Chapter 910

“Akit. Tell me everything.”

Yuder emphasized the name on purpose, aiming to connect it with the street card game Kishiar had shown him before. The memory was still vivid—how Kishiar, while they were tracking down an illegal fighting ring, had so effortlessly manipulated the game that it was hard to tell if he was a prince or a professional gambler.

Yuder had never lived a life where he played cards for fun. His principle had always been to train in his free time—it was more interesting, more rewarding.

Still, that didn’t mean he was ignorant about card games. Games with small wagers were very popular among Cavalry members. Back when Yuder had been Commander, there had even been members who used their abilities to cheat and win money—only to be promptly destroyed by Yuder once caught. And yet, new cheaters always emerged.

Thanks to that, Yuder, despite not being a fan of the games themselves, had become something of an expert in identifying game types, rules, and cheating behavior. From everything he’d seen, Kishiar’s card manipulation skills far exceeded those of any gambler he’d met—even in his previous life.

During one match, Kishiar had played with several accomplices without anyone noticing and managed to win and lose by the exact same margins, again and again. All without using any powers—just sleight of hand. Even Yuder, whose eyes and perception were sharper than most, couldn’t figure out how he’d done it. He’d analyzed the game many times afterward, and still couldn’t guess the method.

So with a master like that right beside him, why go anywhere else to learn how to cheat?

Kishiar, clearly realizing he’d been cornered, lowered his head and shielded his eyes.

“...Calling me by that name so suddenly is cheating. I was hoping for a bit more dramatic back-and-forth banter tonight.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Shall we begin?”

“Wait. My poor heart nearly stopped from the surprise. Give it a moment to recover.”

Kishiar chuckled and removed his hand, eyes—fully focused now that the bandages were off—meeting Yuder’s directly. The sight made Yuder’s chest tighten unexpectedly.

Since the day they used the Red Stone-infused medium to repair Kishiar’s vessel, his vision had recovered rapidly. They hadn’t yet tested it under harsh outdoor conditions, so it was unclear whether it had healed completely, but in indoor settings like this, there were no signs of distortion.

Yuder hadn’t said it aloud—it sounded too sentimental—but when Kishiar removed the bandages and faced him directly, it felt like something lost had finally returned.

And even now, he felt the same way.

Maybe even stronger than before...

“Let’s begin,” Aton announced, eyes bloodshot.

Yuder snapped out of his thoughts. The stack of cards lay before him. He calmly flipped them and focused his fingertips. Kishiar’s instructions from last night replayed in his head:

“Each game has its own tricks. For this situation, don’t learn a bunch of them °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° shallowly—master one deeply. I’d say Clover Leaves is your best bet.”

“You pick this up fast. Is this really your first time? Anyone else would still be confused by the first trick.”

“Technique matters, but the real success lies in how well you redirect your opponent’s focus. That’s why I told you not to teach Lusan how to play—the sincerity of his reactions will throw Aton off.”

Kishiar had said Aton’s victories in gambling dens weren’t due to skill, but the subtle interventions of his allies manipulating the game without Duke Ta-in’s knowledge.

“To him, gambling was just a way to make the Duke depend on them. He may have some skill, but he’s not a master.”

Duke Ta-in frequented high society gambling halls, where card games were no longer in vogue.

“Use his confidence, his pride—and the flaws he doesn’t realize he has. Play into those emotions. If you can time the few tricks I taught you just right...”

Then Yuder could get exactly what he wanted. That certainty had been etched into Kishiar’s red eyes.

And Yuder did just that—rattling Aton from the roots, redirecting his attention and emotions every chance he got, slipping in Kishiar’s sleight of hand when Aton’s focus wavered. Even that offhand comment at the start—*“I don’t usually get called persistent, but you’re the exception”—*had been part of the setup.

With his faith and pride shaken, blinded by fury and the illusion of his own skill, Aton didn’t stop to question what kind of person Gloena was. She had shuffled the deck and won the first round—yet he hadn’t spared her a second thought. That was his fatal mistake.

Between Yuder’s attention-sucking banter and Lusan’s authentic cluelessness, Gloena fulfilled her hidden role perfectly.

With her ability already activated, she preselected five cards. Yuder, using Kishiar’s sleight of hand, ensured they ended up in Aton’s hands. The hardest part was manipulating him into unknowingly picking specific cards—but Lusan helped with that too.

Just like Kishiar had said, Lusan’s naive meddling injected chaotic noise into the game, creating the perfect smoke screen. He hadn’t even realized how helpful he was.

According to Kishiar, Clover Leaves looked simple but had layers. An inexperienced player could only detect about 24 patterns at best—another reason he’d recommended it.

“If you couldn’t memorize all the patterns in a night, I’d have suggested another game. But you did, didn’t you?”

Indeed, by memorizing them, Yuder could manipulate the outcome so Lusan would never come in last.

And all of it—for one card.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Had it been used as a blessing, it would have shielded its target from slander and misfortune. But in the past, Gloena had almost always used it as a curse. Those cursed would fall unconscious or into a trance—and upon waking, would answer all questions with complete honesty, without even remembering what they’d revealed.

It wasn’t perfect—there was no way to know exactly how long it would take to take effect—but once activated, the curse’s aftermath was priceless. Yuder had tested its reliability many times in his past life.

He called it the Truth Card, though it had another name...

“Are you going to flip the card you stole?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, shame. Wasn’t the one you hoped for?”

“...Shut up.”

Back in the second round, Aton had forcibly swapped one of Yuder’s cards using a special rule. Yuder had let him think that card was important—setting the final trap.

Now, as Aton flipped it, frowning, Yuder’s lips curled.

Aton coldly placed the card in the open area, per the rules—it had to remain revealed until the game ended.

Sitting closest, Gloena lowered her eyes and spoke, voice trembling slightly.

“Confirmed. The Stale Song of Joy.”

The moment she spoke its name, a faint aura rose and sank into Aton—but he was watching Yuder, not the card.

To him, the leaf symbol and number on the card—and Yuder’s reaction—were what mattered.

Thinking he’d failed to grab a meaningful card, Aton growled, entirely unaware of the aura already slipping into him.

And now—

“...It’s your turn. Or are you not going to play?”

Yuder addressed Aton, who sat hunched, clutching his cards. The man who had played only to manipulate Duke Ta-in now sat collapsed on a rigged board designed just for him. It was almost funny.

After a long silence, Aton finally whispered, head still bowed:

“...I don’t know what to play.”

A hollow, dazed voice—devoid of emotion.

Gloena and Lusan both gasped.

It was the first time they’d witnessed the mouth of Truth begin to speak.