Deckard left Keon in the lounge of the Gaming Parlor and logged out of the game.

  The capsule hissed open with a rush of cool air. He blinked against the room’s light, stretching his arms as the faint hum of the machine faded behind him.

  My first gig. Sweet.

  Keon’s offer had come out of nowhere, but it gave him something to look forward to—and if he won, it would bring in some much-needed money.

  He opened the document Keon had shared, adjusting his glasses as he began to scroll.

  Champion Monthly Tournament

  Format: Single Elimination. Eight Players. Best of 1. One Main Deck. Three Sideboard Cards.

  He paused, running the numbers in his head.

  Quarterfinals. Semifinals. Finals. Three matches total.

  Best of one meant no second chances. A bad opening hand and even a great player could get knocked out. Best-of-three formats were fairer—more skill, less luck. However, he didn’t have to pay an entry fee, so he had nothing to lose.

  Let’s see the doc Keon sent me.

  He tapped to open the full file—and blinked. Over a hundred pages.

  This is going to take a while.

  Good thing the tournament was still three days away. That left him plenty of time to read and plan.

  He headed to the kitchen and filled the kettle.

  A few minutes later, he was back at his desk, the document open on his monitor, a steaming cup of chamomile on one side and a plate of biscuits on the other. The glow of the screen reflected faintly on the rim of his glasses.

  At first, he skimmed just to get a sense of the structure.

  Woah. This is some pro-level stuff.

  He’d expected a casual list—names, deck types, maybe a few notes. Instead, Keon had gone full analyst mode. Each entry came with detailed notes: card lists, possible sideboard counters, even match recordings.

  It looked like something Deckard himself would’ve put together back in his Nova Cardia days.

  Keon really means business, huh?

  Of the eight players, five had full dossiers.

  The sixth was himself.

  The last two weren’t included—at least, not yet. Keon had mentioned some seats were still open. Maybe he’d send those notes later.

  He opened the first profile: PixieBrixie. She ran a Silence deck.

  Deckard raised an eyebrow spotting a few seagulls from Beginner Island on her deck list. Oh? She runs seagulls in her deck?

  Those cards came with nasty drawbacks—negative effects that had to be silenced to make them worth the cost. Her strategy revolved around turning those flaws into strengths, using more cards like [Sea Ghoul] to make it work.

  Then he opened the second profile and blinked.

  Viper?

  It was him—the player who’d beaten him with that snake deck.

  As Deckard read through Keon’s data, he sighed in reluctant respect. Viper was more serious than he’d thought. Despite only recently entering the Terralore scene, he was already ranked among the city’s top hundred and was clearly on his way to the Regional League. He favored combo decks—and he had more than just the one Deckard had played against.

  Deckard smiled. Looks like I’ll get my shot at revenge.

  The third player was called DarkDefect, and his deck list was made up entirely of darkness-affinity cards. The fourth was BatterMatter, who ran a lightning deck.

  It was rare to face cards from other regions. Most decks Deckard encountered were made up from the vicinity of Aquascape. He’d only seen a handful from other regions before—usually thanks to the Loot keyword.

  Curious, he scrolled through the list of recordings and smiled. Keon had even managed to find a match between DarkDefect and BatterMatter. The link was private—unlisted.

  Did Keon film this himself?

  Deckard pressed play, sipping his tea and leaning in.

  He adjusted his glasses, the reflection of the match flickering across the lenses.

  The video opened with a wide-angle shot of a dark, tiered room. Rows of raised seats circled a central platform lit by a muted spotlight. Scattered players sat apart, chatting quietly among themselves.

  Not exactly a grand finals crowd, Deckard noted.

  Before he could read into it too much, a man wearing black armor with a large sword on his back stepped onto one side of the arena. That had to be DarkDefect.

  On the opposite side, a player with spiky blond hair strode confidently onto the platform. “You’re going down, Deffie!” he shouted, voice loud and theatrical. He raised both hands, palms up, as if urging the nonexistent crowd to cheer him on.

  Show-off.

  The black-armored player said nothing. He simply checked his deck, gave a low grunt, and locked eyes with the board.

  The cards lifted from the players’ hands and vanished into the air. Each player was dealt four cards, hidden from the other by a holographic wall of light.

  The match had begun.

  A few seconds later, the wall shimmered, signaling the first reveal phase.

  Both players had made all their plays on the same lane: DarkDefect’s defensive lane.

  DarkDefect’s cards were revealed first.

  The arena floor rippled like bubbling tar. From it, a young cow emerged—its hide blistered, its spine split by clusters of pulsing mushrooms. Despite its sickly look, the creature moved with unsettling energy.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Fungal Calf ??

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Affinity: Darkness ??

  Cost: 1

  Power: 0

  Effect: Stark. Decay 1.

  Two unfamiliar keywords caught Deckard’s eye. He paused the video to check. Keon had been kind enough to include the explanations in his file:

  Stark – Triggers when your hand becomes empty.

  Decay – Applies Decay counters. When your opponent reaches 10, they lose.

  In Terralore, playing a card already required discarding another, so having an empty hand wasn’t uncommon. Cards that benefited from that could turn a weakness into an edge. But if one were to lean on Stark too much, they would end up top-decking the entire game, leaving themselves with no flexibility.

  Decay offered an alternate win condition. A player could ignore direct damage and focus entirely on defense while stacking Decay at every opportunity. Once the opponent reached ten counters, it was over.

  It was annoying. No matter how many defending creatures there were, Decay would bypass all of that.

  “Still… hitting ten Decay?” Deckard muttered. “That’s gotta take time.”

  He resumed the video.

  The calf let out a long, ragged moo. One of the mushrooms on its back deflated with a wet hiss, releasing a cloud of spores that drifted across the board. They landed on BatterMatter’s castle, where fungi began to spread along its walls. A glowing spore icon flickered above BatterMatter’s avatar, followed by a translucent +1 Decay marker.

  BatterMatter’s castle was still smoking with spores when one of DarkDefect’s trap cards lit up.

  Spore Explosion ??

  Rarity: Rare

  Affinity: Darkness ??

  Type: Trap

  Cost: 1

  Effect: When you apply Decay, apply 1(+1) additional Decay counter.

  Synergy: +1 Decay.

  A second wave of spores launched through the air. The fungi growing on BatterMatter’s wall spread.

  Weird. He triggered his own trap. Deckard was used to seeing traps counter enemy moves, not boost their own effects.

  BatterMatter didn’t even flinch, ignoring the glowing Decay icon with the number 3 now pulsing ominously next to it.

  Three counters… and it’s only the first turn. Maybe it’s faster to reach ten than I thought.

  BatterMatter’s card flipped next. Sparks burst from the board as arcs of lightning leapt across the lane. A glowing grid flickered to life beneath his zone.

  Static Field ??

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Affinity: Lightning ???

  Type: Skill

  Cost: 1

  Effect: This lane is now Positive.

  “Let’s supercharge this lane,” BatterMatter said, raising both arms like a showman urging a crowd to cheer—though the seats around him were still mostly empty.

  The colors on the board shifted. The offensive lane glowed red; the defending lane turned a cool blue—like the poles of a magnet.

  Deckard tilted his head. He checked the keyword.

  Polarity – Lanes can have positive (+) or negative (–) polarity. It’s cheaper to play into a lane with opposite polarity, and more expensive if the polarities match.

  Deckard crossed his arms, amused.

  Both players were claiming the same lane—but in completely different ways.

  The Fungal Calf twitched slightly, spores still lingering around its hooves. But no attacks were triggered. No points scored.

  Round one ended, and both players drew two cards.

  As the reveal phase began, the Black Warrior went first. He had set a third card into his defending lane.

  A low rumble rolled across the board, and the lane began to bubble again—the tar thickening before erupting upward. A hulking ox hauled itself free, its massive form completely carpeted in mushrooms of every shape and size. It was hard to tell where hide ended and fungus began. How was it even alive?

  Infected Ox ??

  Rarity: Epic

  Type: Creature

  Affinity: Darkness ??

  Cost: 3 (–2)

  Power: 0

  Effect: Costs 1 less for each time the opponent has been hit with Decay. Decay 2. +2 Power if played in the defending lane.

  Deckard’s eyes widened. An epic card—and a powerful one at that. BatterMatter had already been hit by Decay twice, dropping the ox’s cost by two—enough to cheat it out early and stack two more Decay counters in the process.

  The ox gave a low, rumbling snort, and more spores puffed from its nostrils. The Decay icon beside Spiky’s portrait ticked upward again—now at five. Almost halfway to defeat, and the match had barely started. The mushrooms spreading over the castle walls swelled and darkened, their caps pulsing faintly as if alive.

  For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Then a crack of thunder split the quiet. Flashes of light crackled above BatterMatter’s side of the board.

  Deckard’s eyes widened as three cards appeared on Spiky’s side—all in his offensive lane.

  Wait... three cards? Three?!

  That was the first time he’d seen a player do that in Terralore.

  The first card flipped with a crackle of static. A bolt of lightning struck the field, and when the flash cleared, a small bird hovered in its place.

  Thunder Robin ??

  Rarity: Common

  Affinity: Lightning ???

  Type: Creature

  Cost: 1 (–1)

  Power: 1

  Effect: Negative

  Blue sparks trailed behind its wings as it took to the air, screeching once before locking into a battle stance mid-hover.

  Another flash split the air a heartbeat later, and a second bird materialized beside it.

  Talon Volture ??

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Affinity: Lightning ???

  Type: Creature

  Cost: 1 (-1)

  Power: 0 (+1 for each other Negative creature here)

  Effect: Negative

  The vulture burst onto the board with a sharp cackle, leaving ripples of static in its wake. With [Thunder Robin] already present, its talons lit up—gaining +1 Power as it flapped next to its ally.

  The third strike hit the field, brighter than the rest.

  Vaulting Volture ??

  Rarity: Rare

  Affinity: Lightning ???

  Type: Creature

  Cost: 3 (-1)

  Power: 3

  Effect: Negative. Costs –1 if the Negative lane is empty.

  The ground trembled as a massive vulture slammed onto the lane in a crash of wings and lightning. Its arrival sent a pulse through the grid, static crawling across the field.

  Three birds in a single play. BatterMatter had brought his lane up to six points in one fell swoop—and had even played two of them for free.

  The resolution phase began. The three birds took flight and dove on the walls, lightning cracking against stone. A web of fractures spread across DarkDefect’s castle, thin lines glowing with residual charge before fading.

  Rot against power. Both terrifying in their own way.

  Neither player seemed rattled, though. Deckard could see it in their eyes—beneath the calm, both believed they could win.

  He still didn’t know who would, but one thing was certain: this tournament wouldn’t be easy.