Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2521: My Reclusive Celestial

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Central Region, Central Academic City, Morningstar University District, Morningstar University Campus, Garden of Beginning

”Holy shit!” Lucine gasped, staring at me using celestial force to fight the world’s celestial will’s intent with her mouth hanging open.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing—me, a mere card apprentice, actually using celestial force against the world’s celestial will itself. It was, in her words, the most absurdly stupid and impossibly brave thing she had ever witnessed.

Bizarre didn’t even begin to cover it. As far as Lucine knew, a card apprentice could only wield celestial force by borrowing it from the Card World—the very same entity I was now challenging. To her, watching me do this was like seeing a son flaunt his father’s money before his father. Was it not the stupidest and daring act?

And from the look on her face, she was absolutely certain that at any second, that ”father” was going to make me regret every reckless word and action.

But then—something no one expected happened.

The divine presence vanished. Just like that. The crushing weight that had been pinning me down disappeared as if it had never existed.

With the sudden release of pressure, my celestial force erupted uncontrollably, launching me skyward like a cannonball. I tore through the air, the world below shrinking in an instant, the echo of Lucine’s shocked gasp fading beneath me.

For a heartbeat, I hung there amid the clouds, gasping for breath, half-expecting the will of the world to return and finish what it started.

But there was only silence—vast, heavy, and impossibly still.

”Don’t leave, you owe me an explanation,” I yelled in both human tongue and celestial voice. Before long, I calmed down thinking, ’Who knew the Card Celestial would be so reasonable?’

If I were in the Card Celestial’s place, I wouldn’t have let things end like that. Knowing that something capable of threatening me was still out there, walking free, would’ve gnawed at me. Even if the odds of it ever being used against me again were almost nonexistent, I wouldn’t take that chance.

No, I’d make sure it was gone—utterly erased. That’s what any being with real power would do. Mercy was a luxury only the invincible could afford. I wonder if the Card Celestial was aware that it couldn’t particularly be considered invincible in the Myriad Realms. Did it ever talk with the other celestials? Did it even have friends? Or was it some kind of aloof, divine loner hovering in this corner of the Myriad Realms?

No... that didn’t seem right. Considering how deeply the dungeons were woven into its ecosystem—each one connected, thriving, and interdependent on other realms—I’d bet the Card Celestial wasn’t a recluse at all.

If anything, it probably was the social butterfly among celestials—networking through celestial channels, exchanging insights into rules source and the origin source, taking a step toward their version of transcendence.

If that weren’t the case, then I might just have to ask Dalie to reach out to the Card Celestial—to try and befriend this possible loner among the celestials. If anyone could charm a solitary celestial, it would be someone like Dalie, desperate enough for a friend to chat up even a cosmic recluse. Otherwise, Card Celestial might continue to stupidly show mercy to its enemy believing it was invincible when it was totally not.

Besides, with the coordinates I will be providing Dalie, finding it through the celestial channels would be child’s play for her. All she’d need to do was show up, smile, and start talking—and knowing Dalie, she’d keep talking until even the Card Celestial gave in and listened.

I know I should’ve been relieved that the Card Celestial had dropped the matter—that it hadn’t pursued me further for using the stake carved from the World Calamity Tree’s twig. But instead of relief, a strange unease coiled in my chest. Something about its silence didn’t sit right.

Was it really that laid-back? Or was this the calm before something worse? Did all celestials just... let things slide like this?

Before I could think further, Lucine’s voice cut through the air.

”Wyatt, what just happened?” she demanded, flying closer, her eyes wide with disbelief. ”How did you even use world’s own celestial force to clash against the world’s will? Not only that—you made it back down!”

Her tone was half awe, half panic. To her, what I’d done wasn’t just impossible—it was sacrilege. And yet, I had done it.

”I can’t believe what I just saw,” Lucine went on, not even giving me a chance to reply. Her voice trembled with lingering disbelief, yet there was a strange spark in her eyes—a kind of wild excitement pushing through the shock.

The fear that had frozen her moments ago was now replaced by a rush of awe and curiosity. It was as if witnessing something so impossible had jolted her out of reason itself.

She hovered closer, her words tumbling out in a rush. ”You—are you the chosen one? The true son of the card world?”

I ignored Lucine’s excited rambling and made my way toward Slay’s egg. My focus shifted entirely—away from the celestial and Lucine’s disbelief—to the fragile, grotesque thing that pulsed faintly with life before me.

The egg throbbed in a steady rhythm, its surface glistening with faint curse energy. As I drew closer, it gave a heavy thump, almost as if recognizing my presence. I could feel the dark, intricate weave of the thousand and twenty-four curses at work within, feeding and reshaping Slay’s essence into her new body.

I had fed her enough primordial energy. Anymore would do her no good. Primordial energy was more about qualitative change than quantitative change. Besides, with the Card Celestial around I didn’t dare to use primordial energy.

I crouched beside Slay’s egg, examining the flow of energy, making sure there were no disruptions or anomalies. I trusted the card celestial but I had to do my due diligence. Everything seemed stable. The curse nourishment was holding steady. It was enough.

Satisfied, I turned back toward Lucine, who was still talking a mile a minute, half in awe, half in confusion. Stretching out my hand, I cut her off mid-sentence.

”Lucine,” I said calmly, ”lend me your dimensional storage card.”