Miracle Card Shop: All My Cards Can Be Actualize

Dark mist and shadows intertwined with the ghastly visages of the vengeful spirits as the cursed enchantments on the weapons took hold. With each strike, a spirit's soul was bound, their freedom extinguished.

In the ensuing bloodless carnage, only the agonizing screams of the spirits, mourning their lost liberty, pierced the dark alleys and leafy canopy. Wind and decaying leaves swirled in a frenzy as the shadow morphs mercilessly enslaved their victims.

Albert, the orchestrator of this scene, stood by with a smirk, reveling in the sight of his enemies' subjugation. He longed to unleash a triumphant laugh at their pitiful state but restrained himself, fearing it might further tarnish his image in his lord's eyes. He didn't want to incur his lord's ire or his suspicion, so he kept his satisfaction within what he considered moderation.

Daniel, however, paid little attention to the spectacle. He already knew of Albert's personality from the lore he had written. But that was just it - the lore. He had created Albert and the Whispering Hall as fictional entities. Yet here Albert was, existing in the real world.

According to what he gleaned from Envy, Albert should be a big bad guy who fought against the Hightower in the past. Daniel didn't know much about it… no he's oblivious of this fact, and this revelation opened another can of worms he hadn't wanted to deal with. Yet, he realized he must confront it to avoid potential disaster.

*Sigh* Daniel let out a tired breath and thought, [I'll let my future self deal with it.]

— Old Colonial District - ??? —

In a secret basement beneath the colonial district, a mage's hidden laboratory was filled with magical tools and experimental apparatus powered by mana, including lights and surveillance systems. A man stood within, nervously watching the battle in the town square unfold on a mirrored screen.

The screen displayed the ongoing enslavement of the vengeful spirits, and the man's nervousness turned to confidence as he assessed the situation. He knew the sheer number of spirits under his control, and it would be a monumental task for a mere hundred shadow morphs to enslave them all. He was certain they would eventually be overwhelmed.

But it wasn't the shadow morphs that truly bothered him. It was the presence of Daniel Emberweave, accompanying the mage. He didn't understand why Daniel had come here. As far as he knew, Daniel was a rogue mage, just like himself, but far more powerful, capable of defying and defeating the Hightower Enforcers on their own terms.

This was the extent of his knowledge regarding the outside world. His information had stopped after Daniel's resounding victory over the Hightower Enforcers, as he had gone into seclusion, nearing a breakthrough in his research on the essence of human souls.

It was this experimentation that had turned him into a rogue mage. He had once been a respected councilor under the Hightower's wing, but everything changed when the Vatican discovered his experiments and protested vehemently. They considered matters of the soul sacred and inviolable.

The Vatican threatened to unleash their secret Exterminator Unit against the Hightower, potentially escalating into a full-blown crusade. When Christopher Ward, the infamous and incorruptible Grand Paladin, was sent to apprehend him, the Hightower decided it wasn't worth the risk of antagonizing the Vatican.

Stripped of his prestige and resources, he was cast out to fend for himself. The Hightower had deemed him a liability rather than an asset, partly due to the excessive resources his experiments consumed with no end in sight.

"Tch, if it weren't for that blasted Envy forbidding me from experimenting on the living," the necromancer muttered in annoyance, reflecting on his past, "my research would have progressed far more smoothly."

But things are different now. Somehow, a vast and abundant mana font had appeared deep beneath the docks, the same area controlled by the Veneziale Gang. He didn't dare intrude on their territory, knowing they were under Daniel Emberweave's protection.

Instead, he had established his laboratory beneath this district and enslaved the souls here to dig down to the mana font, using its power to fuel his experiments. To his surprise, the font showed no signs of diminishing; in fact, it continued to grow in both volume and potency.

He had sold all his European properties and invested the wealth in procuring magical ingredients, tools, and other resources for his research. This was his final gamble, his last-ditch effort to achieve his experimental goals.

Thanks to his stubbornness, past experience, and the abundant mana font, he had succeeded. The results were magnificent, worth every sacrifice, even antagonizing the Vatican.

"Tch... Daniel Emberweave... hm... he doesn't seem to have brought any of his dangerous toys with him. No... even if he had, they would be useless against immaterial beings like these vengeful spirits," the necromancer mused, observing the screen with a calculating gaze.

His eyes turned malevolent as a smirk spread across his face. "Daniel Emberweave, I've heard you possess knowledge of Atlantean artifacts. The moment I get my hands on you, I'll extract that knowledge and make your soul my eternal slave." He was about to activate his Sanctum Sanctorum's defense mechanisms, but...

Pierce!

A bloodied hand, wrapped in bandages like a mummy's, pierced through the necromancer's back and into his chest, clutching his beating heart.

"What... h... how?" The necromancer tried to turn, but the hand retracted, ripping his heart out with it. Blood spurted from the gaping hole in his chest.

"No... I have succeeded... heh heh... I have succeeded," the necromancer gasped, his consciousness fading into darkness with a twisted smile of triumph, as if he had achieved something great despite the massive blood loss.

The owner of the bloodied, bandaged hand was Jack the Ripper, the infamous murderer of London. His eyes, burning with literal flames of resentment, shone like hellfire.

He stared at the beating heart before the bandages on his hand unfurled, revealing red flames that bled from the many wounds on his hand. Fiery tentacles emerged from the gaping hole in his palm, seizing the heart and dragging it into the abyssal wound, consuming it in the process.

The flames intensified as the heart was consumed, replenishing Jack the Ripper's mana potency and life force. This was one reason he had continued to murder and harvest mana-rich organs – they were necessary to sustain his unnatural existence.

However, since being resurrected by his lord, he found that his life force no longer dwindled. It seemed his existence was sustained by something else, something powerful, as if he had become intertwined with the natural order of the world once again. It felt like a return to how he existed before becoming this... mockery of life.

Now, he no longer needed to consume other people's organs. He would only do so if they came from mages who opposed his lord, as consuming their organs would help him regain the body he had lost in a past incident.

Now that the enemy of his lord lies dead, it's time for Jack to contact Albert, his cooperator. Jack brings a tablet out and typing his message in and reports to Albert that he had killed the Necromancer, and the spell that binds the vengeful soul should be undone soon.

Jack then explored the lab, knowing that a mage's lab is a treasure trove of both material and knowledge wealth. He found rare magical ingredients, materials, and faded ancient tomes. The trip proved profitable, as he discovered many valuable items.

As for the disturbing experiments scattered around, Jack had grown accustomed to such sights since his transformation. After plundering the lab, he categorized the resources and wealth he found at the front entrance, following his lord's organization's protocol.

Others would come later to clean up, and he was even allowed to keep some shiny trinkets for himself without including them in the categorized loot.

However, after more than 10 minutes, the battle above showed no signs of ending, perplexing Jack. He reexamined the necromancer's corpse and confirmed that it had been dead for over ten minutes. Medically speaking, the brain should have ceased functioning by now.

Jack waited in the lab, checking his wristwatch. Another 10 minutes passed, but the spell remained unbroken despite the necromancer's death. What was happening?

Albert then sent a message, asking Jack to check the lab again in case something had gone wrong.

Jack quickly investigated and discovered that the ley lines within the lab were connected to the massive underground mana font. To his astonishment, instead of being broken by the necromancer's death, the connection had grown stronger!

In fact, the opposite had occurred. The ley lines, the mana flow, and all the spells engraved within the lab had intensified since the necromancer's demise.

Jack looked at the necromancer's corpse once more. This was the mage's Sanctum Sanctorum, and he had no idea what kind of curses or traps the necromancer had set. He needed to get out of there immediately!

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