s just say that if I were to place a generous bet on you, and you ended up doing well…” He let the implication hang in the air.

  “You can make a small fortune. I suppose I should be flattered you think I’ll do well in a tournament,” Deckard said.

  “I have faith in you. I’ve been a fan since your Nova Cardia days. The way you beat that fisherman in the village with such a lousy deck only proves that you’re just as good in Terralore. So? What do you say? You just have to show up and play. Prize money’s yours to keep. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

  Deckard took out his spectacles and wiped them with his shirt. This was the reason he’d joined AstroTerra in the first place—to compete in tournaments and make money, at least until he could land a sponsorship or something more stable.

  “What’s the tournament format?” he asked.

  “Eight players. Knock-out. Best of 1. One deck. Three subs.”

  Deckard nodded, thinking it through. From what he’d read online, many tournaments required players to register three decks. One would be banned by the opponent, forcing you to choose between the other two.

  He didn’t have enough cards to participate in those yet. But this tournament was right up his alley.

  The three subs were sideboard cards he could swap between rounds—just enough to adapt.

  And the prize money. Two thousand credits. Enough to cover his mom’s nursing home bill this month and then some. Month after month, the bills kept piling up. Finally having something come in would be a relief.

  “Fine,” Deckard said. “When’s the tournament?”

  “Yes!” Keon said, pumping his fist. “I’ll message the host right away. Three days from now. I’m sending you everything I’ve got. I know most of the players in the lineup—and their decks. Here.”

  KingKeon has shared a document with you.

  Deckard opened it. Stats, deck lists, player notes, and match links flooded his screen. “Y-you did your homework,” Deckard said as he scrolled through all the pages rife with information.

  Keon grinned. “You’re welcome. I know you’re not big on adding friends, so shall we meet at 2:50 p.m., three days from now? Here?”

  Deckard smiled. He had refused to list anyone as friends in the game so far. But he had a good feeling about this guy. He sent him a friend request.

  As Keon got the notification, his eyes widened. “Oh?! Thanks!”

  “Just don’t share my contact with anyone.”

  “Deal,” Keon said, stretching out a hand.

  Deckard shook it.

  Three days from now, he'd be in his first real Terralore tournament—and he intended to win it.