The Seven-Fingered Ghoul’s attack wasn’t so much as a strike but a whole performance of tipsy martial arts that ended with his extra-fingered fist meeting the Cleric of Leviathan’s jaw.
Walt’s minion performed a whole drunken kata that struck of aggressive and alcohol-fueled peacocking. Was the ghoul showing off? The cleric’s eyes darted back and forth, watching the staggered dance of shifting feet and weird undead shadow boxing.
Then suddenly, the seven-fingered hand closed into a fist and punched the cleric in the chin and mouth. There was the sound of bone crunching. To add insult to injury, the ghoul pressed his thumb into the cleric’s eye before retracting its fist.
Meanwhile, the Blood Queen and the Priest of the Blazing Shield, who was now shield-less, exchanged blows. She swiped her elongated claws of blood across its helm, and they raked across the armor and then found purchase in the flesh of the priest’s neck, drawing blood.
He grunted in pain and then retaliated, hitting her in the stomach with the cinder mace. She folded over the weapon and blood sprayed out of her crimson mouth.
Both minions were one attack away from perishing, depending on the power of the attack. But Walt felt that if something even breathed the wrong way on the Blood Queen she’d be on a one way flight back to his card gauntlet.
Up on the second floor, the Cleric of Leviathan, still clutching its face from the ghoul’s punch, did something that upset his master, the Hellpriest.
One of his hands began to glow with blue flames of healing light.
Beth’s shrill voice sounded in the library. “Don’t heal yourself! Heal the Priest of the Blazing Shield!
But the cleric did indeed heal itself. An aura of blue flames licked over its form, restoring the minion back to full health.
“ No!” Beth said. “You messed it all up!”
And that's when the Seven-Fingered Ghoul clocked her across the jaw.
The gong sounded.
Turn 7
03:00
Vigor Stones
How many cards to Draw?
Walt circled around the minions, putting more distance between himself and them so he’d have some time to react if one of Beth’s creatures came after him. Also, he was making his way to the set of spiral stairs that led to the second floor. He wanted eyes on Beth.
A trail of glowing red motes winded past him and ascended to the second floor, where there was a flash of crimson healing light.
It was Beth’s Hellwell, healing her.
Hellpriest
Health Points: 54
He glanced at his own.
Voidlock
Health Points: 72
He noted her location and began to climb the stairs. Because his card hand had increased from five cards to seven thanks to Seven-Fingered Ghoul’s War Whoop effect, he decided to hold onto most of his hand. But he did draw two new cards.
He held onto:
Replicate
Abyssal Blast
Wand of Green Skulls
Upturn the Graves, Again!
Renounce the Grave
And the new cards that appeared in his hand were:
Eldritch Guard
Blood Imp
The first obvious option was play Abyssal Blast, the spell that would deal damage directly to Beth. It cost 7 Vigor Stones, so it would maximize stone usage. But the Hellpriest’s health was still too high to make the spell worth it. At fifteen damage, she would just heal herself to null the effects.
His other choice was to equip the Wand of Green Skulls and he’d still have enough Vigor Stones left to play either Renounce the Grave or Blood Imp. He liked the idea of equipping the wand, and his hands felt empty without it. But the play would be a tad inefficient because the other two cards cost two Vigor Stones, which would leave him with one unused stone. If he equipped the wand, there was also nothing he could really Soultap into to play.
Renounce the Grave was the strange wild card in his deck. It was the card that replaced the player’s Hero Ability with another class. He wondered if it was replaced with a random class’s Hero Ability. Also, if the player was a Necromancer, it would replace all the cards of the Necromantic Set in the player’s deck.
Again, he wasn’t sure why he even included it in his deck except that, in his previous card game playing experience, in games where one didn’t die if you lost and where magic and monsters weren’t real, it was sometimes wise to have such a card in your deck. If only to introduce chaos into the match. And statistically, these wild cards always had a net positive effect on his win-loss ratio.
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A small effect of course, but he had never been able to deny that it existed. He doubt it would serve him here, but it was an old habit to include a wild card in his deck.
Then there was Eldritch Guard. A Rare card if the Darkened Soul Arts set, whose minion was a demon prince of the Nether Realms. It had multiple considerable attacks and at 25 Health Points it would have a commanding board presence. The only problem is that it cost 8 Vigor Stones. Walt would have to use Soultap to play it, which would dip his health another ten points.
There was an offended shout of pain on the second floor.
The Cleric of Leviathan had produced a black wand and he had fired a ball of cold blue flames at the Seven-Fingured Ghoul. Walt’s minion looked at the scorched gelatinous flesh on its shoulder. There were still flickers of blue flame burning in the goo like it was melted candle-wax.
“Are you really going to bring a wand into a fist-fight?” The Seven-Fingered Ghoul said. “That’s dirty, mate. Real dirty.”
Then a voice behind Walt caught his attention.
“When you return to Hell,” the Blood Queen said, “tell Leviathan that the Blood Queen sends her regards.”
And she used her Rend attack to tear open the Priest of the Blazing Shield’s exposed jugular. Her blood claws slashed open his neck, trailing scarlet droplets through the air.
The armored brute dropped his cinder mace and grabbed his throat, trying to breathe. He stumbled and then collapsed. He fell so hard his helm cracked the floor. Then there was a whoosh of air and blue flames shot out of the cracks and slots in his armor.
The blue flames burned the body within to cinders. Blue motes of light flowed back up to the Hellpriest’s gauntlet.
The Blood Queen put her hand on a shelf to steady herself. She shook her head, dizzy and weakened. “You don’t happen to have any cards in your hand that could heal me?”
Walt shook his head. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”
“No matter. It means I’ll just be making it to that mani pedi session on time after all. But you should play a minion to replace me when I fall. This duel isn’t over yet and our ghoul friend up there won’t be enough for you to guarantee a win.”
Walt nodded and looked at the timer.
Turn 7
02:37
He still had about a minute to make his play. And since he had prio he could run the clock a little. So he climbed the stairs and reached the second floor, following the trail of light motes he had seen from Beth’s defeated cards.
She was huddled behind a librarian’s desk, flipping through her card hand and mumbling to herself. Talking out plays. Two of the Chronico-drone cams hummed through the air and tracked them both.
“I hope you have something good to play next,” Walt said, startling the Hellpriest.
She scrambled to her feet and glared at him.
“Because I’m about to establish control of this battleboard,” Walt said. “So I hope that you’re praying to your Leviathan that you draw into some removal cards.”
Then he smiled at her.
So, here was another nuance of the game that he had been vaguely aware of, but now its importance was coming into sharper focus.
Shit talk.
In Mythic tournaments, trash talk, table talk and politicking was allowed to an extent. There was no rule against it. But there was such a thing as etiquette and common courtesy that could have an effect on a player’s reputation within the community.
Walt hadn’t been a trash talker himself. Sometimes he was too in the zone, too in the sway of the Librium side-effects or immersed in his own head, playing out the future plays and trying to predict his opponent, to even be aware of things his opponent would say.
Trash talking was a good way to get into an opponent’s head, even if it could give the trash-talking player a reputation for being obnoxious or even a villain.
But now, sober and in a game where everything was real, even pain and death, trash talking seemed to take on a new dimension. Controlling one’s emotions was going to be a big factor here. He’d have to protect his mental.
While at the same time chipping away at the mental state of his opponent.
“I doubt you’ll be able to touch me after my next play,” Walt said.
The Hellpriest blinked. Then her mouth became a hard line and she trembled with rage. “I will make you regret this.”
“Regret what? Being one win closer to finishing my Trial matches so I can become a legit Slaystone duelist?”
Her hands clenched into fists. Spittle flew out of her mouth. “Play your fucking cards!”
Walt Soultapped. He fell to one knee, gasping at the pain. The veins along his neck and arms darkened and a cloud of red light flashed in his core. His health converted into an extra Vigor Stone.
Health Points: 62
Vigor Stones: 8/7
Then the pain subsided and one of his cards spun above his head. He backed away from it. The cloud morphed into a swirling gray cloud. It started to grow bigger and bigger until there was a mini-cyclone in the air. Forks of violet lightning flashed within.
A figure appeared in the eye of the storm, hulking and winged. The wind died down as the cloud and lightning dissolved.
The Eldritch Guard was kneeling on one knee before them. Purple and black wings unfolded to reveal the green-skinned nether being within. It was a demon prince, not of Hell, but of somewhere else entirely.
The Nether Realms.
He rose to his feet. Curved black horns rose off his skull. His face and naked torso was covered in mesmerizing tattoos of swirling purple light. Two cruel-looking axes were on his belt, the blades hewn from obsidian or some other mysterious and nebulous metal.
When he spoke, his deep voice boomed through the library. “Who has dared summon me to this realm?”
Walt cleared his throat. Even though it was his minion, he still felt fear.
And respect.
He awkwardly raised his hand, then realized what he was doing and put it back down. “Me.”
The Eldritch Guard turned to look him up and down.
“I did,” Walt said. “And I humbly request you for help.”
At that, the Eldritch Guard’s pupil’s softened. “You’re just a Trial.”
“Yep. This is only my second duel. And I need your power and might to help me slay an enemy.”
The Eldritch Guard puffed out his chest and drew the cruel-looking twin axes. “This I can do. Who is it you would like me to slay?”
Walt nodded over at the Hellpriest.
Beth had slowly been backing away from Walt and his new minion. One eye on a route of escape, the other eye on her cards. When she saw the Eldritch Guard turn to regard her, that’s when she made her play.
She tossed a card into the air and ran.
The card burst, flashing the brief image of an hour glass that nearly blinded Walt and the Eldritch Guard. Then a portal of sand swirled before them. A human hand emerged, touching the library floor.
And then another, and another. Revealing the centipede-like torso of flayed gray flesh that had human arms instead of legs. It seemed to be a centipede monster, but completely comprised of human body parts. A multitude of human heads, faces twisted in pain and horror, protruded from the torso-like mass.
Sand was pouring out of some of the mouths.
And the head was massive, like someone had tried to construct a dragon head by surgically combining pieces of people. All in all, a grotesque monstrosity.
[Examine]
[Chronobite]
Chronobite. Minion. Set: Leviathan’s Lair. Rarity: Legendary. Created by sewing together the bodies of the fallen monks of the Timeweaver sect by the priest-surgeons of the Leviathan’s Lair, this minion can Fast Forward time.
Fast Forward: Player gets to play an Extra Turn. But opponent will also get to play Two Turns in a row after.
Bite: 12 Attack, Cooldown: 5 seconds
Claw: 10 Attack, Cooldown: 3 seconds
Health Points: 20
Cost: 7 Vigor Stones
“Holy fuck,” Walt said.
And that’s when the Hellpriest played her next Turn.