Chapter 102: The List (22)
Lucien sat slumped against the pillows, eyes glued to the spread of cards in his hand.
The jellyfish peeked out at him again, translucent and limp, its pale tendrils drifting in painted blue waters.
The art had a way of looking smug, like it knew it was useless.
A parasite of cardboard.
He let out a slow breath through his teeth.
Before, when he’d sacrificed the first jellyfish to draw a new card, at least he’d felt some measure of control.
If he couldn’t win through raw numbers, he could at least steer the tempo by deciding which stat to call.
Bluff, posture, bait Vivien into stumbling, those had been the tools before, the careful layers of misdirection and restraint.
But now?
He’d given that up, letting the pretense fall away along with the safety it offered, choosing clarity and commitment over tricks.
Tossing the jellyfish had been supposed to help, but the replacement had betrayed him, another jellyfish.
He hadn’t just lost a card; he’d lost initiative.
All momentum was now firmly in Vivien’s hands.
Lucien rubbed his brow and muttered, “Fine. You make the call.”
Vivien, who had been sitting with her hands neatly folded, lifted her eyes with an elegance that felt rehearsed.
She didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she tilted her cards slightly in her lap, surveying her spread.
The Boar.
The Walking Tree.
The Cuboidal Slime.
Three guardians in waiting.
Her lips curved in a tiny smile.
“…Defense.”
Lucien’s gut sank.
‘Of course she’d call that.’
Vivien glanced down at the numbers, her pulse quickening.
‘Boar: 4.’
‘Walking Tree: 5.’
‘Slime: 3.’
Twelve in total, solid.
Her mind painted the scene before her eyes could stop it.
The infirmary vanished.
In its place rose a vast battlefield under a storm-dark sky.
Jagged rocks jutted from scorched earth, and lightning danced among the clouds like furious serpents.
Vivien stood tall in gleaming silver armor, her hair flowing like a banner in the wind.
Behind her, three beasts manifested from glowing cards: the sturdy Boar pawing the ground, tusks glinting; the Walking Tree towering, bark creaking; and the Cuboidal Slime quivering with gelatinous defiance.
Across the arena, Lucien loomed.
His figure was shrouded in shadow, lips curled into a wicked grin.
The winged serpent slithered forward, scales glistening with malice, wings unfurled like torn banners.
Its slit-pupil eyes locked on her.
Vivien pressed her cheek against the Boar’s bristly hide, whispering words of encouragement.
“You’re strong enough. Stronger than his tricks. For Phillip’s sake, we will not falter.”
She kissed its tusk, stepped back, and thrust her arm toward the battlefield.
“Go forth!”
Lucien’s laughter was thunderous.
His serpent rose into the air at his command, its forked tongue crackling with static.
He pointed down with a cruel flourish.
“Crush her.”
The two beasts charged.
A bolt of lightning ripped the sky open, searing white against black.
It struck both combatants in a blinding flash.
Vivien shielded her eyes, heart pounding.
The roar of impact rang in her ears, the battlefield trembling underfoot.
When the light died and smoke cleared, her eyes widened, her Boar was still standing.
Soot marked its flank, blood dripped from its shoulder, but its tusks gleamed defiantly.
The serpent lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious, wings crumpled, tongue limp.
Vivien gasped, then sprinted forward, falling to her knees beside her beast.
She wrapped her arms around its thick neck, pressing her cheek into its warm hide.
“You did it! You endured! You’ve saved us!”
She laughed, bright, triumphant, unstoppable.
Raising her arm high, she declared, “The first victory belongs to me!”
***
Back in the real infirmary, Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose.
The numbers were clear: his serpent’s pathetic defense of 2 had been dwarfed by her Boar’s sturdy 4.
A simple clash, a simple loss.
But across from him, Vivien wasn’t simply pleased, she was radiant, her eyes shut, cheeks flushed, a smug little chuckle slipping from her lips.
She hugged the air as though clutching an invisible beast, her expression glowing with pride.
Lucien stared.
“…What the hell is she celebrating for?”
The duel had barely begun.
And yet, in Vivien’s dreamscape, she was already victorious.
Lucien sat stiffly, card edges digging into his palm.
He could feel the jellyfish mocking him from his hand, its watercolor body floating uselessly, tendrils limp.
The serpent had already collapsed in disgrace.
Now it was the jellyfish’s turn to embarrass him.
He let out a sigh like a man condemned.
“…Alright. Next.”
Vivien’s eyes gleamed, sharp and certain.
She lowered her gaze to her cards again, fingertips brushing against the Cuboidal Slime.
Its stat block wasn’t dazzling, Strength 2, Defense 3, Magic 6, but here, in this matchup, it would be more than enough.
She tapped the card, sliding it forward with a precise flick.
“Slime,” she said softly, almost reverently.
Lucien muttered under his breath, grabbed the jellyfish card, and without ceremony slapped it down onto the blanket.
“And this… abomination.”
He waved his hand over it like a defeated magician revealing a rabbit that had already suffocated in the hat.
“Look at it. This thing can’t win against anything. Not strength, not magic, not defense. It’s practically a participation award given form.”
He leaned back, resigned.
“Your slime wins by default.”
But Vivien’s eyes sharpened, her knuckles whitening as her glare pinned him.
She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just stared with indignation.
Lucien blinked, sitting up slightly.
“…What? What’d I say?”
Her gaze only deepened, like he’d just spat on something sacred.
‘What’s her deal?’
Delving back into Vivien’s Hallucinations.
The battlefield darkened again in her vision, the sky alive with lightning.
She strode forward, a righteous glow burning in her chest.
Behind her, the Cuboidal Slime quivered, gelatinous body rippling like a liquid shield.
It was ridiculous.
It was absurd.
But to her, it was loyal.
Strong.
A companion worth trusting.
“Slime!”
She cried, thrusting a hand toward the field.
“It’s your time, go forth!”
The blob wobbled eagerly, bouncing across the dirt like a heroic pudding.
Each little jiggle was an act of defiance, each tremor a declaration of love.
Across the arena, Lucien stood tall, shadows clinging to him like a villain’s cloak.
His grin split unnaturally wide as he hurled his jellyfish onto the ground.
The poor thing flopped in the dirt, gasping soundlessly, its tendrils twitching in confusion.
Vivien’s heart lurched.
“Cruel!”
She shouted, voice ringing across the arena.
“How could you treat your beast like that? You heartless monster!”
Lucien threw his head back in a peal of cartoonishly evil laughter, arms spread wide.
“I care not for weakness! All creatures shall serve as my pawns, to be discarded when their usefulness ends!”
Lightning flashed behind him, perfectly timed, casting his shadow into something monstrous.
“Even if they must flop pitifully in the dirt, so be it! MUHAHAHAHA!”
Vivien clenched her fist.
“You fiend… I’ll never forgive you!”
She jabbed a finger at the arena.
“Slime, show him the meaning of loyalty!”
The lightning bolt struck.
Thunder cracked.
When the smoke cleared, her slime jiggled proudly, scuffed but undaunted, still quivering with resolve.
The jellyfish, however, had transformed into something wholly different.
A singed, curled husk lay on the ground, its tendrils shriveled.
The acrid smell of burnt seafood wafted through Vivien’s hallucination.
She gasped.
“It turned into fried squid!”
(We shall not go into how a jellyfish upon being hit by lightning turns into a squid. Some parts of the hallucination are known only to Vivien and Vivien alone.)
The slime let out what could only be described as a triumphant wobble.
Vivien sprinted forward, clasping her hands before her chest, tears glittering in her eyes.
“You’ve done it again! You’ve beaten back the forces of darkness! For Phillip! For all of us!”
She laughed in relief, radiant with pride.
“Victory!”
Back in reality.
Lucien sat hunched on the bed, arms crossed, staring down at the jellyfish card splayed next to Vivien’s slime card.
His expression was that of a man watching his dignity leak through a sieve.
“Yep,” he said flatly.
“Exactly as I thought. Worthless.”
That was when Vivien chuckled.
Just once, a small, soft sound, escaping before she could rein it in.
Her poker face slipped for the briefest instant, lips curling into a smug little smile.
Lucien froze.
His eyes darted to her face, then back to his remaining card.
The knight.
The only thing left between him and utter annihilation.
‘Why’s she laughing? What’s she got?’
The slime had been irritating enough.
But if she was smiling now, actually smiling, then whatever card she was still holding had to be devastating.
Lucien’s jaw tightened.
He clenched his knight card until the edges bit into his fingers, sweat prickling at his temple.
‘…Please don’t let it be a dragon.’
