For advance/early chapters and Support : p atreon.com/Ritesh_Jadhav0869
Russell's quarter-final opponent crumbled beneath the scorching heat of Yoriichi Tsugikuni's initial release. The poor bastard didn't even manage to mount a proper defense before golden flames consumed his summoned creatures, leaving nothing but ash and the acrid smell of defeat.
"Too easy," Russell muttered, sheathing his spiritual blade. He'd braced himself for another grueling battle like his previous encounters with Shane and Cole Kong, but this fight barely qualified as a warm-up.
The crowd's cheers felt distant as Russell made his way back to the stands, sweat still cooling on his forehead. The massive display screen flickered to life, revealing the semi-final matchups with cold, electronic precision.
New Metro First High, Russell vs. Seaview High, Holden.
Russell's jaw tightened. "So much for avoiding the strong ones until the end." If this were some commercial tournament, the organizers would've kept the fan favorites separated until the grand finale. But this was the unified examination—brutal, unforgiving, and completely indifferent to entertainment value. "Guess my first two rounds were just shit luck."
While Russell had been clawing his way through powerhouse after powerhouse, Holden had seemingly waltzed through his bracket like he was taking a leisurely stroll.
"Russell." The voice cut through his brooding like a blade. "Never thought we'd clash in the semi-finals."
Russell turned to find Holden approaching, still radiating the wild energy from his recent fight. Sweat glistened on the martial artist's muscled frame, and his eyes held that predatory gleam Russell had come to recognize in truly dangerous opponents.
"Your fighting style," Russell said, studying Holden's scarred knuckles, "that close-combat technique—can it be taught?"
Holden's eyebrows shot up before his expression shifted to genuine excitement. "Hah! Didn't expect that from you." His grin was sharp, wolfish. "Most card duelists these days are content hiding behind their summons like scared children. But you... you understand what real combat means."
Russell almost smirked. If only Holden knew how backwards his assumption was. In this world, remote support was the norm, not the exception. Still, no point in crushing the guy's enthusiasm.
"Just curious," Russell replied with a casual shrug.
Holden's face fell slightly. "Sorry, but my family's martial arts aren't shared with outsiders. Ancient tradition and all that."
"Fair enough." Russell had expected as much. Besides, if all else failed, he could always rely on the Saitama approach—overwhelming force trumped fancy technique every time.
The conversation shifted as Holden's fighting spirit blazed to life, his aura practically crackling with anticipation. "Tomorrow, Russell. Let me show you what real strength looks like. But don't expect mercy—I'm taking the crown."
Russell's smile was ice-cold. "We'll see about that."
He turned and walked away, leaving Holden standing there with clenched fists and burning eyes.
"Tch, arrogant prick," came a snide voice from behind Holden. One of his usual hangers-on had appeared, wearing that familiar sycophantic grin. "Don't worry, Holden. You'll crush him easy."
The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. Holden's gaze fixed on the bootlicker with lethal intensity. "Know your place."
The student's face went chalk-white as he realized his mistake. Holden's respect for Russell stemmed from recognizing him as an equal—something this pathetic follower would never be. Sweat beaded on the man's forehead as he dropped into a deep bow.
"I-I'm sorry, Holden! Won't happen again!"
"See that it doesn't."
Two days crawled by with agonizing slowness. Russell spent most of his time in meditation, trying to ignore the... enthusiastic competition between Kiss-Shot and Nami that had turned his room into a war zone. At least the Spirit Begging Society had left him alone—no emergency missions to complicate his preparation.
"Russell! Show them what New Metro First High is made of!"
The roar of his classmates echoed through the arena as Russell stepped onto the battlefield. Across from him, Holden cracked his knuckles, his usual wild energy replaced by cold, calculating focus.
"New Metro First High, Russell versus Seaview High, Holden!"
"START!"
The referee's whistle cut through the air like a gunshot.
Cards materialized in flashes of light—Yoriichi Tsugikuni's dignified presence, Luffy's rubber-limbed readiness, and Nami's staff-wielding grace. Holden's eyes immediately locked onto the orange-haired navigator.
Holden's eyes widened slightly as he took in Russell's lineup. "Three cards? That's new." He could feel the woman's aura—weak, barely Black Iron level. Something wasn't right. She didn't carry herself like a fighter.
"Wait..." His gaze darted between the orange-haired woman and Russell's other summons. The swordsman looked like he'd stepped out of some ancient legend, while the other two had a completely different feel to them. "She's not here to fight at all. She's connecting them somehow."
A grin spread across Holden's face. "Smart move, Russell. But if I take her out first..." He flexed his fingers around his blade's grip. "Your whole strategy falls apart."
Without hesitation, Holden launched himself forward, his blade singing through the air as he closed the distance to Nami with predatory speed.
Russell's eyes narrowed from the sidelines. Smart bastard figured it out immediately.
But Holden had underestimated Russell's guardians.
"DESTROY ALL EVIL SPIRITS AND BURN EVERYTHING TO ASH!"
Yoriichi's voice boomed across the arena like divine judgment. "HIRIN!"
His Shikai erupted in a magnificent cascade of golden-red flames, the very air igniting as his blade carved through reality itself. The scorching wave of destruction roared toward Holden with the fury of a fallen angel.
BOOM!
The collision shook the entire arena. Holden's tiger demon had materialized in a burst of wind and fury, its massive claws generating crushing pressure waves that met Yoriichi's flames head-on. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the ground, cracking stone and rattling the spectator stands.
Russell's jaw clenched as he watched the deadlock unfold. That tiger's been holding back this whole time. The demon's control over wind currents was beyond his initial estimates—each swipe of its claws generated miniature hurricanes that could level buildings. Even Yoriichi, with all his supernatural swordsmanship, couldn't break through immediately.
But Holden had made one crucial error.
While the tiger demon locked blades with Yoriichi in a spectacular display of fire versus wind, ethereal ghosts swarmed around Luffy like a plague of shadows. The rubber-bodied pirate punched and kicked with superhuman speed, but his attacks passed harmlessly through the spectral entities. They couldn't hurt him, but they could slow him down—and that was all Holden needed.
"Clever strategy," Russell admitted grudgingly. Use the tiger to neutralize Yoriichi, deploy the ghosts to contain Luffy, then eliminate Nami to break the bond. "But you've got one detail wrong, my friend."
Holden's boots scraped against stone as he closed the final meters to Nami, his blade gleaming with deadly intent. The navigator raised her staff defensively, but they both knew she was outmatched in direct combat.
Russell's lips curved into a predatory smile. The bond doesn't activate until after the card disappears. You just played right into my hands.
The arena held its breath as Holden's blade descended toward Nami's neck, while behind him, Yoriichi's flames clashed against the tiger demon's wind in an apocalyptic dance of elements. This wasn't just a semi-final anymore—it was a preview of the championship match.
Russell's only regret was that Nami would enter her 24-hour cooldown period after this. Exploring the "Nami Valley" would have to wait for another night.
The blade fell. The real battle was about to begin.
(End of this chapter)