Date: Unspecified
Ti: Unspecified
Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Three Mischief Encampnt, Mystic Dinsion
The Field Marshal, her starry mystic eyes sharp and unblinking, caught the sudden surge of faith within the Emissary of Light, noticing the drastic spike in his energy signature. It was so overwhelming that the space around him began to tremble, releasing a sharp hum despite being infused with celestial force. She imdiately understood that this was what her niece and young lord had warned her about.
Without hesitation, she intensified her attacks, attempting to reduce him to ash using the explosion traps scattered across the mystic dinsion before he could retaliate. However, she had gravely underestimated the power of faith ignited by the fear of death.
Before she could react, chaos descended.
Multiple gate dungeons burst open within the mystic dinsion, ranging from E-rank to Unranked. In the very next mont, they all underwent simultaneous dungeon breaks, and monsters of every rank—from E-rank to Unranked—began pouring into the mystic dinsion.
The Field Marshal froze for a fraction of a second, shock flashing across her face as she struggled to believe what she was seeing. But she recovered just as quickly.
With a sharp shift in control, she split the star shower into two streams, one converging on the Emissary of Light, the other redirecting toward the monsters flooding the mystic dinsion.
The monsters alone, even the Unranked ones, were not a serious threat to her. After all, in the power system of the card world, she herself was classified as Unranked. But their numbers, combined with the instability of the domain, made them a problem she could not ignore.
She moved to act fully, to reassert control. But she was too late. The mystic dinsion began to fracture. Space itself warped and split, thin cracks spreading like veins before tearing open completely. Through those ruptures, the space of the card world bled in, eroding the integrity of her domain.
The starry sky ford by her mystic eyes shattered. The backlash struck her instantly. One of her mystic eyes collapsed under the strain, and she lost it temporarily. Blood welled up and ran down her cheek in a slow, vivid tear.
For the first ti since the battle began, her control slipped. The Emissary of Light didn’t hesitate, he seized the opening and fled, slipping through the fractures and into the card world beyond.
The Field Marshal tried to intercept, but it was already out of her hands. The spaceti within the mystic dinsion no longer responded to her will. It twisted, collapsed, and unraveled, each passing mont widening the cracks she could no longer control. She could only watch as her battlefield fell apart and her target escaped through it.
She couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Why summon gate dungeons and unleash monsters, only to let them be destroyed within her mystic domain with spaceti collapse? The move felt wasteful, almost irrational.
What she didn’t realize was that he had never intended to use them as weapons.
Under her relentless starfall strikes and continuous explosions, the Emissary of Light never had the chance to mount a direct counterattack. The dungeons, the monsters, the chaos, it was all a byproduct of the unstable surge of faith he had triggered in desperation, not a calculated assault. He hadn’t planned it.
In desperation, he simply willed for every possible apocalyptic event that could befall the mystic dinsion to descend upon it, pouring in far more faith than necessary. There was no precision, no restraint, just a reckless release driven by the instinct to survive.
In that mont, he held on to a single belief: if the mystic dinsion was destroyed, he would not only survive, but also stand a real chance of winning.
The Field Marshal quickly followed the Emissary of Light out of the collapsing dinsion, fearing he might regroup with the Supre Leader and turn the tide against her young lord.
"Aaaah!"
The mont he erged from the collapsing mystic dinsion, the Emissary of Light let out a raw, unrestrained cry, venting the pressure that had built inside him. The mory of what had just transpired surged back, how close the Field Marshal had co to ending him. His voice broke as another cry tore free.
This was only the second ti in his life he had truly felt the fear of death.
The first ti had been long ago, when his abusive father beat him half to death as he tried to intervene while his mother was being beaten. He wasn’t an orphan, as many believed. His father and mother had always been there, and the violence had been routine. But that day, he had found the courage to step in and try to stop him.
That day everything changed.
All he managed was to draw the brutality onto himself, beaten until he was on the brink of death. The only reason he survived was because his mother threw herself over him, shielding him from his father’s relentless kicks with her own body.
It should have been him. That final blow should have taken his life. Instead, his mother died protecting him.
Even in death, her eyes were wet, her cheeks marked with tear stains. Yet those eyes held no fear of death, only an unshaken resolve, a quiet faith that she would protect her child, no matter the cost.
That day, he found his first fated ingredient. Those tears, his mother’s tears, beca the spark that set him on the path to becoming the Emissary of Light, an existence both feared and revered.
Since that day, he had never known defeat, nor suffered a beating like the one he endured today at the hands of the Field Marshal, and earlier, at the hands of her young lord. The thought churned inside him, and he couldn’t help but let out another loud cry of frustration until a sharp voice cut in, "Stop barking like a little bitch in heat. If I have to hear any more of this, my ears will start to bleed."
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