“Hmph. You’re past sixty—how are *you* more fired up than I am?”

Simon calmly shuffled his hand.

“You’ve got the nerve to say that? Aren’t you just the same?”

Liszt chuckled, gesturing lightly toward Simon’s chest.

“Facing a demigod brings far more pressure than just viewing a card art… yet you’re calmer than ever.”

“It’s not just cardmaking—you’ve got the heart of a true Duelist too.”

Simon smiled easily. “Maybe. I *do* feel more relaxed during duels.”

He casually cut the deck, then suddenly pinched a card and thrust it overhead.

“Don’t blink. What comes next is a sight this world has never seen.”

“Behold the king’s awe! Witness the earth-shaking power!”

Could summoning words alone carry such presence?

Leaning against the wall, Sallya’s heart raced, swept up by the chant.

Though summoning phrases were personal preference, such bold words inevitably sparked wild imagination.

*The old me couldn’t draw out your full strength.*

*Now… show me your true trump card!*

“Summon! My soul! King of Inflatable Giants!”

[King of Inflatable Giants ★★★★★★★★★★ (10-star) Grade D]

[Dummy 10/10]

Amid breathless anticipation—*pop!*

A giant humanoid balloon adorned with a crude smiley face floated into the air.

“The King of Inflatable Giants costs half mana to summon. Deals no damage. Dies from any hit.”

Sallya froze—then fumed, claws practically out, ready to strangle him herself.

*What was I even expecting?!*

If the Envoy of Morowen was the strongest minion they’d seen… this was unquestionably the most useless.

At the critical moment, loyal Tidelys blocked the flustered blonde.

“The duel isn’t over, Miss Sallya! Stay calm!”

“You can strangle the shopkeeper *after* it ends!”

Even Liszt offered a wry smile.

“You plan to use *this* against my Envoy of Morowen? Besides matching star count—what’s the point?”

Simon flashed a knowing grin. “Didn’t you just answer yourself?”

Before Liszt processed it, Simon slapped down his second card.

“I play: Equivalent Exchange!”

[Equivalent Exchange ★★★★★ (5-star) Grade C]

“Effect: When both fields have minions with identical counts and star ratings—swap control!”

The mana saved by the balloon minion instantly proved vital.

In a flash, an invisible force seized both minions, hurling them toward opposite fields.

“Mine now!”

“And as a gift—I bestow this mighty minion upon you!”

Liszt: ?

*What?!*

While stunned, the balloon drifted before him.

Its arms swayed in the Envoy’s breeze—waving cheerfully at its new master.

*Hi! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ*

That silly smiley face ignited Liszt like a spark.

*Wait… where’s my demigod?!*

He glanced at Simon—arms crossed, inspecting his new minion with smug satisfaction.

Simon met his gaze with the unshakable nonchalance of someone who had nothing left to lose.

*Yeah, I’m awesome. Go ahead—shoot me.*

Sallya’s fists tightened.

“…So shameless.”

Tidelys fell silent, then suddenly called out:

“Shopkeeper! Using Mr. Liszt’s own card to bully him—you’re being utterly despicable!”

Simon stumbled.

*Oh, quoting me now, huh?*

He waved—a dismissive flick—and the Envoy of Morowen vanished.

“Alright, alright. Demo’s over. No need for the Envoy to crush you.”

Liszt: ¿

*You were gonna have my minion crush me?!*

He sighed, exasperated. “You little… Fine. I’ll let it slide—you showed me something new.”

With a wave, he dissolved the duel.

Continuing would’ve meant *Liszt* facing *Simon’s* test.

So much happened in seconds—the two girls below were still reeling.

But one thing was clear: Simon had passed.

…Just in a shamelessly clever way.

“That Equivalent Exchange effect is… unique. Still… use it sparingly.”

Liszt’s voice held quiet turmoil.

Even the composed elder had nearly punched Simon watching his prized creation switch sides.

This card inflicted deeper psychological wounds than any demigod’s entrance.

“Don’t worry. I likely won’t use it again.”

Without technical limits, Simon wouldn’t have printed such a clunky magic card.

Too inefficient.

Required matching counts *and* stars—and gifted a minion to the opponent.

A true tormentor leaves the opponent with *nothing*.

…

Scene shifted back to the shop.

After a few coffees, Liszt’s irritation had cooled.

Time to leave—but one question remained.

“With your skill, advancing beyond Grade C Cardmaker should be effortless. Why remain Grade D?”

Promotion required ten Grade C cards and one Grade B.

Logically, neither should challenge Simon.

“If I said I’m not ready to craft a Grade B card… would you believe me?”

Simon spread his hands with a wry smile.

He was stuck.

His mind held countless past-life designs—but recalled cards were either absurdly broken or utterly trash.

Finding one balanced *and* reproducible? Surprisingly hard.

“No ideas? Seek inspiration from materials.”

“Coincidentally, an auction begins soon in the Royal Capital. I’ll send two invites. Go take a look.”

…

“Grandfather—what’s special about this auction? Why give *him* invites?”

Seated across in the carriage, Sallya tilted her head.

Liszt tapped his cane, sighing.

“It’s not the auction. It’s the Academy.”

“After returning to the Royal Capital, I learned the Demonology Sect is scheming within the Academy.”

Sallya froze.

“The Demonology Sect? Aren’t they afraid of the dean?”

“He’s gone missing.”

“What?!” Her eyes widened.

The Academy’s dean—one of the kingdom’s strongest Duelists—who could make *him* vanish?

“Chaos reigns there now. Letting Simon lie low is wise.”

“Will he be safe?”

“Rest assured. I’ve arranged discreet protection.”

Liszt polished his monocle.

He reconsidered Simon joining the Cardmaker Guild.

Once, he’d hoped the Guild would nurture Simon.

Now? After the duel—he saw it clearly.

It wasn’t Simon who needed the Guild.

The Guild needed *Simon*.

To shake off its stagnation, a bold new voice was essential.

And Simon was the one.

For the Guild’s future—he *had* to protect him.

Yet worry lingered in Liszt’s eyes.

The threat wasn’t just the Demonology Sect…

But the Luminous Order it might summon.