Mounted on Pidgeot's back, Azrael followed the GPS coordinates Alice had provided, the cold January wind whipping past him as they soared through Pixar's gray winter sky. Despite the harsh weather that should have made him shiver, Pride's symbiotic presence kept him perfectly insulated from the biting cold, one of many conveniences he'd come to appreciate about his alien companion.
The navigation system led him to an upscale neighborhood on the outskirts of Pixar University, where mansions dotted the manicured grounds like monuments to academic success. As his destination came into view, Azrael couldn't suppress a low whistle of admiration.
"Now that's what I call Professor money," he muttered, taking in the sprawling mansion that dominated several acres of meticulously manicured grounds.
The estate resembled something out of a period drama, classical architecture with modern amenities, surrounded by gardens that probably cost more to maintain than most people's annual salaries. Stone pathways meandered among carefully trimmed topiaries, while ornate fountains lent an air of old-world elegance that spoke of both wealth and refined taste.
After directing Pidgeot to land in a discreet location nearby, Azrael approached the main entrance on foot. The heavy wooden doors were adorned with brass fittings that gleamed despite the overcast sky, while security cameras discreetly monitored his approach from multiple angles.
He pressed the doorbell and waited, noting the quality of craftsmanship in every visible detail. Even the bell rang with perfect musical tones that suggested custom installation rather than mass production.
Several moments passed before the door swung open, revealing something that made Azrael blink in surprise.
A yellow-turbaned warrior stood in the doorway, his primitive armor somehow managing to look dignified despite the floral apron tied around his waist. The ancient Chinese soldier's weathered features remained stoically expressionless as he gazed at him with hollowed eye sockets that nonetheless conveyed intelligence.
"Young master," the warrior intoned with a voice like grinding stone, "the lady has been expecting your arrival."
Azrael's analytical mind immediately kicked into gear as he followed the undead servant through the entrance hall. Definitely not a standard biological card, he concluded, noting the creature's seamless integration into the domestic activities.
The interior of the mansion reinforced his impression of understated luxury. Hardwood floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers, while oil paintings in gilded frames adorned walls lined with overstuffed bookshelves. The aesthetic balanced traditional scholarly atmosphere with modern comforts, exactly what he'd expect from the private residence of a Diamond-level professor.
As they walked deeper into the estate, Azrael spotted more Yellow Turban Warriors engaged in various household tasks. One polished an antique suit of armor with meticulous care, while another tended to indoor plants with surprising gentleness for an undead creature. Through tall windows he could see more warriors working in the gardens, trimming trees, raking leaves, and maintaining the grounds with military precision.
Either she runs the most unusual household staff in the Empire, or there's something fascinating about her card skills, Azrael mused, filing the observation away for future consideration.
The warrior guide led him through several corridors lined with academic awards, framed research papers, and photographs documenting what appeared to be a distinguished career in both education and field research. Plaques from various universities competed for wall space with certificates of appreciation from government agencies and military organizations.
Finally, they stopped before an ornate oak door, carved with scholarly motifs, quills, books, and geometric patterns that suggested both artistic sensibility and mathematical precision.
"The lady awaits within," the warrior announced with formal courtesy. "Please enter at your leisure."
Azrael nodded his thanks and pushed open the heavy door, stepping into what was clearly the main study of the manor.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating a room that was the perfect embodiment of scholarly luxury. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves held thousands of volumes on subjects ranging from advanced mathematics to ancient history. A massive desk dominated the center of the room, its surface covered with research materials, brewing apparatus, and what appeared to be alchemical instruments of considerable complexity.
But what immediately caught his attention was the young woman sitting in a leather reading chair near the window, engrossed in an ancient looking tome.
Alice possessed the kind of understated beauty that became more striking the longer one watched her. Her dark hair was pulled back in a practical style that set off her intelligent eyes and delicate features. She wore a cream-colored turtleneck that suggested both comfort and sophistication, while her posture conveyed the unconscious confidence of someone accustomed to being the smartest person in the room.
The sunlight caught the subtle curves beneath her sweater, and Azrael found himself momentarily distracted before forcing his attention back to more appropriate matters. Focus, he reminded himself sternly. This is Master Lucian's senior student, not some romantic opportunity.
He cleared his throat quietly, then waited for confirmation. And waited. And waited, as the silence stretched uncomfortably long.
Alice remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the same page with unwavering concentration. The only sounds in the study were the gentle ticking of an antique clock and the distant murmur of Yellow Turban Warriors going about their business elsewhere in the manor.
After what seemed like an eternity, Azrael noticed something odd; she hadn't turned a page in several minutes, though she seemed to be reading with intense concentration.
Is she actually reading, or...? A suspicion began to form in his mind.
"Elder Sister?" he ventured, his voice barely above a whisper.
The effect was immediate. Alice jumped slightly, her head snapping up as if she'd forgotten anyone else was there. She carefully closed the book and placed it on a nearby end table before looking at him with an unreadable expression.
"Mm," she replied, the sound so soft that even Pride's enhanced hearing could barely detect it.
Azrael felt his eyebrows rise involuntarily. He'd met shy people before, but this level of social reticence was almost comical in someone who supposedly taught university classes.
"Senior Sister," he said gently, "you wouldn't happen to suffer from social anxiety, would you?"
A barely perceptible nod confirmed his suspicion, and suddenly everything about the estate made perfect sense. The Yellow Turban Warriors weren't just convenient household servants, they were a complete solution for avoiding human interaction while maintaining a household.
'Brilliant, actually,' he admitted to himself. Why bother with the unpredictability of human servants when you can create perfectly obedient supernatural alternatives?
But this revelation raised an obvious question that his curiosity couldn't ignore.
"How exactly do you manage to teach university courses?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "I mean, it usually involves a lot of human interaction."
For the first time since his arrival, Alice's expression showed something approaching animation. Her voice remained whisper-quiet, but carried a note of subtle pride.
"Hands-on demonstrations," she explained with minimal words. "Minimal verbal instruction required."
She paused, then added with what might have been dry humor, "Diamond-level credentials tend to discourage questioning."
Azrael couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer audacity of that approach. 'I don't need to explain anything, because I'm powerful enough that you should just accept whatever I show you.' There was something refreshingly honest about such straightforward academic intimidation.
"Well, that's certainly one way to handle classroom management," he admitted amusedly. "Master Lucian sent me here because I need to exchange some materials. He said you could help arrange it?"
"Group invitation," Alice replied succinctly, already reaching for her phone with practiced efficiency.
The QR code she displayed led him to a private chat group called "AAA Pixar Material Exchange". The membership list was surprisingly extensive, with dozens of names he didn't recognize, suggesting a thriving underground economy in supernatural components.
[Alice: New Member Introduction. Junior student under Master Lucian. Please extend appropriate courtesy.]
[Azrael: Greetings, all. I am Azrael. I look forward to mutually beneficial transactions.]
[Azrael: Looking for sword-related materials with life/death attributes. Silver level quality. I have [Netherworld Spring Water] (gold) and [Five-Flavored Bowl] (gold) available for trade.]
The response was immediate and overwhelming.
[AAA Material Wholesale Mr. Wolfgang: DM me]
[Cosmic Forge Andre: I'm Interested in your bowl component]
[Midnight Trader Tate: I have death-oriented blade materials]
[Professor Tristan: I'm willing to discuss academic research applications]
"Popular materials," Alice remarked with what might have been approval.
Azrael focused on the direct message from Mr. Wolfgang, who had responded the fastest and seemed the most promising.
[Mr. Wolfgang: Silver [Life-Cutting Blade] (Gold), Silver [Ancient Sword Saint] (Gold). Both available immediately].
The attached images showed components that radiated appropriate spiritual energy, exactly what he needed for his intended creation. The Life-Cutting Blade possessed the metallic sheen of master craftsmanship, while the material of the Ancient Sword Saint seemed to contain echoes of legendary skill and combat experience.
[Azrael: Acceptable terms. Location for personal exchange?]
[Mr. Wolfgang: University District, Warehouse Complex 7. Two hours acceptable?]
[Azrael: Confirmed].
"Efficient," Alice commented approvingly as he concluded the negotiation.
"Your network makes this remarkably simple," Azrael replied with genuine gratitude. "On the public trading sites, this would have taken weeks of searching and verification."
Rather than respond verbally, Alice simply generated another QR code on her phone screen.
This invitation led to a much smaller group, only six members in total, including himself. The chat name was simply "Master's Students," and the list of members made his pulse quicken with recognition.
Master Lucian was indeed present, along with four other names he didn't recognize. But the implications were staggering; these were his fellow students, the inner circle of one of the most respected master-level Lore Cardians in the Empire.
[Azrael: I am honored to join this distinguished group. I am Azrael, Master Lucian's newest apprentice.]
[Alice: Welcome party. (Flower emoji)]
The group remained silent after that, which didn't surprise him. Diamond-level Lore Cardians didn't exactly keep typical social schedules; they were probably engaged in secret research, defending territorial borders, or other duties that came with their extraordinary abilities.
"Thank you, Senior Sister," Azrael said earnestly, pocketing his phone. "This access is invaluable."
Alice nodded silently, returning her attention to the leather-bound tome she'd been reading upon his arrival.
Understanding the dismissal, Azrael bowed respectfully. "I will take care of the material exchange now. Please don't hesitate to contact me if you need anything."
She acknowledged his departure with another subtle nod, and he quietly left the study.
As he walked back through the corridors of the mansion, Azrael reflected on the encounter with growing appreciation. Alice might be socially awkward, but her support network was extraordinary. The material exchange alone could save him months of searching for suitable components, while access to Master Lucian's inner circle opened up possibilities he had only begun to contemplate.
'Every powerful figure needs reliable connections,' he mused as a Yellow Turban Warrior courteously escorted him to the main entrance. 'And apparently, Master Lucian's disciples have made networking an art form.'
The warrior held the door open with military precision, his hollow gaze somehow conveying both respect and warning, a reminder that the peaceful facade of this household concealed formidable defensive capabilities.
Outside, the winter air felt sharp against his skin as Pride adjusted to maintain his body temperature. Azrael summoned Pidgeot and prepared for the journey to Warehouse Complex 7, his mind racing with the possibilities his new materials would unlock.
Soon, he would have the components necessary to create a silver-tier card worthy of his advancement. More importantly, he'd gained access to resources that would accelerate his development far beyond what individual effort could achieve.
The symbiotic relationship between power and connection was becoming increasingly clear. Master Lucian's backing provided opportunities that no amount of personal talent could create, while his growing reputation opened doors that had previously been invisible.
As Pidgeot carried him to his next appointment, Azrael allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. His careful cultivation of relationships was bearing fruit in ways he could scarcely have imagined.
The foundation for his future dominance was solidifying with each passing day.