Lucian walked through the winding streets of Rismond, his cloak pulled tight around him to ward off the slight chill in the air. The city center was bustling, but he moved with purpose, weaving through the crowds with ease. Mystic Decks was just ahead, the familiar shop standing between two towering buildings, its sign slightly faded but still recognizable.
His steps slowed as he reached the entrance. The scent of old parchment and ink greeted him as he stepped inside, the quiet hum of latent energy from the countless cards filling the air. Shelves lined the walls, neatly arranged by suit and rank. Some were locked behind glass cases, their glow faintly illuminating the dimly lit interior.
Lucian approached the counter, his fingers resting on the smooth wood as the shopkeeper looked up from his ledger. The man was old, thin, his keen eyes assessing Lucian with a calculating glance.
"Back again?" the shopkeeper muttered, setting his quill aside. "What are you looking for this time?"
"Heart cards," Lucian said without hesitation. "Healing. Poison resistance. And a tracking card."
The shopkeeper arched his brow, but he didn't question it. He turned, scanning the shelves behind him before pulling out three cards and placing them carefully on the counter.
"Mending Touch for wounds. Remedy's Grace for poison. Seeker's Mark for tracking. The last one needs something that belongs to the target but blood is the best for tracking, then it will guide you like a compass. Effective, but not foolproof."
Lucian picked up the cards one by one, examining their faint glow before placing them in his storage case. "How much?"
"Since the Seeker's Mark and Remedy's Grace are both rank 2 uncommon, the total is 48 silvers" the shopkeeper said, watching him closely.
Lucian handed over the coins without argument. He had spent more than he liked in the past few days, but preparation was worth the cost. Without another word, he turned and left, the bell chiming softly behind him.
Back at the inn, Lucian shut the door to his room and set the bounty sheets on the table. Four names, four potential targets. He scanned each one, committing the details to memory.
Darius Venn – A former mercenary turned extortionist, known for preying on merchants too weak to resist his demands. Additional Info: Key card user.
Marrow Flynn – A poisoner operating in the lower districts. His victims rarely survived long enough to tell the tale. Additional Info: Classical card user
Elias Goff – A thief with noble house connections. Quick, elusive, and frustratingly good at disappearing. Additional Info: Key card user.
Ulan Kess – A smuggler turned murderer. His bounty was the highest, but he came with an execution order. Additional Info: Diamond card user.
Lucian tapped his finger against Darius's name. The easiest target of the four. He wasn't about to risk his life on a high-profile hunt for his first attempt.
He set the sheets aside and retrieved his cards, spreading them across the table. The Phantom Menagerie lay in front of him, a creation he had crafted from the beasts he had slain. Its faint glow pulsed beneath his fingers, the chaotic energy barely contained within its form.
The surface of the card shifts like a living hide, flickering between shadowy images of the beasts Lucian has slain. Wolves, bears, and snakes are frozen mid-snarl with hollow, lifeless eyes, their forms constantly shifting as if struggling to take shape. At its center, a warped hand emerges, its fingers twisting unnaturally as puppet strings extend from its grasp, binding the restless shadows below. The edges of the card shimmer and warp, sometimes revealing glimpses of claws, fangs, or glowing eyes pushing against the surface as if trying to break free. When touched, the card lets out a low growl, and the hide ripples like unseen creatures shifting beneath it.
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Name: Phantom Menagerie
Rarity: Rare
Rank: Rankless
Description: When activated, the card summons a swarm of shadowy figures, each taking the form of the beasts whose souls were used in its creation. These ever-shifting creatures prowl, slither, and soar around the battlefield, their movements fluid and unnatural, flickering in and out of sight. They cannot be harmed or destroyed, as they are mere echoes of the past, bound by the puppet strings of the warped hand imprinted on the card. They relentlessly harass enemies, obstruct attacks, and disorient foes, their strikes phasing through solid matter yet leaving behind a chilling, oppressive weight that drains focus and saps energy. When the duration ends, the figures dissolve into the air, leaving only the lingering echoes of their spectral howls.
Duration: 5 minutes
Weakness(Hidden): When there are no other targets left the phantoms will attack the user
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Tomorrow, he will begin the hunt.
Morning came swiftly. Lucian slipped out of the inn before the city was fully awake, moving toward the lower districts where Darius was last seen. He had assumed tracking him would be simple. He was wrong.
The first few hours were wasted chasing rumors. Asking merchants led to vague answers, most of them too afraid to speak his name outright. Lucian began to feel the weight of inexperience pressing down on him. He knew how to fight, how to survive, but bounty hunting required a different skill set.
He kept asking, though, pushing his way through the tangled streets. The more he searched, the more he realized something was wrong. People were looking at him too long. Conversations hushed as he passed. His presence had been noticed.
Then it happened.
A flicker of movement caught his eye. A dark card sliced through the air, heading straight for his face. Lucian barely had time to react before it exploded, thick black smoke engulfing the alley in a ten-meter radius.
He coughed, disoriented. Footsteps moved through the haze, deliberate and sure.
A voice called out through the smoke, low and amused. "We will ask questions later. Gut this pig."
Lucian tensed.
Figures rushed toward him. They moved unnaturally well through the thick smoke, as if they could see through it.
He felt pain through his side. A blade buried itself into his lower back, forcing a sharp grunt from his lips. He swung blindly, his fist connecting with empty air. The attacker was gone before he could retaliate.
The smoke shifted. Something curled around his ankles. A heavy, solid force locked him in place. He realized too late, the smoke was hardening, trapping him where he stood.
Panic flared. He activated his synergy cards without thinking.
Iron scales erupted across his skin just as another blade aimed for his ribs. The strike met resistance, the scales flaring to life. A sharp snap echoed as the hit triggered his passive defense. Metal shards shot outward, embedding into his attacker's chest. The man staggered, his body seizing up as paralysis took hold.
Lucian didn't hesitate. He slashed with his ethereal claws, the spectral energy carving through the man's torso in a single, fluid motion. A scream cut through the smoke before silence followed.
Another voice swore. "Damn it. He got Edison!"
Lucian gritted his teeth. He pushed against the solidified smoke, his muscles straining. The bind cracked, then shattered under the force of his movement.
"Triboulet!" Lucian's voice was harsh, urgent. "Can you sense them? See through this?"
The sigh echoed in his mind, drawn out and theatrical. "You really are hopeless, aren't you?"
Lucian clenched his fists, ignoring the jab. "Help me."
Triboulet chuckled, the sound curling in his thoughts like smoke. "I thought you knew how to fight, Lucian. Was all that training just for show? Or do you need me to hold your hand through every little scuffle?" His tone dripped with amusement, his laughter soft but grating. "Honestly, I expected more. You look like a blind man flailing in the dark. Oh wait, you are a blind man flailing in the dark."
Lucian exhaled sharply, his irritation mounting. "Enough. Just tell me where they are."
"Fine, fine," Triboulet mused. "I'll help. Only because watching you trip over yourself isn't as fun as watching you carve through them."
Triboulet let out another exaggerated sigh, but this time, Lucian felt something shift. It wasn't just the mocking presence in his mind but something deeper latched onto his senses. A connection. Cold, unnerving, but precise.
A pulse rippled through his body, faint at first, then stronger. He could feel the air around him differently, the subtle displacements of movement, the way the smoke curled unnaturally as figures darted through it. His muscles tensed, his instincts sharpening, as though a second set of eyes had been layered over his own perception.
Lucian grip tightened, his breathing steadied, and for the first time since the ambush began, he felt like he had control.
Another figure lunged through the smoke, expecting him to be blind. Lucian turned, faster than the man anticipated. His clawed hand swiped across the enemy's throat. Blood sprayed into the air, and the body crumpled.
The others hesitated. The advantage of the smoke was gone.
Lucian didn't let them regroup. He sprinted forward, eyes locked onto the shadowed form of Darius Venn.
Darius cursed, stepping back. "Cover me!"
His men obeyed without hesitation. Their hands moved to the cards strapped to their waists, crushing them in a swift, practiced motion. A faint glow pulsed around them as the effects activated, and within seconds, spectral daggers materialized in their grips, humming with unstable energy.
Lucian braced himself as they lunged. His ethereal claws met the spectral blades in a flurry of quick, vicious strikes. The air crackled with energy as each clash sent flickers of light scattering through the thick smoke.
Then Lucian noticed something strange. Each time his claws met their weapons, a faint pull tugged at the energy within them. The spectral glow of their daggers flickered, weakening ever so slightly, while his own claws pulsed, growing brighter. He felt the surge of energy traveling up his arms, feeding into the chaotic hum coursing through his body.
The balance shifted rapidly as Lucian cut through them one by one, their movements becoming more desperate with every loss. The men hesitated now, their attacks sluggish, their spectral blades duller than before. Meanwhile, Lucian's ethereal claws flared with renewed power, their glow deepening into a rich, ominous sheen.
Then Darius raised his hand. A dark card shattered between his fingers, releasing a brief, flickering light. From that glow, purple energy surged outward, twisting unnaturally as several orbs of crackling force materialized in the air. They pulsed erratically before falling into a steady orbit around him, drifting like malevolent sentries.
Lucian narrowed his eyes and pressed forward, but Darius moved with deliberate control. His palm turned upward, fingers curling as if beckoning. The orbiting orbs responded instantly, surging toward his outstretched hand. They passed through his arm as if drawn into him, their light dimming momentarily before bursting out with terrifying speed, streaking toward Lucian in rapid succession.
The first impact struck his chest, slamming into the metallic plates of his Ironscales. A sharp, burning sensation spread across his ribs as the energy corroded the protective layer, weakening its structure. The second orb hit harder, breaking through the damaged portion and scorching the skin beneath. Lucian clenched his teeth, his body jerking from the force. The shards of his defense retaliated as designed, breaking off and shooting back toward Darius, striking his shoulder and momentarily paralyzing him.
Lucian forced himself to move despite the lingering heat searing his chest. He cut down two more of Darius's men, his ethereal claws pulsing brighter, growing stronger with each clash. The battlefield shrank as he closed the distance, his focus locked on his target.
Then he saw it.
A flicker. A shift in the air.
The last remaining men moved in unison, their hands crushing a final set of cards. A dark veil shimmered over them, distorting their forms for the briefest second before they vanished entirely.
Darius was gone.
Lucian's claws slashed through empty air.
Lucian stood alone in the smoke-filled alley, his breath ragged, his body aching.
Then laughter filled his head.
Triboulet was howling, his amusement bleeding through every syllable. "What a hunt! What a disaster! You really are something else, Lucian. All that effort, and what do you have to show for it? Oh wait, nothing."
Lucian ignored him. He activated his healing card, the warmth spreading through his body as his wounds began to mend. The lingering sting in his chest and back dulled as the Heart card worked its magic, but the ache of failure gnawed deeper than any injury.
Triboulet's voice turned playful, but there was a sharpness beneath the mockery. "Come now, Lucian. At least you have something left to salvage. Use the Soul Carver before their souls dissipate. Make something useful out of this failure."
Lucian exhaled sharply and he summoned the Soul Carver. He knelt by the bodies, pressing the blade against the nearest fallen man. The energy pulsed, a faint, sickly glow leaking from the corpse as the Soul Carver drew in the remnants of life that still clung to the flesh.
The soul resisted at first, writhing, twisting, clinging to what little remained of its host. Then the blade pulled harder, and the essence unraveled, sucked into the weapon with a final, soundless scream.
"Good," Triboulet murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Do not waste what you kill. If you're going to stain your hands in blood, at least make something worthwhile out of it."
Lucian moved to the next body, then the next. With each touch of the Soul Carver, the swirling glow of the absorbed souls grew more intense, pooling within the blade's core. He could feel them there, restless, waiting.
Triboulet hummed. "You don't have to use them right away. You can store them, keep them inside the blade until you're ready. Use them as ingredients, craft something stronger… or, if you prefer, use Soul Shuffle to turn them into a card and see what chaos gives you."
Lucian hesitated. He had used the Soul Shuffle before, but relying on pure chance wasn't something he liked. Crafting, however… that gave him control. He would decide what these souls became, after he was in a safe place. The thought of staying any longer made his stomach tighten. The Ironshade House would come soon, and he couldn't risk being here when they did. Without another glance at the bodies, he turned and disappeared into the darkened streets.