The inside of the town hall was large and multi-chambered, built to impress without overwhelming. Entering through the main doors, I was met with two diverging hallways and a broad stone staircase directly ahead, its bannister polished smooth by generations of hands. One of the butlers paused just long enough to assess me before gesturing toward the hallway on the left.
The corridor was tall and wide, designed so that even armored guests could pass comfortably. Its walls were lined with paintings of tasteful landscapes, formal portraits, and scenes of old victories rendered in restrained colors. No excess gold leaf, no dramatic flourishes. Each piece radiated wealth of the quiet, unquestioned sort. The kind that didn't need to prove itself.
At the end of the hall, the butler stopped, straightened, and knocked twice.
"I have brought Lord Orik of Thornridge."
…
Silence lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Long enough to be deliberate.
"Bring him in."
The door swung open, revealing a dimmer space beyond, and I stepped inside. The butler followed just long enough to announce my presence before withdrawing without a sound, the door closing softly behind him.
The room was circular, its walls almost completely covered in portraits. Faces stared down at me from gilded frames. Faces of stern men, proud women, every one of them wearing the same colors, the same sigil worked subtly into their clothing. Every head of the Blackmantle family, preserved and watching.
Korrin, Baron of Blackmarr and current head of the Blackmantle family, sat behind a massive desk in an equally massive chair. The proportions were intentional. He looked entirely at ease, sucking on a pipe as though he were waiting for an old friend rather than a rival.
He regarded me for a moment, eyes weighing, then set his drink on the desk.
"Come, Orik. Please, sit."
I nodded and took a seat across from him. Three chairs stood before the desk, each subtly different in carving and upholstery. All of them, mine included, were noticeably smaller than his.
Korrin leaned back, pipe smoke curling lazily around his head, lingering as though even the air deferred to him.
"Can I offer you a drink?" he asked. "Thirty-year-old whiskey. Only for special occasions."
"Sure," I said. "That's most generous of you."
"Hahaha! Think nothing of it."
He reached for a bottle on the shelf beside him, poured two glasses with practiced ease, and slid one toward me. He lifted his own and took a long sip.
"Ahhh. Now that's the good stuff."
I drank as well. Smooth. Warm. Dangerous.
"So," I said, setting the glass down carefully, "you want the golem card?"
Korrin's smile didn't falter. "Yes. Exactly that." He tapped his pipe against the ash tray, dislodging a neat fall of gray. "I would feel terrible taking it from you by force, so I decided a friendly challenge would be more civilized."
He chuckled, clearly pleased with the phrasing.
"Golem cards are very popular these days. All the high-ranking nobles are fighting over one. Imagine my surprise when I learned a rural lord like yourself had one." He shrugged. "Naturally, I had to get it."
I frowned.
Unless he intended to march on Thornridge, he had no authority over me. My land wasn't part of his barony, and even if it were, he couldn't simply confiscate my deck.
Korrin poured himself another drink, unhurried.
"No need to frown, my friend. Ever since King Sigrin Steel unveiled a golem in her deck, this outcome was inevitable."
His laughter echoed through the chamber, bouncing off stone and canvas alike.
I already knew that. It was why I'd played the card openly. I could've won that clash without it.
A slow smile crept onto my face.
Either this man was a brilliant actor… Or he was drunk on his own confidence.
"I must say," Korrin continued, eyes half-lidded as he studied me, "your clash wasn't bad."
That snapped my attention back to him.
"You showed potential."
"Oh?" I asked.
"Hog Rider," he said, waving a hand as though dismissing a footnote. "Decent card. Fragile, though. I'm surprised you pulled out a win with it. Your opponent had sturdier units, and even a building. Against a stronger deck, you'd have lost."
"I see."
I let the silence stretch, letting him sit with it.
"So," I said at last, "what are you offering? As you said, the golem is valuable."
"Gehehehe."
His grin widened, exposing teeth.
"One million gold. One million elixir." He paused, watching my reaction. "And an X-Bow card."
I froze.
An X-Bow.
Not just rare—foundational. Entire deck archetypes were built around it. Even among nobles, owning one was a statement of both wealth and intent.
And he was willing to wager it.
Either Korrin was absurdly confident… or he didn't care if he lost.
Most players favored heavier decks these days. The X-Bow's value may have dipped, but not enough to treat it lightly.
"I see," I said after a moment, keeping my voice steady. "A fair price."
His eyes narrowed just a fraction, sharp despite the drink.
"I assume the clash will be tomorrow?" I added.
"Public," he said immediately. Then he smirked.
"Or private. Not all royale clashes are meant for the public eye."
So that was it. A privilege reserved for higher-ranked nobles.
"Your choice," I replied.
Korrin leaned back, the chair creaking beneath his weight.
"In that case," he said, smiling wide, "given how calm you are… let's make it public. Broadcast across the kingdom."
The announcement spread faster than I expected.
Trumpets blared through Blackmarr, echoing off stone walls and crowded streets. A herald stood in the central plaza, his voice magically amplified, cutting cleanly through the noise.
"By decree of Baron Korrin Blackmantle! A public royale clash shall be held at the Grand Arena! Lord Orik of Thornridge versus Baron Korrin! The stakes: one golem card, one X-Bow card, one million gold, and one million elixir!"
The crowd erupted.
The Grand Arena was massive—easily twice the size of any battlefield I had played on before. Stone walls towered above packed stands, banners of black and gold hanging from every pillar, snapping in the wind.
I walked through the entrance tunnel, deck case in hand. With every step, the roar grew louder, more tangible, vibrating through the stone beneath my boots.
When I emerged into the light, the crowd exploded.
Another gate opened across the arena.
Korrin waddled out confidently, pipe already in his mouth, waving as though this were a festival rather than a duel.
"So," I muttered under my breath, eyes locked on him, "let's do it."