Jarak could feel his frustration intensify as he turned over the new information in his mind. The ingredients laid before him seemed to mock him with their endless potential and countless possible outcomes, yet none of them were the key he needed. Chaos was not playing by the rules. He knew that much, and Kale's words—though he would never admit it—had struck a nerve. Rolling with the punches wasn't enough when you faced something that bent reality itself. He needed a different approach, something that would outlast the chaos fragment's relentless distortion.
He sifted through the cards again, fingers tracing their faintly glowing edges as his thoughts raced. His deck, while powerful, was fundamentally limited in its current state. He wasn't dealing with a normal foe. This was chaos, a force that corrupted and twisted the world at its most basic level. And if Jarak was going to survive, he needed to be ready for that—he needed more than just a strategy; he needed insurance. He had to find a way to recover from anything the chaos could throw at him.
"Kale," he muttered under his breath, his focus split between the cards in his hand and the battle that loomed ahead. "You're not wrong about chaos. But if you think being unprepared is a strategy, you're more foolish than I thought."
Kale, lounging in his usual infuriatingly relaxed way, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He knew better than to interrupt Jarak when he was in the middle of a planning frenzy.
Jarak pulled out his binder and quickly found the card he was looking for—a rare silver-bordered one. The moment he infused it with mana, it responded, glowing as the magical ingredients spread across the table: a blue feather from a low-level emberwing, a massive saber-tooth claw, a golden turtle shell, and a tiny snow globe filled with swirling frost. The randomness of the materials mirrored the chaotic thoughts in his mind—strategic and urgent.
This was more than just brute force. His first creation had to be the Phoenix Demon, a creature that could rise again and again, feeding on the chaotic forces of life and death and twisting them to his will.
He began with the emberwing's feather, channeling its fire-aligned mana into the mix. The phoenix was resilient, yes, but it wasn't enough. The phoenix alone was too fragile, too dependent on its cycle of death and rebirth. He needed to ensure that the resurrection wouldn't leave him vulnerable.
That's where the saber-tooth claw came in. It was predatory, instinct-driven, and filled with raw, unbridled survival instinct. It would lend the demon a ferocity that would allow it to tear through opponents in a frenzied, chaotic onslaught—one that could exploit the weakness in chaos itself.
The turtle shell added a defensive element, reinforcing the demon's ability to withstand attacks. Fire, savagery, and defense in balance, with one final touch. He glanced at the snow globe. The frost was important, more important than it seemed. Fire and ice, locked in a tense equilibrium, but it wasn't about opposition. The frost would temper the flame, not extinguish it, but control it—making it a force of creation rather than destruction. Let's move on to the reflective shield.
As Jarak gathered his ingredients for Voidbound Shard, he recalled a peculiar tale about one of the more unusual items he had come across—the Reflective Glass Shard.
It all began in the extravagant home of a renowned archmage known for his eccentricities and experimental magic. One fateful afternoon, a group of teenagers, looking for mischief, decided to play a game of catch inside the archmage's lavishly adorned study. Their laughter echoed through the halls until it was abruptly cut short by the shattering sound of glass—the archmage's enchanted window had met a regrettable fate.
When the archmage discovered the destruction, rather than losing his temper, he devised a clever solution. He instructed the teenagers to gather the shards of the broken window and sell them as magical artifacts. "Tell the buyers," he said, "that they hold the power to reflect one's true self! It's a window to your inner magic!"
However, the plan backfired. No one took the teens seriously; after all, how could mere shards of glass be anything other than that? Frustrated, the archmage decided to intervene. With a flick of his wand, he cast a spell over the shards, imbuing them with a glimmering illusion that made them appear to shimmer with magical energy.
"Now," he said with a smirk, "they will at least look like what they're worth!"
Despite the initial skepticism, the spell worked like a charm. As word spread that these glass shards could reveal hidden truths, curious buyers started flocking to the market, eager to catch a glimpse of their own magical potential through the enchanted reflections.
Of course, the truth about their origin remained a closely guarded secret among the teenagers and the archmage. And while Jarak had obtained one of those shards, he often chuckled at its history, imagining the bemused expressions of those who unknowingly bought a piece of broken glass as a "magical artifact."
Now, as he prepared to forge Voidbound Shard, Jarak appreciated the irony that something born from teenage folly could contribute to a spell designed to absorb and reflect the chaotic energies of battle. The Reflective Glass Shard was a testament to the unpredictable nature of magic, just like the duel that lay ahead.
As Jarak inspected the Reflective Glass Shard, he recalled the tale the archmage had told him. At the time, he had laughed, entertained by the idea of teenagers accidentally creating a magical artifact by breaking a window. It had been such a whimsical story, one that seemed to fit perfectly into the chaotic and unpredictable nature of magic. But now, standing on the edge of a confrontation with a fragment of chaos, the story no longer felt so innocent.
His gaze lingered on the shard, and a strange, creeping thought began to gnaw at the edges of his mind. What if the magician in the story wasn't just some eccentric archmage? What if… it had been Chaos?
Jarak's Soul Magician had always had a flair for the absurd, for weaving unpredictability into the fabric of reality, and for showing up in the most unexpected ways. And wasn't that exactly what the story had been? A seemingly random, chaotic event transformed into something far greater? The playful manipulation of perception, the clever misdirection—it all fit too well with Chaos's nature.
Jarak felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he considered the possibility. His Soul Magician had been quiet for a while now, lurking in the background as he crafted cards and prepared for the upcoming duel. But Chaos was never truly absent. It was always there, waiting in the shadows, manipulating things in ways that weren't always obvious.
He clenched the shard tighter, the glass reflecting a distorted image of his own face back at him. Had Chaos been pulling the strings this whole time? Planting the shard in his hands through a seemingly harmless story, only to reveal its true potential at this critical moment?
Jarak felt his frustration flare up again, this time mixed with a sense of unease. If Chaos was indeed behind this, what was the endgame? Was this all part of some greater plan, or was his Soul Magician simply acting out of its own twisted sense of humor? He had always trusted Chaos to help guide him through the unpredictable, to help him navigate the ever-shifting tides of battle. But this… this felt different. It felt personal.
His eyes narrowed. "Chaos, are you behind this?" he muttered, half-expecting an answer. But the soul magician didn't respond. Just silence.
That silence made him all the more suspicious. Chaos thrived on unpredictability, yes, but it also thrived on control—on manipulating events in ways that only became clear much later. Jarak realized that the glass shard might not just be another tool in his arsenal—it could be a test. A test to see how much control he truly had over the chaos in his life… or how much control Chaos had over him.
A low chuckle echoed in the back of his mind. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. Chaos was watching. Always watching.
Jarak exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He couldn't dwell on it now. He had work to do, and whether or not his Soul Magician was involved, he would use whatever tools he had at his disposal. If Chaos had a hand in this, so be it. He would turn the unpredictable into his strength.
"Fine," he muttered under his breath. "Let's see what kind of magic you helped me create, Chaos."
With that, he resumed his forging, pouring his mana into the Feather, now keenly aware that his Soul Magician's hand might be deeper in this than he first realized. Chaos always played the long game, but this time, Jarak was determined to play it better.
As he crafted the demon, Jarak felt a deep, steady hum in the air, something that made his skin crawl with anticipation. His hands moved faster, guided not only by his own thoughts but by something older, something familiar.
Chaos whispered in his ear, its voice low and amused. "You feel that, don't you? An old force stirring. One of the old categories has been released. Synchronized Lifeforms."
Jarak narrowed his eyes, his focus sharpening. "Synchronized Lifeforms?"
"Mmhm," Chaos purred, its voice reverberating with an eerie nostalgia. "A rare and ancient art. Few remember it. Fewer still can harness it. But you, Jarak, you might just be able to ride this wave. If you're quick."