55. Basil - Battleground (Patreon)

Chapter 55

Battleground

Before this tournament began I would have hesitated, but not now. That single Chaos Source had been a declaration of war more serious to me than any threat that the slumlord might spout.

I sent the Headsman swinging at the bald fellow, who by now had drawn a full hand of cards. I couldn’t imagine a thug, even a leader among them, would have many cards – Hull had only had two to start, after all. I needed to strip the man quickly of his illegal power and then restrain him before he could do anything dangerous. 

To my shock, the slumlord took the blow full on, three cards shedding from him. Outside a Dueling Dome, they would normally be unknown to me, but to my surprise, their images flashed in the fading shimmer of shards. 

Three Chaos cards. I had thought the man might have one or two when I saw his Source, but this… He was clearly more dangerous than I had first assumed. However, it seemed my new Soul, Mindtrap specifically, would balance the scales. If I could see what his illegal cards could do, I could plan for them. Had Fate known that I’d face such an ordeal and had prepared me accordingly? The Twins truly were kind. 

A new card whipped into his hand. How? He’d just drawn, and he hadn’t used his only ball of Chaos to cast anything. 

“Does he have an upgraded Soul, Hull? An ability that lets him draw?” The lack of reply from my friend made me think he didn’t know, and I didn’t have time to look his way, drawing my own cards as fast as I was able. I didn’t have all of them back yet, so soon after my match with Hull, but I was able to get to five. Looking at the spread, it was like I could see Fortune watching over me.   

“Draw if you haven’t yet, Hull,” I said, glancing his way and seeing a Nether at the ready “We can subdue him and have him arrested.”

I had drawn all summon cards because I already had two Source floating above me: one of Air and one of Order. There were a few cards I might have mulliganed, but this wasn’t like an official duel where my opponent would give me the luxury of time. So, I moved backward, going around the table that Esmi had shared a wonderful lunch at only a few hours before, putting a bit more distance between me and the slumlord, all the while considering how to best use what I had drawn. 

“The gossip is you’re Rare now, little lord,” the man said to me. He played an Order Source up beside his Chaos, leaving him six cards in hand -- more options than I would prefer to deal with. However, with my early lead and Hull at my side, I was still confident we could neutralize him. “You might actually have a use in my deck.”

The thought of spending my existence helping one such as him was sickening to me. “I would rather be broken into shards than serve you.” 

“How naive to think you have a choice. Hull knows much better than that by now.” 

The bald man devoted both his Sources, and a huge Soul misted into being, seven, maybe eight feet tall, giving it only a foot or two of clearance beneath the arched ceiling of my room.  

 The gray-skinned orc came charging at me, leaving me confused. Was the slumlord not aware of what my Headsman could do? Or was he thinking along the same lines I was, to strip me of cards as quickly as possible before my full deck could return to my Mind Home? 

Whatever his reasons, I wasn’t about to take 4 damage needlessly, not when I had the perfect number of cards in hand to block the full amount using one of my Protections. That’s precisely what I did, and an oversized shield appeared in front of me, obscuring my view of the charging orc. A loud clang made it clear when the Soul’s ax made contact with the Spell, a moment after which the shield dissipated. The grayish orc had thrown the table to the side on his way to me, but the rebound from Penitence had pushed it back a few steps, leaving it in a hunched, devoted state. A terrible misplay, in my estimation. 

It was highly possible that my opponent was only used to bullying those weaker than him and might not know how to duel at all. 

To my utter surprise, two knives came streaking at me. The first flew wide, telling me that the blades weren’t Fated – weren’t from a card – but the second came straight at my face. Worried he might have other high rarity Relics like the one I had seen him lose, I kept Rust and threw my Water Moccasin forward, the Water card shattering in a burst and driving the blade to the side. 

The man may not have been a skilled duelist, but he was used to street fighting, something I wasn’t versed in at all.

“Watch his hands,” I said to Hull. I dared a longer look his way and saw that he held his trusty Hammer. 

That was good. The sooner we could put pressure on the slumlord the better. I wasn’t sure why Hull hadn’t charged him yet, but from first hand experience, I knew how much better Hull was now at using his cards effectively and trusted him to make the right call. He might be building up to some of his better Relics or a more powerful swing powered by Nether.    

Those thoughts whipped through my mind quickly as I refocused on the bald man across from me, not wanting to be caught off guard by a mundane attack again. He was staying by the door, either to keep his distance or to prevent us from escaping. 

I drew as soon as my mind relaxed, and from the corner of my eye I saw my focused Sources quickly came back to ready. My new cards were an Order Source and my mother’s Epic.

I hadn’t been able to mulligan Sources to the bottom of my heart to guarantee a Water Source Explosion, but neither had I drawn any Water Source yet. It was possible I might be able to get the Epic out, but not yet.  

“What sort of cards have you seen him use?” I asked Hull, as I played the Order Source. I didn’t have many options yet, but I had managed to best harder opponents by knowing their decks and countering them. “Anything you can know will help.”

“I dislike repeating myself,” the bald man growled to Hull. “If you want to leave this room alive, hit the boy.”

“You look like you’re doing fine,” Hull said. 

A glance to the side revealed to me that Hull was talking to the thug, not me. It had to be some sort of ploy, didn’t it? Not letting myself linger on that, I sent the Headsman at the Iron-Hide Orc before it could recover. The Chaos Soul’s devoted state let my card cleave through its neck without issue, turning it into a spray of shards. 

With three Source at the ready, I was tempted to use the two Order to draw another Source, hopefully getting to a Water so I could use Rust and my other Water cards. But doing that would leave me unable to play the other Protection in my hand, so instead, I merely focused an Air and an Order to bring the Helmet into play, leaving one Order Source at the ready. 

The weight of the Relic was familiar as I slipped it over my head, but I didn’t find the usual comfort in having it. This was partly due to the metal covering my mouth making me aware of how quickly I was breathing. I did my best to slow down, lest I hyperventilate, telling myself that I had two ways to defend now. We would survive this. We would win this. 

The slumlord brought out another Order Source but seemed disgusted as he looked down at his cards in hand. This was likely because his other two Source were still recovering from summoning the Iron-Hide and were thus unusable to him. 

“Hull,” the man said in a hissing, deadly whisper, “I swear that if you don’t attack now, all our agreements are as good as dust. Your cards will be mine, every last one of them, and the King? Well, long may he reign.”  

“You think you can coerce him with idle threats!” I said. I had to speak loudly for my words to reach outside of the helmet but I discovered it felt good to yell. “He’s not a card Soul you can order about! He won’t just –”  

Hull ran at me, Hammer raised.

“Hull, what are you doing?” I shrieked, scrambling back, but the Relic was fated and it swung at me unerringly. 

I quickly devoted my ready Order Source, and cast my second Protection, blocking for exactly 2 since I still had the Rust and Sea Titan in hand. As the Spell formed between us, I looked desperately for some indication that this was a ruse, a clever trap to fool our unwary foe, but there was nothing there: no hidden wink or half smile to let me know he was on my side. Hull looked like he had during our very first duel, full of rage and nothing more.

“Talk to me, Hull!” I demanded around the Spell. “You can’t be thinking to go along with this madness? Help me and you can be free of him. Hull? Hull??”  

I was shouting again, being loud. However, his lack of response and the stone faced look he gave me when I was able to see him again dwindled the confidence I had been stoking within, leaving me lost and afraid. 

The two new cards I drew bolstered me some, but not by much. One was an Order Source and the other a Condor.

Not knowing what Hull was thinking, I felt a desperate need to have another ally and a second defender out: one for the bald man and the other until Hull came to his senses. I had the Source available, and using them, the giant bird squawked into being at my side. Looking at it, I found I was much more grateful to have it at my side than in my hand. However, my Mind Trap power showed me something odd the longer I stared. 

The card that represented the Condor changed. 

Its Flying was gone, and sure enough the Condor didn’t take to the air, staying awkwardly afoot on its taloned feet. Was… the environment affecting it? The ceilings were only ten feet high – which was one of the reasons I had previously summoned Atrea on the balcony, so her wings would fit – but I hadn’t thought of the consequences now. This was terrible! Without Flying… 

I saw the bald man draw, and cursed myself. Like against Throice, I had waited too long.  

The slumlord summoned another Chaos orb, smiling in the red light that the blood-colored Source gave off. All four Source balls dipped in the air, most falling so far I knew they had been devoted. A red-bordered card flashed, twisting my stomach to see such a high Rarity, and a bent crown appeared on his head.

On its heels, the bald man let out a mighty shout, rattling the furnishings in the room, and pushing me back. Worse, my two Souls sagged and then cried out in pain, thorns of copper appearing around their legs, stabbing them, the effect of the Diadem damaging both. 

“Again, Hull,” the thug commanded. “The sooner this is done and we are gone, the better.”

With a grunt, Hull came lumbering back at me, this time empowering himself with some of his Nether. 

“Stop it, Hull! This isn’t what you want! I know yo –”

 My pleas didn’t slow his swing, leaving me no choice but to take the hit on my Helmet, the Relic shattering as it absorbed the 5 damage.  

When I reoriented myself, I heard the slumlord laughing – a dry, awful sound. “The foolishness of the nobility never ceases to amaze me. I’m convinced it’s the clean air that makes your minds feeble. You think a few days in your company can outweigh a lifetime of experience? And here I thought you played Equality.” 

“Fortune brings new possibilities every day, nay, every moment. Hull has changed.” I desperately wanted my speech to be true, but there was so little of the friend I had come to know in the way Hull hung silently off to the side, waiting for his massive Hammer to be ready again. I was beside myself with anger and frustration at seeing what this man had turned the Hull I knew into, but I was also growing increasingly terrified. The slumlord had said he would kill me, and if Hull truly was on his side, I had no hope of defeating them both, not with only two Water cards in hand and no Water Source to my name. 

My balcony was five stories up. If I leapt from it, would the remaining 9 cards in my Mind Home be enough to protect me from such a fall? Or could I use the defensive capabilities of the Sea Titan in such a situation? I had no idea, but either possibility seemed preferable to staying in a place where I seemed sure to die. 

I ran for it. 

“Don’t let him get away!” Ticosi snapped, and to my utter horror, Hull managed to slip in between me and the balcony.

“Hull… truly?” I said, the last of my hope draining away. Taking a few non-lethal swings at me was one thing, but I hadn’t believed he would stop me from escaping.  

“I tried to tell you, Hintal,” he said. “But you were too rich to listen.” Something wavered in his dark gaze. “You’re Rare now. It’s not like you’ll really be dead.”

Those words shook me to my soul and made me realize I had no other choice. I quickly drew two summon cards, and seeing neither used Water, I delved within. I discovered that the four remaining Source in my heart were one Order, one Air, and two Water. Even if it had been tied at two and two, I would have been able to choose, so I latched onto the Water, twisting it into a spiral. 

Water Source shot up around me, pushing Hull back, and I focused the whirling energy onto my Headsman. I experienced the same snap-pull I had felt when using the effect against Losum, and the Sea Titan vanished from my hand, replaced with the Headsman. Where the Headsman had stood, a whorl of water was rising, the teal flesh of the Sea Titan visible underneath.

The water shot out, slamming into all of us for 2 damage, destroying furniture and washing it up to the sides of the room. I didn’t get to see what cards Hull and Ticosi lost, but I did see that the slumlord didn’t block from hand and got another card, which had to be a Soul ability – a frighteningly powerful one, at that. To protect myself, I used the Rust to stop 1 point of damage and let the other strike my Mind Home; I wasn’t willing to give up my last Source or the Headsman in hand.  

From the shards that spun off me, I briefly saw the Greater Water Elemental, which meant I had just lost my other best blocker. 

A groan from the Sea Titan turned my attention to where it was pushing against the ceiling and floor, snapping wood and cracking stone, a fifty foot creature trying to fit within a much smaller space. The more destruction it caused the better, because I wasn’t expecting to win with it, just draw people to the commotion. But instead of breaking out of the room, with an anguished cry, the Sea Titan fell apart, its body collapsing in a huge splash of water and then shards. 

The slumlord was dripping wet and flicked his hand to dislodge a small portion of it. “Your lack of time outside a Dueling Dome is showing, little lord. Tragic.” 

My mind struggled to grasp what had just happened. The summoning had… failed? Because the space was too small? I had seen the limitations of the room impact the Carrion Condor negatively. Why hadn’t I considered that something similar might happen with other Souls? Now I was down a defender, and my Condor had but a single point of health remaining. At this rate, my only hope was that someone had seen the deluge of water that must have cascaded off of the balcony and hopefully under the door from the Sea Titan’s Arrival ability. 

Trying to delay my attackers, I summoned the Order Source I had gained on my draw and then used an Order and Air to resummon the Headsman.  

I didn’t attack with it or the Condor – doing so would see them damaged by the Chaos Diadem, and I needed to turtle as much as possible. I did, however, use my other two Source to cast Order’s Source Power, drawing another summon card in a flash of light. 

I had two cards in hand now, an Air source and the Rare, and I desperately prayed to the Twins that it would be enough.

The slumlord drew and played another Chaos source, giving him two at the ready. Without hesitating, he devoted both, bringing two new Souls into the waterlogged room. 

With a gesture from him, the new arrivals threw their chain bolas at my Souls, trapping both. The bolas did no damage themselves, but the Diadem flared, causing the copper thorns to reappear, doing 1 point of damage to my Headsman and finishing off my Condor, turning it into glittering motes.  

Despite my efforts, I was vulnerable once again. Why was no one coming to my rescue? Because they’re all waiting for you to arrive to play the Losers Final match, a practical part of me answered. Who would be anywhere else on day three of the Risings Stars Tournament, let alone near the dorms, of all places?  

“You know what to do, Hull,” the bald man grated. “Finish him off.”

Hull came in again from behind me, but with his Nether used up from his last attack, his Hammer hit for only 2. Still, that was 2 more damage than I could easily take and in the space Fate gave me, I agonized over whether to block some or take it all straight to my Mind Home. In the end, I let the damage through, hoping I would lose more Water cards that I wouldn’t be able to summon anyway. 

As the spray of cards left me I saw a Metal Golem and my other Carrion Condor, an utter failure of choice on my part.  

It doesn’t matter what those cards were. You’re dead either way, a frantic voice in my mind said. I gripped the Master Assassin card tighter. He’d won me multiple games before. Maybe, somehow he could do the impossible again. 

The cards I drew failed to support such ambitious hopes.  

The Penitence had been a game winning Spell in my last match and now it was practically useless. As for the Ice Wall, why couldn’t it have been part of the damage I had lost during the previous hit? The Twins had favored me in my match against Hull, but now that my life was on the line everything seemed to be going wrong. Was my fortune all used up?

I played my other Air Source and then pulled from three of my other Sources – devoting two Order and focusing an Air – to bring my Master Assassin into play. I’d get two more Order back next turn and maybe having two Air for its Source Power would help me against Chaos’s focusing effects. Did I even have anything left I could use it on? I didn’t know. This was too much for me: too many opponents, too much on the line, and only three cards left in my Mind Home. Three cards there and two in hand were all that was separating me from death, no matter what Hull called it.

In my drained and desperate state, I nearly commanded my Headsman to attack before realizing that the move would kill him because of the slumlord’s Diadem – what sort of slumlord had an Epic Relic? Hull had clearly been in the right to be afraid of this man. If I hadn’t strong-armed Hull back to my room, we would currently be safe out amongst the crowds, a place this thug surely wouldn’t have dared to attack us. 

Why hadn’t I listened to Hull? Why was I such a fool?

I watched the bald man with as much attention as I could manage while still keeping an eye on Hull. As near as I could tell, the Order Source the slumlord flicked into the air wasn’t one of the cards he had just drawn. Perhaps…perhaps he’d already played all his powerful cards. Perhaps all of those he had remaining were weak Order or Chaos Souls. 

The Souls he had out were just 1/2’s, after all. 

“Hull, stop this madness and help me,” I tried again. There was no way I could survive jumping off the balcony with only three cards. The only way was teamwork. “We can take him if –”

I didn’t see how many Source the bald man used, but I couldn’t miss the appearance of another Orc and then a monstrously large Soul. 

The Half Giant was huge, its body caught between a swirl of red Chaos energy and green skin, straining against the floor and ceiling. For a moment, I hoped that it would suffer the same fate as my Sea Titan, dispersing because there wasn’t enough room for it. As it turned out, the dents that my Titan had left in the room, breaking some beams and widening the space, seemed to be the reason that the Giant finally did materialize fully. It did so on its knees though, hunched, and like with the Condor, I saw its card flicker, changing based on the environment. 

“It got better,” I whispered, disbelieving that Fortune could be so cruel to me. 

“This is what it means to know your cards,” Ticosi said. “Curious you can see it though. Perhaps I will want your card for my deck, or at least to pull you out for a little novelty.”

And then he attacked with everything. One of the Slingers tossed a new chain at my Headsman, focusing and killing it due to the Diadem. Blessedly, Stealth stopped the other Orc Slinger from targeting my Master Assassin, so he would get to defend. The obvious choice there was the Half Giant, who was destroying the molding of the ceiling and the rugs on the floor as it shoved itself forward on its knees. Almost lazily, the Master Assassin threw two poison tipped daggers at it. The Giant shuffled forward a bit farther, ignoring the steel sticking out of it, and then convulsed, breaking apart into shards. The other two came at me, the Orc Warrior swinging with its ax while the Slinger whipped the heavy end of its bolas’ chains into me. It was a total of 3 damage, which I could block fully from hand. I used the Ice Wall to stop 2 and took the last, losing a Rust Spell from my Mind Home instead of the Penitence from hand. What I would have given for a Water Source to be able to destroy the Diadem or Hull’s Hammer! I nearly smacked the Water fabricator I wore on my wrist, as if that would give me another Source somehow. I never should have used the Source Explosion on the Sea Titan, but I just hadn’t known that it would fail to work.  

At some point Hull had put on his Sucking Void -- this turn? One of his Nether was devoted -- and then he devoted the other four Nether to bring out two Marauders. 

I stared at the slavering creatures. I could stop one with my Master Assassin, but the other one and Hull’s Hammer… I could only block 2 damage and take 2 from my Mind Home. It was over. I was done for. 

I didn’t have any words left for Hull; I just looked at him in utter despair. In contrast, the Marauders were nothing but eager to dine on my flesh, and Hull hefted his Hammer in kind. And then he stood there, a slight frown on his midnight-covered skin. 

“Do it!” Tiscosi hissed at him from the other side of the room. 

The Marauders let out guttural whines, like dogs waiting to be fed, and then they turned on Hull, clawing at him with their talons but unable to get past his Sucking Void. He’d hesitated too long, and his opportunity to attack passed. I felt the tightness of my Mind Home lessen and I desperately drew the two last cards in it.  

The Golem was no good to me in my hand, so I used a single Air Source to summon it. If I could just get rid of the slumlord, Hull would see sense – I had to believe that. My Golem charged forward, running past the two focused Slingers and devoted Warrior, punching the Chaos wielder. Like before, the bald man took the hit without blocking or flinching, shedding two cards, another Orc Warrior and a strange, Rare spider.  

And then he drew another. How many cards did he have?? 

While I still could, I used my other Air Source for its Source power, bringing my Golem back to focused so it couldn’t be targeted by attacking Souls. Wind whipped around the construct and it looked more alert.   

“When this is over,” the bald man said, cracking his neck calmly, “we’re going to have a long talk about loyalty, Hull. Very long and very focused. But first…” He speared me with his gaze, playing another Chaos Source so that he finally had more source balls above his head than me. Then he Bellowed.

And to my horror, my Master Assassin slumped, copper thorns stabbing it for a point of damage. Because the Below affected all Souls instead of a specific target, the Stealth proved ineffective. 

The slumlord cast another Spell, which picked both his own focused Warrior up and my Master Assassin, since his Stealth had been broken, and threw them at each other.  

Reading the effect of the card text for the second time now, I knew my Assassin would die in the exchange, so I devoted one of my ready Order, bringing the Rare back to my Mind Home with his ability, just as I had done in so many duels. 

The bald man smiled, a ghastly thing without any warmth. “I’ve seen that trick before, little lord. Seen it and been waiting for it.” He cast a Rare Spell I had glimpsed earlier in our fight – glimpsed and hoped he only had a single copy of.  

With a painful tug, the Master Assassin was ripped from my Mind Home and appeared in the flesh, standing beside the slumlord. Worse, the Assassin came charging at me. Like Hull earlier, there was no regret in the Rare Soul’s eyes as he sent two daggers streaking at me.  

I knew there was no hope, but I went ahead and blocked the 2 damage with my Ice Wall. The shards from it had barely faded when I saw another flying dagger approach, not from the Soul but the slumlord again. In shock, I fumbled my last card, Penitence, out of my hand to stop the blade. No sooner was it turned aside than the man was there, having run in the wake of his thrown dagger. He stabbed me with a final knife in hand, the blade sinking into my gut. 

I gasped. I hadn’t been cut or bruised in over a decade, ever since I had started filling my Mind Home with cards. The pain was excruciating, just like it had been in Lustra’s vision.  

“I lied,” Ticosi said in a whisper, keeping me upright with his other hand. “You’re obviously a distraction for Hull, and with your Soul at Rare, you might be able to tell someone about our plans once you’re summoned. Too risky by half. You’ll be nothing but shards before the day is done.”

Fear took hold of me, stronger than any pain. The thought of ceasing to exist completely unmoored any resistance I had left. 

“Please, no,” I said, hating the hypocrisy I was spewing in my final moments but unable to stop. “I’m valuable. I can see cards, can see how they’ll progress. I’m worth keeping.” If I were a card, maybe I could see Esmi again and tell her how sorry I was for dying. 

“Hmm,” Ticosi said, considering me. He hadn’t pulled the dagger from my belly for the finishing blow, and it was a cold pressure living in my gut, radiating agony in all directions. Yet with the life leaking out of me and staining my water soaked shirt,  all I cared about now was hearing this horrible man say he would make use of me. “That is interesting. I’ll give your card a read and will be much more likely to keep it whole if you cooperate. Now: hold still and die. Hull! This is the moment. Come finish the job and convince me that you don’t need killing, too.”

If I had carried some sort of weapon like this man did I could have struck him then, while his attention was diverted. Would it have made a difference? I didn’t know how many cards he still had left, and up close I could see the impossible – he had red flakes in his pale eyes. I’d never stood a chance, especially not when fighting against the two of them. Hull had betrayed me, betrayed what we could have been. He’d said he would, but I had refused to listen: too stubborn, too naive, and too desperate for a friend after being spurned by Warrick. 

I heard the slavering laugh of the approaching Demon Marauders, and like the coward that I was, I shut my eyes. All I could do was hope that the pain they brought would be brief.