16. Basil - Winning Isn't Everything (Patreon)

Chapter 16

Winning Isn’t Everything

I almost cried out in physical pain to see one of my Headsman cards destroyed, barely registering the other two I lost as they vanished alongside the first, a Carrion Condor and my other Protection Spell.

“Three damage to Basil of Hintal. This leaves him with only twelve remaining.”

The announcer’s cool voice cut through the air, startling me nearly as much as the Golem’s attack. She had been so silent up until this point compared to the one in my last match I had almost forgotten that she was there.

Despite the damage, my mind was free to be delved again, and so I grabbed for two summon cards, hoping to find my remaining Headsman. I got a pair of Sky blue Air cards for my trouble, both of them Condors.

I tsked, thoughts racing. The Hulking Golem had been pushed back a few feet by the flurry of card shards it had stripped off of me, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before it would be able to accept another command. I still had one source in my hand, Air, so I played it. Along with my newly refreshed source, I now had four available to me. But what to summon? I had planned to defeat my opponent quickly, yet he was the one who had more Souls on the field and had managed to strike me first. I couldn’t let this continue, and yet I was torn how to stop it. Equality would let me eliminate one of his two Golems, but that was hardly worth it. No, I needed to match his Souls with my own, but not a Condor – their attack wasn’t high enough at the start.

Pulling on all the source I had available, I devoted one Order and focused the rest, summoning my Master Assassin. Energy poured into the crown of my head, coursing through my chest and right arm, burning like fire compared to the small things I had called forth before. The gold-bordered Master Assassin card vibrated in turn, flashing hot briefly and then it was gone.

Before me was a masked man in black, much the same size as a regular Assassin. However, the speed with which he surveyed his surroundings and then turned to me, revealed to any watching closely that he was clearly a cut above.

His eyes narrowed, and a raspy voice came from behind his mask. “Why has a summoner with greater skill not purchased me from you yet?”

The Master Assassin was rarely pleasant in our interactions, but after my recent misplay – and in the middle of the Rising Stars Tournament no less – his usual barb stung all the more.

“Because no one has offered me a trade for you,” I explained, leaving the larger truth unsaid. And because you are a key part of my deck.

He took in the surrounding crowds just as quickly as he had clocked the two opposing Golems. “Then I will have to make an impression.” His cold eyes drilled into me. “Be sure that I do.” He then vanished as completely as the regular Assassin before him, slipping into a shadow cast by the Hulking Golem.

I tried not to let his departing words affect me, but I found the sudden added pressure disconcerting. It was one thing to have my own hopes for my performance, not to mention Esmi’s and Warrick’s expectations of me, but to try and juggle the wishes of my Souls on top of that? That felt like too much to bear.

I closed my eyes for a split second, centering myself. When I reopened them I knew what I needed to do. I couldn’t attack right away with my Master Assassin, regardless of his desire that I showcase him. Doing so would break his Stealth and leave him devoted, making him vulnerable to attack. I didn’t have two Order Source available to save him if he was attacked, so for now, he needed to stay in hiding.

I did need to eliminate at least one of my opponent’s Souls though, and that meant it was time to Hunt with my regular Assassin, like I should have earlier in the duel. I whispered a brief command, and the Soul revealed himself, much to the crowd’s delight. He charged at the Hulking Golem that had attacked me, and I backed away, not wanting to get caught up in the fray.

The blade my Assassin wielded was short, much shorter than the Golem’s arm, but he slipped past the metal construct’s initial swing, burying his dagger in its side. The Assassin was stuck there a moment, holding onto his weapon, and that was all the time the Golem needed to bring a fist down, turning my Soul into a spray of card shards. The Golem didn’t survive long after that, the metal where the blade had touched melting away, causing the Golem to collapse in on itself sideways before breaking into shards as well.

“The Assassin’s Venom destroys the Hulking Golem,” the announcer explained for the crowd’s benefit. “And in turn, the Golem destroys the Assassin. The Metal Golem gains +1 attack in the exchange.”

I could see silver golem gain copper plating on its arms, both limbs looking bulkier than before, something that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t misplayed. That thinking is a trap, I heard Tipfin say. Focus on the now.

It was a challenge, but I did just that, watching my opponent summon another Order source, giving him four available in total. He devoted one, and a card vanished from his hand. It formed into a rock in the air in front of him, and he grabbed it before it fell, much like I had with my Helmet.

The card was an amazing fit for his deck, and I wished I possessed something similar that worked on any summon type. I knew of one such Order card from my studies, Horn of Recruitment, but I had yet to find one for sale at a price I could afford. The artisan threw the stone to the ground, breaking it, which only a moment later gained him a new card in hand. The speed with which he had chosen made it clear that this was a sequence of plays he was well familiar with, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he had picked, having his whole Mind Home to choose from.

I didn’t have to wait to find out. He devoted another of his sources, and focused one, and a Relic appeared around his waist.

While the last card had been good, this one I found rather terrifying. The amount of source someone could get from it bordered on absurd. True, it would all be Any, but unless I missed my guess, that was all his deck used.

The artisan devoted his final Order source, and smiling at me, he let one more card fly free from his hand.

“Throice uses his Refractory Belt to turn his devoted source into four, enough to summon a three cost Relic,” the announcer said, like she was reading from a rather dull book.

In comparison, my experience was a great deal more fraught as I watched a giant body of metal take form beside the artisan, towering over him. It was the Colossal I had seen before, or at least a part of it. It came in pieces? Six of them according to the card, which meant I had some time until the behemoth took the field. In the interim, however, the body part gave his Golems a buff, and I could only imagine that the other five pieces would have similar but varying effects – none of which I wished to discover.

The Metal Golem took a step forward, perhaps emboldened by its newfound Armor, and I hoped fervently that it would attack. Even with a point of damage reduced, my Master Assassin would make short work of it with his Fast Attack and Venom.

Throice didn’t have it charge though, and then I felt my cards ready to be drawn. I grabbed for two source, no summons. It wasn’t the play I wished to make, but I didn’t want to risk drawing Air when I needed an Order up for my Master Assassin’s ability. The first source that coalesced into my hand was Air, making me very glad of my decision to draw more than one source. The second was Order, and I cast it.

Next, I devoted both of the stormclouds hovering above me, the four Air letting me play one of the two Carrion Condors in my hand.

My opponent had no source available to stop me, so I finally sent the Master Assassin in, using his Hunt ability to go straight at the Metal Golem. The Rare Soul chose not to run like the regular Assassin that had come before him, instead flipping through the air. Parts of his long black cloak were ribbons and they trailed after him like streamers, accentuating his acrobatic movement. The crowds loved the display, whooping with excitement each time he performed another skillful leap or cartwheel.

The Master Assassin was upside down in the air when he threw two daggers, his Fast Attack letting him strike before other Souls. The first pinged off the Golem but the second buried in its forehead, instantly dissolving its face.

“The Armor from the Colossal's Torso stops one point of damage to the Metal Golem,” the announcer informed the crowds, “but the other goes through, and yet again, Venom sees the job done.”

Without any urging from me, my freshly summoned Carrion Condor swooped over, ripping a chunk of metal off the Golem and guzzling down the black fluid that came with it eagerly. The impromptu feast lasted only another moment before the Metal Golem broke into shards, leaving behind no carcass, just a few bits of glittering light.

“The Carrion Condor gains plus one attack from the exchange.”

It felt nice to be the duelist earning combat buffs, and my Condor looked pleased as well, its plumage more puffed up than before.

The combat didn’t only benefit me though, as I saw my opponent draw a card from the Metal Golem’s Dying Breath ability. That Relic Soul was good, very good, but I felt I had managed to shift the match back in my favor: my Carrion Condor was free to block, and I had two Order source available to me if the artisan tried to target my Master Assassin.

That sense of confidence lessened somewhat when my opponent played another source and devoted two of them, gaining 8 through the Refractory Belt. A metal box appeared in his hand, which he tucked into his Belt.

Next he summoned a hammer – not wicked like the urchin’s had been, but utilitarian.

He swung the hammer around, putting its stone head to the platform, and then he knelt over it, touching his forehead to the end of its haft.

“Throice devotes his Crafting Hammer to recover one of his destroyed cards.”

“The Hulking Golem!” many in the crowd cried, while others shouted for the Lodestone. “Get the Colossal! Get the Colossal!” they repeated. Strategically, I agreed with the second group but at the same time, hoped the artisan chose not to.

A new card formed in his hand, and was cast just as quickly. The Metal Golem my Master Assassin had just eliminated reappeared on the field.

I grimaced. A blocker and a way to cycle his deck. The card probably was the best choice.

Despite my agitation, I didn’t miss my mind relaxing, and I drew two summon cards out of it this time, gaining Scalemail and Execution, neither of which I particularly wanted.

Thankfully, I didn’t need my new cards for a strong turn. I played the Air source I still had in my hand, then devoted it and one of my refreshed Order to play another Carrion Condor.

That done, I sent the Master Assassin after the returned Metal Golem and my buffed Carrion Condor at my opponent, keeping my newest Condor in reserve. I knew the artisan would likely use the Flashbomb on one of them, and he did, lobbing the box at the Master Assassin, where it exploded in a flash as bright as the Sun King’s morning ritual. I shielded my eyes, seeing my master Master Assassin stumble back and hearing him mutter a curse, sharp as the blades he wielded.

“The Carrion Condor strikes Throice for three damage.”

He hadn’t blocked it? I wondered, blinking the brightness out of my eyes. And then I realized: he couldn’t block it, not if all he was using was neutral Relics. Blocking from the hand required the card used to have a specific source cost; cards with only Any-source costs were useless. I stood there slack jawed at the revelation. His cards had great synergy, but their nature made him vulnerable, very vulnerable. The deck was probably meant to be a statement, to show the strength of the artisans and why they deserved a House. What it represented to me though was a gaping hole in his defense that could just be my key at winning.

Not that my opponent showed any signs of letting that happen, four of his Order source balls drooping heavily in the air.

“Throice devotes all of his available sources and, channeling them through the Refractory Belt, gains sixteen source for use,” the announcer somehow managed to say calmly.

The crowd went insane, and my eyes widened with them. The multitude of gems on the belt were glowing white hot, and a nimbus of energy began to creep both up and down my opponent’s body. I had never channeled that much source before and couldn’t imagine what it would feel like.

Giant body parts started appearing all around, one after the next, turning the platform into a forest of gargantuan metal limbs leaning at odd angles.

The artisan gestured, and the eyes of the Head glowed cold blue, bringing a fresh card into my opponent’s hand. It didn’t stay there long, another massive body part appearing on the field.

“After focusing the Head of the Colossal Golem to draw a card from his deck, Throice uses three of his remaining four source to summon the last piece of the Colossal Golem.”

My opponent then did precisely what it seemed like he was going to: he sacrificed them all. The six body parts vanished in unison, each creating the usual shards when a card was destroyed. However, the size of each of them turned the shard explosion into a veritable whirlwind of card parts, the shards glowing with an intensity they didn’t usually possess, whipping upward, as high as the dome, and then they vanished. When they disappeared, standing in their place was none other than the Colossal Golem, in all its terrible glory.

I stared up at the behemoth, my neck craning so I could look up that high. The Soul Relic was bigger than anything had a right to be, and much more intimidating to face head on than it had been to see from afar. It was not only an absurdly powerful attacker but an incredible blocker. With Tall it could defend against my Flyers, and Wide would let the Colossal block two of my souls simultaneously – so, both of my Condors. With his Metal Golem to stop my Master Assassin, my opponent had managed to put up a wall of blockers that could halt what I had on the field.

But that didn’t matter.

I slid my thumb over to Penitence. I had two Order source available to draw on – the ones I had kept available to protect my Master Assassin – and even more in another moment. As soon as my Master Assassin and my bigger Carrion Condor were ready to attack again I’d –

“Charge,” the artisan bellowed, and his Souls obeyed without question: his Metal Golem ran forward on its silver legs while the Colossal moved considerably slower, yet managed to cover the intervening distance faster by virtue of its size, simply leaning forward to come within striking range.

I didn’t understand. Why is he risking an attack? Does he know what cards I play?

With a mental command, I sent my one ready Carrion Condor to intercept the Metal Golem, leaving me to fend off the Colossal and its arm the size of a tower raised above me.

It was sooner than expected, but I used my two available Order source to cast Penitence on the Colossal. The Relic Soul might have Resistance, but Penitence didn’t do damage.

The Colossal didn’t pause in its movements, and for a heartstopping moment I was convinced that the spell had somehow, impossibly failed and I was about to be crushed. But then one of the Colossal’s tree trunk legs went out from under it, the knee hitting the platform with an incredibly loud clang. Both its arms followed after, its palms colliding the wood to either side of me, rattling up my legs. The Colossal’s huge head hung above mine now, casting me in shadow, looking like it was paying me fealty. With effort, I ripped my eyes away from the monstrosity, not even bothering to draw or use my newly refreshed sources.

Now was my chance.

I sent my Master Assassin and both Condors rushing toward my opponent, who had no blockers remaining since one of my Condors had already dispatched the Metal Golem. I could just see the artisan through a gap in the Colossal’s bent leg as my Souls converged on him. Together they were attacking for 9 damage, mostly because of the buffed Carrions, and my opponent only had a single card left circling him in defense. He had drawn too much with his Metal Golems, Lodestone, and Colossal Head, depleting his deck.

Since he couldn’t use his neutral cards in hand to protect himself, the winning blow was a foregone conclusion, but it was still a joy to see my Souls connect with him, knocking him off his feet, and hear the announcer call out, “Victor, Basil of Hintal.”

I didn’t think I would ever grow tired of hearing those words or the sudden roar of the crowd cheering my win. I joined their cries with a triumphant shout of my own, punching my fist into the air, uncaring of whether or not it was dignified of me to be expressing myself so brazenly.

A silver card shot away from my defeated opponent, who was managing to hold himself upright on the ground, looking much like his Colossal but at a fraction of the size. The flying card slowed as it came to float in front of me.

“Praise be to the duelists for their efforts,” the announcer said, her cool voice finally gaining some warmth, “the audience for observing, and to the Twins for all time.”

“For all time,” I echoed, plucking the Relic out of the air. Lifting my left arm, the laced sleeve I wore fell back to reveal a small leather case I had strapped to my wrist. The card holder was currently empty, but I had used it often over the past few years, when my Mind Home hadn’t been able to accept a full twenty cards. The pouch portion of the holder, which was boxy in shape, faced inward, and I clicked the metal snap of its lid open, slipping the Relic inside.

That was when Dueling Dome came down, its magic dismissing the remaining summons on the field. I stood near the center of the sparkling shower the collapsing spell created, feeling the heights of a winner’s high, just as strong as any source, running through me. I was in its intoxicating grip for more than a few moments until I saw my opponent heading my way.

Unlike the last duelist I had faced – which was generous of me to even call him – the artisan boy approached me with his hand held forward. Not wanting to dishonor the offer, I met him partway and shook his hand.

“Well played, Basil of Hintal,” he said.

“And the same to you, Throice the Artisan.”

His skin was rough against mine, and I quickly found myself wishing for the exchange to end. The Ordered part of me wasn’t used to touching people I didn’t already know, but the Air in me relaxed those thoughts, urging me to free myself of such restrictions. I normally didn’t feel my sources this way, but after having poured so much of them through my body during the match, some of their sensibilities were clearly lingering on.

Blessedly, he let go, looking at me a bit oddly then, and I couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. “You could have just used your Soulforged Helmet to stop that last attack.”

“My…” I reached up, as if I might touch the Relic I now remembered having summoned, but it was gone, like all the other cards.

I couldn’t believe it. I had completely forgotten I had been wearing the Helmet.

“I already knew the match was over at that point,” Throice went on, “but I wanted those watching to see the Colossal in action. My family has been working on it for the better part of two decades, so it deserves as much time in the sun as possible.”

He gave me that look again, and this time I was able to place it: he thought I’d been showing off, making his best card kneel like that. He perhaps even thought I had done it to rebut his call for a Ninth House. That would be poor form indeed, and I didn’t want him to believe that. The trouble was that I didn’t want him to think that he had just lost to a fool either.

“I was worried that it wouldn’t work,” I said, “what with how strong your Colossal was. 12 attack? I’ve never seen the like. Focusing it with Penitence seemed the safer choice.”

He frowned at me, as if I’d just managed an even greater sin. “The words of the Twins are absolute.”

“True,” I said, “true.” Fate and Fortune penned every card; they didn’t make mistakes. That’s what we were for, and especially me this day it seemed. I didn’t say anything else, unsure how to get myself out of this embarrassing situation.

“The card you won from me,” he said, pausing meaningfully.

“Yes…” I asked, my back straighter than it had been in any other point in our conversation. I might be embarrassed, but I wasn’t about to give up another ante win today.

“It’s only an Uncommon, but it’s quite challenging to make. Would you be amenable to a trade?”

Fortune was kind. Now Throice had made a mistake, letting me know that he valued the card for more than it appeared to be worth.

“Possibly,” I allowed. “I’ll need some time with the card first, to consider its usefulness in my own deck. I would then need to know what you have available for trade in order to make an informed decision.”

He looked like he wanted to argue the idea that I could find any use for the card, but instead he said, “My family has a shop in the west corner of the Grand Hall, outside the inner ring of eateries.”

His speech before our duel made a great deal more sense to me now. He wasn’t just rallying support for his family’s future plans but customers for the present.

“Good to know,” I replied. “I’ll be sure to visit it.”

“Before the next round, if you please,” he said.

So, he wanted the card for his last match of the day? That being the case would only increase the value of the trade in my favor. I tried not to smile, but a narrowing of his eyes told me that some of my good cheer had snuck out.

“Of course,” I said, doing my best to shift my smile into something that looked more innocent. “I’ve been told that they ring three bells to signal the end of lunch, after which there is a fifteen minute grace period before the next match begins. I’ll come see you then.”

“If that is your earliest available opportunity,” he said, his words coming out much stiffer than before, and he had good cause. Shortening the window of our trade wouldn’t give me as much time to examine what his family had available, but it would make him considerably more likely to agree to whatever exchange I offered.

“I look forward to it,” I said, giving him a nod and then turning away before he could try and alter our arrangement.

Walking off the stage, I was feeling a high of a different sort when I saw Warrick, and to my surprise Esmi, waiting for me at the edge of the platform. Warrick seemed happy for me but also on edge, and a glance at my fiancee easily explained why: her face was a thundercloud, and when our eyes locked I knew with uncanny certainty that I was the cause of that storm.