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The air itself seemed to hold its breath as Artoria raised Caliburn skyward. Every person in the arena felt it—a pressure that went beyond the physical, something that pressed against their very souls and whispered of endings and beginnings.
Then she spoke the word that would haunt everyone's dreams:
"CALIBURN!"
The world exploded into gold.
Light erupted from the legendary sword with such intensity that it bypassed human vision entirely, burning itself directly into memory and consciousness. The sound—if it could be called sound—was the voice of creation itself, a harmonic that made ribcages vibrate and teeth ache.
Students threw themselves backward, some tumbling over benches in their desperate retreat from something their instincts screamed was death incarnate. Several Southeastern players actually fell to their knees, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of power that dwarfed anything in their experience.
"Jesus Christ!" someone screamed, but their voice was lost in the cosmic roar.
The gold-level barriers surrounding the arena—barriers designed to contain the strongest attacks silver-level cardmakers could produce—began shrieking in protest. Warning alarms blared as the containment system struggled against forces it was never meant to handle. Cracks of pure energy spider-webbed across the transparent walls.
Coach Pascal staggered backward, one hand clutched to his chest as if his heart might stop. His face had gone chalk white, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. "What... what the hell is that thing?" he whispered.
Every student—whether from Northgate or Southeastern—could only stare in stunned silence at the petite figure standing calmly in the center of devastation, her skirt and armor somehow untouched by the apocalyptic energies swirling around her.
Even the most confident among them felt the same primitive terror—the recognition that they were witnessing something beyond mortal comprehension, a glimpse of the power that legends spoke of in hushed whispers.
Coach Pascal's mouth hung open as his earlier confidence crumbled to dust. "Old Carter," he muttered, his voice barely audible, "you hid this one really damn well."
Even Coach Carter looked confused, blinking rapidly as he tried to process what he was seeing. He knew Russell had powerful cards, but he'd never imagined anything on this scale. If I'd known about this, he thought with growing excitement, I never would have let Lucian go first. We could have ended this in round one.
The Northgate team members wore expressions of shock mixed with wildly different emotions. A genuine smile spread across Lucian's face as he leaned forward against the barrier rail. "He really is Master Blake's student," he breathed. "Incredible."
Sonny just stared at Russell, his face cycling through disbelief, fresh waves of jealousy, and something that might have been fear. How is this fair? he thought bitterly. Some of us actually had to work for our power.
Jean silently pushed her black-rimmed glasses up her nose, her scientific mind trying to calculate the energy output required for what they'd just witnessed. The numbers didn't make sense.
Yuna caught Lucian's expression and quickly jumped on the bandwagon. "Yeah, thanks to Russell!" She clasped her hands together dramatically. "Otherwise we would have totally lost this battle."
At her words, Sonny's jaw clenched so tight his teeth ground together audibly.
On the field, Russell watched Artoria calmly, unaware of the chaos erupting in the stands. Caliburn had reached its absolute limit—every ounce of power the legendary sword could channel focused into one devastating attack.
As the golden beam struck downward, the thick storm clouds that had dominated the battlefield were instantly shredded apart like tissue paper. The Taoist's eyes went wide with panic. His hands flew through desperate gestures, summoning several lightning bolts that struck at Artoria from multiple angles.
But without the weather enhancement Lucian had originally provided, the attacks lacked their earlier devastating power. Unohana deflected them almost casually, her own magic more than sufficient to handle the weakened assault.
The golden beam appeared to descend slowly, but that was just a visual trick caused by its immense size. In reality, it struck the earth in heartbeats. Everything the light touched simply ceased to exist—not destroyed or vaporized, but erased on a conceptual level.
The terrifying golden torrent reached Luke's defensive position. As Artoria poured more power into the attack, the beam suddenly doubled in thickness. Under such overwhelming force, the supposedly impregnable tower shield lasted exactly three seconds before dissolving like smoke.
Then Luke's cards faced the unstoppable attack directly. The beam rushed past where they had been standing—they simply weren't there anymore. Nothing was there anymore.
The light slammed into the far barrier with the sound of reality breaking.
"Student Russell!" Coach Pascal's voice cracked with panic as he leaped to his feet. "Stop the attack! Stop it now!"
Coach Carter's face went pale as he frantically recalled Luke to the viewing platform. But they were both far too late. The barrier shattered like glass under a sledgehammer. The golden beam, now with no obstacles in its path, carved straight through the arena wall and kept going.
A deafening explosion echoed across Southeastern University's campus, rattling windows and shaking buildings for miles around.
"What the hell was that?!"
"I don't know—it came from the battle arena!"
Even though it was the weekend, dozens of students were scattered across campus. The sound sent them all running toward the source, only to stop dead when they arrived at what had once been their premier training facility.
"Did I take a wrong turn?"
"No, this is... this was the battlefield."
"Holy shit, who the hell destroyed our arena?!"
Half the structure had simply vanished, replaced by a perfectly straight canyon that extended beyond the range of vision. The edges glowed with residual energy that would probably linger for years.
Back in what remained of the viewing area, Coach Pascal's face had gone from pale to furious red. "Carter!" He grabbed the other man by the shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me your student could do this?!"
Coach Carter raised his hands defensively, looking genuinely helpless. "I swear I didn't know. If I'd known he could level buildings, don't you think I would have mentioned it?"
Pascal took a deep breath, then another, clearly fighting for control. "Fine. What's done is done." He gestured at the destruction surrounding them. "Just figure out how we're going to explain this to the administration."
"I can talk to the school," Carter offered quickly. "We should be able to get you some compensation—"
"We're not that petty," Pascal cut him off with a wave. "I already reported the match to our administration beforehand. You won't have to pay for repairs." He paused, then added grimly, "Though I'm definitely going to catch hell from the dean about this."
He turned to study Russell with new eyes, professional curiosity overriding his frustration. "But speaking of which—that card is King Arthur, right?"
Carter shrugged, looking as confused as Pascal felt. "Seems like it. We all heard her yell 'Caliburn.'" They both had basic knowledge of Western mythology despite it not being popular in the Daming Federation. Previous cultural exchanges with Britain had included demonstrations of their own King Arthur cards.
"But this is nothing like Britain's version," Pascal muttered. "Theirs was more of a tactical leader type. Good for commanding armies, not..." He gestured at the canyon where their arena used to be.
Students within earshot caught the conversation, their expressions shifting to a mix of awe and disbelief. No way, more than one thought. Is his King Arthur even legal?
Russell approached the two coaches, scratching his head with obvious guilt. "Coach Carter, Coach Pascal... I don't have to pay for this, do I?"
Carter tried to look stern but couldn't hide his excitement. This kind of destructive power could be their ace in the hole for nationals. "Don't worry," he said, clapping Russell on the shoulder. "The school will handle everything."
With half their venue destroyed, continuing the match was obviously impossible. Several Southeastern administrators were already arriving, demanding explanations and looking at Russell like he was a natural disaster that had somehow learned to walk upright.
Coach Carter positioned himself between Russell and the growing crowd of officials. "We'll head back now," he announced to his team. "I'll try to arrange another practice match with a different school." One with better barriers, he added silently.
Russell and the others nodded gratefully, climbing into Carter's mysterious van under the watchful eyes of every Southeastern student on campus. The ride back to Northgate passed in relative silence, everyone processing what had just happened in their own way.
Once they reached campus, Coach Carter disappeared into his office, probably to start making phone calls about damage control. Russell prepared to have his Shadowkhan take him home when Lucian's voice stopped him.
"Russell."
He turned around. "What's up?"
An apologetic expression crossed Lucian's face as he ran a hand through his hair. "Russell, I had no idea you were this strong. I owe you an apology for how I've been acting the past few days."
Russell blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected this level of humility from someone who'd seemed so confident in his leadership role. "It's fine," he said, waving dismissively. "I don't take that stuff personally."
How the tables turn, Russell thought with amusement. But since he's willing to back down, no point holding grudges. Besides, would an elephant care what an ant thinks?
"Anything else?" Russell asked.
Lucian smiled and shook his head. "Nope, you're good to go."
"See you later then." Russell nodded as several Shadowkhan emerged respectfully from nearby shadows, carrying his ornate chair. As he departed in his usual dramatic fashion, the other main members began dispersing as well.
Only Sonny remained behind, watching both Lucian and Russell with dark, calculating eyes.
Back at his apartment, Russell had a Shadowkhan prepare dinner while he settled in to plan his next card creation. His current silver-level materials included some seriously valuable pieces: [Star of Calamity] (Gold), [Demon Hunter] (Purple), [Two-Faced Idol] (Gold), [Ugly Demon] (Gold), and [Immortal Demon Fox] (Gold).
"Come to think of it," he remembered suddenly, "didn't Grant and his team say they'd transfer me points?" He pulled out his phone to check.
Balance: 3,020 points.
Russell's eyebrows shot up. "They actually did it. A thousand points each?" The amount wasn't trivial—enough for three purple-quality materials or one gold-tier component. Considering his solo mission had only netted 2,000 points, they'd essentially given him everything they'd earned from the joint expedition.
"This opens up way more options," he murmured, leaning back in his chair.
Looking at his current roster, he could see clear gaps in his strategy. Unohana's combat power would only surge after triggering her hidden ability, while Artoria was basically done after firing one shot of Caliburn. What he desperately needed was a card that could sustain prolonged combat.
Russell drummed his fingers on the table, staring at his materials spread across the surface. "What should I make?" he wondered aloud.
The [Demon Hunter] material had been sitting in his collection for a while. Combined with his more recent acquisitions of [Two-Faced Idol] and [Ugly Demon], he'd originally considered creating Sweet Mask from One Punch Man. But he'd ultimately rejected that idea—Sweet Mask was way too powerful, easily Dragon-level, which translated to Gold-tier in card terms. Even weakened, it felt like overkill.
Instead, his thoughts had turned to a different character from the same universe: Fubuki, the B-Class Rank 1 hero and sister of the infamous Tatsumaki. Her attack power might not be overwhelming, but she'd demonstrated the ability to withstand energy cannons from powerful monsters. Maximum defense with respectable offense—exactly what he needed for sustained combat.
Plus, Russell admitted to himself with a slight grin, if two potential cards are roughly equal in power, always go with the female option. Life's too short for boring cards.
Having made his decision, Russell opened the points exchange platform to search for suitable materials. It didn't take long to find what he needed:
Silver-level [Son of the Wind] (Gold), priced at 2,900 points.
Like her sister Tatsumaki, Fubuki possessed psychic powers focused on telekinetic wind control. "After I create her," Russell mused, "maybe she can help Artoria develop a knockoff version of Invisible Air." The potential synergy was one of several reasons he'd settled on this choice.
"But I still need one more material," he muttered, reviewing his requirements. After a moment's consideration, he selected the [Ugly Demon] (Gold) from his collection. "Time for another visit to Mr. Warren's network."
Russell had accumulated enough blue-quality materials to cover the handling fees, and he wasn't planning to seek out Warren personally this time. Any shop in the man's network should be able to complete a straightforward exchange.
After checking his map for the nearest affiliated store, Russell set out with his Shadowkhan escort. The shop was located in one of the city's more upscale districts, its discreet signage marking it as a high-end establishment for discerning clientele.
He handed the black gold card Warren had given him to the receptionist, watching her eyes widen as she processed the VIP credentials. Her gaze flicked to Russell's young face, clearly wondering which prominent family he represented.
"Right this way, young master," she said respectfully, leading him to the second floor. "These are the materials currently available for trade."
She handed him a tablet displaying the inventory, and Russell began scrolling through options. Soon enough, he found exactly what he needed: Silver-level [Telekineticist] (Gold).
The transaction proceeded smoothly. Russell handed over his materials and handling fees, received his new acquisition, and headed home under Shadowkhan escort.
Back in his apartment, Russell spread the three required materials across his workbench: [Demon Hunter], [Ugly Demon], and [Telekineticist]. Everything he needed to bring the Blizzard of Hell into this world.
He cracked his knuckles and settled into his crafting chair, determination gleaming in his eyes.
"Time to create Fubuki."
(End of this chapter)
PLZ THROW POWER STONES