advance/early chapters : p atreon.com/Ritesh_Jadhav0869
Russell turned the new card over in his hands, still marveling at the chain synergy. His previous cards hadn't been particularly suited for chain creation. Yoriichi? No complementary weapons in that story. The only one who'd even made him consider the concept was Zoro, but honestly, the swordsman's original weapons were just well-made steel. No special abilities, no magical properties. If he ever made weapons for Zoro, he had much better options in mind—legendary demon blades that would actually be worth the investment.
Speaking of investment, 220 points isn't going to get me far. Need to start earning again.
"Let's see how this actually works," he muttered, activating the [Silver Arm].
He'd been mildly concerned about the mechanics. In the original legend, Bedivere had lost his arm entirely. Would the card require amputation? Sure, with his current regeneration abilities—courtesy of Kiss-Shot—losing a limb was more inconvenience than tragedy, but still. Nobody wants to chop off their own arm, even temporarily.
Fortunately, the card was more user-friendly than the source material.
A sleek silver arm-guard materialized over his right forearm, replacing his sleeve with articulated metal that seemed to flow like liquid mercury before solidifying. It emitted a soft, almost imperceptible silver glow—barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.
Perfect. Subtle until needed.
"Hold the sword tightly, Silver Arm," he whispered, testing the liberation phrase.
Light exploded from his arm. Not the violent eruption of Artoria's Caliburn, but a steady, pure radiance that coalesced into a golden blade. The sword wasn't quite solid—more like condensed light given form and weight. He could feel it drawing on his mental energy, but the drain was surprisingly manageable.
The physical enhancement is insane, he noted, flexing his sword arm. Strength, speed, reflexes—everything had jumped significantly. And this is just me using it. When Artoria wields it with the chain bonus...
He dismissed the phantom blade with a thought. The Silver Arm returned to its dormant state, looking like an expensive but unremarkable piece of armor.
"The real prize is the advancement path," he said to himself, pacing his room. "If I can evolve this to true Excalibur, it'll affect Artoria's evolution too."
Blake's card-making notes had been clear on this—linked evolutions were possible but rare. For Artoria to reach her theoretical peak as the Lion King, she'd need Rhongomyniad, the Holy Spear that anchored reality itself.
That's a Master-level creation at minimum. The spear that pins the world together? Yeah, that's not happening at silver level.
The irony wasn't lost on him. Excalibur was arguably equal to Rhongomyniad in power, but it required both sword and scabbard—Avalon—to reach that level. And Avalon was another Master-level creation, the ultimate defense that granted near-immortality.
His Artoria had explicitly lost her scabbard. A King of Knights with only the sword could reach Emerald, maybe low Diamond, but never higher.
"Problems for future Russell," he decided.
His mind wandered to other future cards. Aizen from Bleach, for instance. The megalomaniac Soul Reaper's final form required the Hōgyoku—that reality-warping orb that granted wishes and evolution. Creating Aizen without the Hōgyoku would be like making a race car without an engine.
"But that's gold-level thinking. Maybe emerald. Let's focus on not dying at silver first."
He summoned Artoria and Fubuki to the yard. Time for practical testing.
"Here," he said, offering the Silver Arm to Artoria. "Let's see what this baby can do."
The moment she equipped it, he felt the change through their connection. The enhancement wasn't just significant—it was transformative. With Mana Burst and the Holy Sword's boost combined, she'd rocketed to peak silver-level physical stats. In pure melee combat, without special abilities, she could probably match any silver-level card in existence.
Chain cards are broken. No wonder some myths hinge on specific equipment. Imagine Thor without Mjolnir, or King Arthur without... well, without Excalibur.
Artoria examined her new armament with curious eyes, clenching and unclenching her right hand. The silver guard had replaced her normal gauntlet seamlessly, moving like it had always been part of her.
She didn't recognize it, of course. This version of Artoria was young, before she'd pulled the true Excalibur from the stone. She only knew Caliburn, the sword of selection that would eventually break. But something about the Silver Arm felt... right. Familiar in a way she couldn't explain.
A golden blade materialized in her grip, humming with barely contained power.
It feels like Caliburn, she thought, but more.
She nodded to Fubuki, who immediately began containing the yard with telekinetic barriers. No need to destroy more property—Russell's repair bills were already astronomical.
"Flash of the Silver Arm!"
Golden light erupted from the blade, a concentrated beam of pure destruction that would have vaporized half the neighborhood if not for Fubuki's containment. The psychic compressed the energy, forcing it into a narrow channel that carved a molten trench in the ground.
Three seconds. That's how long the attack lasted before fading, leaving only glowing slag and the smell of ozone.
"Peak silver damage," Russell assessed, noting the slightly dimmed blade in Artoria's hand. "Low energy cost, no charge time needed. The sword persists after using Flash, but the enhancement drops to basically nothing during overheat. So save it for killing blows or emergencies."
He wouldn't micromanage her timing, though. Artoria had [Intuition]—supernatural battle instincts that would tell her the perfect moment to strike. He wasn't going to be that guy shouting "Use Flash now! No wait, now! Actually, five feet to the left!"
A week passed in peaceful training. No assassination attempts, no Sect attacks, no Society schemes. Just meditation and practice. Russell had almost forgotten what normal life felt like.
Friday evening found the Battle Club gathered in their usual meeting room. Coach Carter stood before them, unusually serious.
"The school found us a secret realm for training," he announced. "But listen carefully—this isn't a game. Your first priority is survival. I don't care about training goals or point scores. Don't die in there trying to be a hero."
Everyone nodded. Even Sonny managed to look appropriately grave.
"Good. Let's go."
The Death Van appeared in all its smoking, rattling glory. They piled in with practiced efficiency—Russell and Lucian in back, Yuna behind them shooting resentful glares at Russell that she thought he didn't notice, Jean staring out the window, and Sonny alternating between glowering at Lucian and Carter's shiny scalp.
Team dynamics are great. Really feeling the unity here.
The military base materialized out of nowhere, hidden by perception filters until they were practically at the gate. Carter showed multiple documents to increasingly senior officers before they were finally admitted.
"This secret realm appeared during the last Sect invasion," Carter explained as they walked. "The dangerous demons are dead, but plenty of lesser ones remain. It'll be opened for general training soon, but we get first crack at it."
He leaned in conspiratorially. "It's called the [Infinite Eye]. Every demon inside has eye-related abilities. Enhanced vision, hypnosis, energy beams from pupils—that sort of thing. Watch each other's backs."
The entrance was a shimmering tear in reality, edges crackling with unstable energy. Beyond it, Russell could see a dark sky and unnatural crimson light.
"Maps and mission data are already on your phones," Carter said. "You're going to Zone 3. Intelligence says demons are massing there for a counterattack. Your job is reconnaissance and disruption, not heroics."
He watched them approach the portal, worry creasing his face despite his attempts to look confident.
Russell's there. His defensive cards could protect them from anything short of a Master-level threat. They'll be fine.
They'd better be fine.
The transition was like diving into ice water while being electrocuted. One moment they stood in a sterile military facility, the next they were under an alien sky where a blood-red moon leered down at them with a singular, massive eye.
"Holy shit," Lucian breathed, neck craned back. "That's... that's looking at us."
Russell studied the celestial horror calmly. A massive crack ran through the pupil, like someone had taken a sword to the moon itself.
"It's dead," he said. "Or close enough. See the crack? That's what happens when a Palace-level cardmaker really cuts loose."
"Dead or not, it's creepy as hell," Sonny muttered, unable to look away from the cosmic eye.
"Let's move," Lucian said, taking charge. "Zone 3 isn't going to scout itself."
"I'll handle transportation." Russell summoned his Shadowkhan, who emerged carrying five identical obsidian chairs. He'd prepared these specifically for team missions—no point making everyone walk when they could travel through shadow.
The darkness swallowed them whole, reality becoming liquid shadow as they moved between dimensions. Lucian and the others gazed around in wonder at the non-space they traveled through.
"Russell," Sonny asked, suspicion creeping into his voice, "what happens if we run into a demon while we're... wherever this is?"
"We don't," Russell replied simply. "I send Shadowkhan ahead to scout each emergence point. We only exit where it's safe. But speaking of demons..."
He pulled out his phone, displaying the mission briefing.
"Says here the demons gain power by upgrading their eyes. But what if—and hear me out—what if the eyes are interchangeable? Like, they can swap them out for stronger versions?"
The temperature in the shadow realm seemed to drop.
I'm thinking of the Sharingan, the Rinnegan, all those swappable Naruto eyes. But they don't need to know that.
"You mean," Jean said slowly, "they could harvest eyes from stronger demons? Or from... from us?"
The silence stretched uncomfortably long before Russell laughed.
"Probably overthinking it. If they could do that, they'd have used it against the assault team. No way they'd hold back a trump card like that."
Everyone relaxed marginally, but Lucian shot Russell a knowing look. The warning had been heard and understood—stay vigilant, protect your eyes.
"Is scaring people fun for you?" Sonny grumbled, loudly enough to be heard but quietly enough to claim he was talking to himself.
Russell heard, of course. His enhanced senses made whispering pointless. But he let it slide. Sonny was like a chihuahua barking at a wolf—annoying but ultimately harmless. If the guy became a real problem, Russell would just have Carter replace him. The Battle Club would survive without Sonny. Without Russell? They might as well forfeit nationals now.
Besides, a little fear keeps people sharp. And in a realm called the Infinite Eye where demons upgrade through ocular power? Yeah, healthy paranoia is just good sense.
The shadow realm parted like curtains, depositing them at the edge of Zone 3. In the distance, shapes moved in the crimson moonlight—demons gathering for their doomed counterattack.
"Showtime," Russell murmured, golden light already gathering around his Silver Arm.
(End of this chapter)
PLZ THROW POWERSTONES.