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Despite Anson's self-deprecating "wild dog" label, Russell saw something else entirely.
"More like a wolf king," he muttered, summoning his cards to the battlefield.
In the VIP section, Yves studied Russell's eclectic lineup with amusement. "Director Blake, this disciple doesn't follow your style at all. His card system is... chaotic. But the raw power is undeniable. No wonder you don't interfere."
Blake remained neutral. He'd never dictated his disciples' paths—Hazel specialized in lightning rather than death, looking more Taoist than his student. "The young ones forge their own destinies. I just provide occasional guidance."
As a Palace-level cardmaker, Yves understood perfectly. "If your student continues this trajectory... 'Myriad Aspects' would be a fitting title."
Blake laughed. "Titles come later. Russell's still silver-rank."
"Fair point." Yves waved dismissively. Just idle speculation about a promising youth.
The referee's whistle unleashed immediate violence. Artoria and Neliel charged while the robots retreated, thrusters blazing. They wanted distance, not melee combat.
Lightning roared. Black flames spread across metal. Under Unohana and Sasuke's covering fire, the warriors pressed toward the core carrier.
"Moon."
Cold light washed over the arena. A milky laser met Fubuki's invisible barrier, scattering into harmless beams. The telekinetic defense held perfectly.
"Star."
Russell's eyes sharpened. "Finally. The last attack mode."
Black spheres materialized overhead, then plummeted—wreathed in atmospheric friction flames.
"Kinetic bombardment," Russell identified instantly. "'Rods from God.'"
Sun: miniature nuke. Moon: laser weapon. Stars: orbital strike.
"But this altitude shouldn't allow proper acceleration," he noted, glancing at the barrier's ceiling. "Special acceleration then. Can't apply real physics to cards."
The spheres impacted without exploding, but the kinetic force sent soil surging like tsunami waves against the barriers. The battlefield became lunar surface—cratered and desolate.
Fortunately, Russell's cards were agile. Despite the strikes' speed, nothing connected.
BOOM!
Anson detonated his defense module.
"Defense Module: [Force Field: God-Stop] loading initiated."
"Loading complete."
Invisible waves swept the venue. Russell frowned as Unohana visibly weakened.
"Sister Lie counts as a 'god'?"
Well, Soul Reapers ARE death gods technically...
Blake looked surprised in the VIP section. He knew Russell had death-type cards, but hadn't expected them to register as divine.
Yves looked strange. "Director Blake, I retract my earlier comment. Young Russell truly is your disciple."
Blake's expression mixed amusement and pride. But this revelation meant something more—gods implied pantheons, hierarchies, extended systems. Russell's cards weren't standalone creations but part of something larger. And this conception predated becoming Blake's student—Yoriichi had appeared during the unified exam.
"This boy..." Blake smiled wider.
On the field, Unohana ignored her weakening, drawing her blade with casual indifference. Already triggered by "Star," her true nature emerged. She vanished, reappearing with a black flame-wreathed invisible sword slashing at the core carrier.
BOOM!
An invisible barrier blocked not just Unohana, but simultaneous strikes from all three warriors. The already devastated field turned to dust.
"So it's not just anti-divine. Full defensive capabilities too." Russell wasn't surprised. It was called a defense module, after all.
The core carrier floated upward, escaping the ruined earth. Red eyes scanned Russell's cards with mechanical precision.
"Moon."
Another lunar judgment fell, useless against Fubuki's protection. They'd reached stalemate—this could continue until someone's mental energy depleted.
But Russell had Caliburn.
The audience agreed. "Russell's got this."
"One shot from King Arthur ends it."
"Shame Northwestern came so far just to lose."
But the VIPs saw differently.
"Director Blake," Yves said, mental probe active, "Russell might struggle here."
Blake remained calm. "Russell said he understood the situation. I trust him."
Valeron shook his head at Blake's confidence.
Alaric, deliberately not probing for immersion's sake, muttered, "I still think Russell wins."
Artoria raised Caliburn high. Golden particles danced as mana gathered. Her allies corralled the carrier, limiting escape routes.
Finally, heaven's river descended—golden torrent seeking silicon prey.
The carrier had nowhere to dodge. Unohana and Neliel flash-stepped clear.
Direct hit.
The audience waited for victory declaration. TV viewers leaned forward in anticipation.
But when light faded, the referee remained silent.
The carrier, like the modules before, hadn't dissipated.
"Russell," Anson's voice trembled with exhaustion and determination, "I said this was wild dog versus genius."
"The dog's exhausted, but keeps fighting for its pack. Even geniuses bleed when bitten."
Russell listened silently. In a street fight, he'd already be in Arrogance form, physically dismantling Anson. But this was nationals—assault meant disqualification.
"This is my gift to them," Anson continued, growing paler, body shaking. "My surprise for you geniuses."
Cards shattered around him. Silver cubes materialized across the field. His teammates moved to support him, but he waved them off. Despite looking ready to collapse, his eyes blazed with terrifying intensity.
"Wild dogs have fangs too."
"[Field Card: The Mechanical Realm]."
A phantom industrial landscape flashed—steel ground, infinite factories, mechanical perfection.
The silver cubes began assembling.
"Core Module: [Power Reactor • Wolfpack] loading initiated."
"Loading complete."
"Assembling [Final Annihilation Weapon: Type I]."
"Assembly complete."
"Current Combat Mode: ANNIHILATE."
A massive silver robot rose from one knee, scarlet eyes opening with malevolent awareness. Larger, more complex, radiating inevitability.
Silence gripped the stadium.
"Disposable cards?" Alaric asked uncertainly.
Yves nodded. "The Field Card lets him hold multiple disposables simultaneously. He invested everything for this moment. White and green quality individually, but quantity becomes quality."
"The outcome's uncertain now."
Only Blake maintained absolute faith.
Russell studied the giant, puzzled. How's he holding so many cards? Field Card effect?
Anson couldn't answer—he was barely standing.
"Your speech was touching," Russell said calmly. "If I wasn't about to get friendship-and-bonds punched, I might even be moved."
Anson stared, confused by Russell's lack of shock.
"But unfortunately," Russell continued, "I also have a trump card. Since you insist this is wild dog versus genius..."
"Let me show you real despair."
Anson's gaze snapped to the field.
Sasuke stood with crossed arms, Mangekyō Sharingan spinning with emotionless precision.
Purple spectral energy erupted from the ground, forming a skeletal giant that matched the robot's height.
"The Third Power..."
"[Susanoo]."
The flower of despair blooming from hatred. The Sharingan's ultimate technique.
For the first time in this world's history, the avatar of vengeance manifested.
(End of Chapter)
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