My Deck Is Made Up Of OP Anime Characters

The acrid stench of corruption assaulted Azrael's senses the moment he materialized within the [Night Banquet] secret realm. The air itself felt heavy with decay, carrying undertones of rot and something far more sinister that made his stomach clench involuntarily.

Dark storm clouds churned overhead in an endless canopy of gloom, making it impossible to determine whether day or night reigned in this twisted dimension. The perpetual twilight cast everything in sickly shadows that seemed to writhe and pulse with malevolent life.

"The court really couldn't be bothered to clean up this godforsaken environment," Crowley complained beside him, pressing his sleeve against his nose and mouth in a futile attempt to filter the putrid air.

Azrael frowned but remained silent, his analytical mind already cataloging potential threats and tactical considerations. The oppressive atmosphere spoke of powerful necromantic energies, exactly what he'd expect from a realm that produced venue materials related to death and resurrection.

Several Lore Cardians stationed within the secret realm approached them with measured steps, their leader, a man whose spiritual pressure marked him as at least Gold-level, wearing an expression of carefully controlled deference.

"Young Master Crowley," the leader began with a respectful bow, "it's not that the Imperial Court lacks the desire to purify this realm, but venue material production sites are extraordinarily delicate. Any significant environmental alterations could permanently disrupt the dimensional resonances that generate these rare resources. Please understand our position."

Azrael studied the exchange with growing interest. Who exactly is this Crowley? he wondered, noting how even a Gold-level Lore Cardian showed such pronounced respect. The power dynamics at play suggested connections that transcended normal bureaucratic hierarchies.

Crowley waved dismissively, his casual gesture somehow managing to convey both authority and disdain. "If my father hadn't insisted I personally collect these materials, you think I'd willingly set foot in this cesspit?"

The facility commander's smile remained fixed despite the obvious insult. "Young Master Crowley's dedication to family obligations is truly admirable."

Producing a detailed map from his jacket, the man spread it between them with practiced efficiency. "This chart displays the complete layout of [Night Banquet]. Please select your preferred operational areas."

His gaze shifted to include Azrael in the briefing. "I trust both gentlemen are familiar with welfare secret realm protocols, so I'll spare you the repetitive explanations."

Azrael nodded his understanding. The rules were standard across all controlled realms, maintain at least one-third of the monster population in any given area to ensure sustainable regeneration cycles. Overharvesting could permanently damage a realm's productivity.

As if sensing Azrael's attention, Crowley turned with an expression of exaggerated courtesy. "Azrael, why don't you choose first? I insist."

Faced with such apparent magnanimity, Azrael saw no reason to refuse. After studying the terrain features and monster distribution patterns, he selected a southern region that appeared rich in undead concentrations while maintaining reasonable proximity to the core production zone.

"I'll take this area," he decided, marking his selection clearly.

Crowley accepted the map with casual indifference, barely glancing at the details before pointing randomly at a distant sector. "This one will suffice for my purposes."

The facility commander bowed again, deeper this time. "We'll withdraw to avoid interfering with your operations, Young Master Crowley."

Without further ceremony, the entire administrative group retreated toward the realm's exit portal, leaving the two young men alone in the corrupted landscape.

Azrael was preparing to summon Pidgeot when Crowley's voice cut through his thoughts with deceptive friendliness.

"I assume Azrael is here for the venue materials as well?" Crowley's smile never wavered, but something predatory flickered behind his eyes. "After all, as Master Lucian's distinguished disciple, such resources would naturally align with your developmental needs."

Though Crowley's words carried the surface appearance of casual conversation, Azrael detected an undertone of mockery that set his nerves on edge. "You require these materials as well, I presume?"

Crowley sighed theatrically, his expression shifting to one of exaggerated regret. "Unfortunately, yes. What a terrible coincidence, don't you think?"

His demeanor brightened suddenly, as if struck by inspiration. "But I have a proposal that might resolve our mutual dilemma. Why don't we each clear our respective areas thoroughly, then meet at the core production zone where the [Return of the Dead] materials manifest?"

"We can settle the matter with a proper duel. Winner takes this year's allocation."

Azrael considered the suggestion carefully. On the surface, it seemed reasonable, even sporting. Both parties would demonstrate their capabilities fairly before competing for the prize. Still, something about Crowley's eagerness made him cautious.

"Very well," Azrael agreed after a moment's deliberation. "I accept your proposal."

Crowley's eyes flashed with something that might have been satisfaction, though it vanished so quickly Azrael wondered if he'd imagined it. "Azrael's confidence is truly admirable! I'll begin with my designated area then."

"May the best Lore Cardian prevail."

Watching Crowley summon his mount and depart toward his chosen sector, Azrael remained motionless for several seconds, his instincts screaming warnings that his rational mind couldn't yet articulate.

Deep within the cave system of his selected zone, Crowley's facade crumbled the moment he was certain of his privacy.

"Pathetically easy to manipulate," he muttered with undisguised contempt, his cultured mask replaced by cold calculation. "Can someone with such naive thinking really be worthy of Master Lucian's personal instruction?"

"The [Return of the Dead] material is already mine."

Crowley approached the mouth of a particularly ominous cavern, its depths radiating the kind of necromantic energy that marked significant venue material deposits. According to his intelligence, this specific location housed the core generation matrix for the entire realm's production cycle.

Just as he prepared to enter the cave and claim his prize through deception, brilliant lightning erupted from the storm clouds above, striking the ground directly in front of him with devastating force.

"Hadō #4: Byakurai."

The crackling discharge was immediately followed by the heavy impact of something large landing behind him. Crowley spun around, his casual confidence evaporating as he processed the scene before him.

A massive humanoid creature of writhing black and red biomass dominated his field of vision, its alien features radiating predatory menace that made Crowley's survival instincts scream warnings. Beside the monster stood a woman of deceptive gentleness, her twin braids and serene expression completely at odds with the supernatural power radiating from her form.

"Memphis," came an overlapping voice that seemed to resonate from multiple sources, "that wasn't very sporting of you."

Crowley's surprise lasted only moments before transforming into his characteristic smile, though this time it carried an edge of genuine respect. "As expected of Azrael. I should have known you wouldn't fall for such an obvious ploy."

"Impressive deduction skills."

Azrael's response carried undisguised contempt for Crowley's attempted manipulation. "It would have been pathetic if I couldn't see through such a transparent trick."

The truth was, Azrael had never intended to honor their supposed agreement. The moment Crowley departed, he'd made directly for the core production zone where the venue materials actually manifested. His primary objective had always been those specific resources, everything else was secondary.

Crowley's background might be impressive enough to intimidate government functionaries, but Azrael doubted anyone in the Empire of Aetherlight possessed greater influence than Master Lucian. His teacher's reputation and connections provided him with protection that transcended normal political considerations.

More importantly, cutting directly to the source prevented Crowley from implementing whatever underhanded scheme he'd been planning. Catching his opponent in the act of cheating eliminated any pretense of honorable competition.

"At this point, there's nothing left to discuss, is there?" Azrael's merged voice carried cold finality. "It seems we'll have to settle this through combat after all."

Crowley's frozen expression lasted only seconds before he shrugged with apparent nonchalance. "Indeed we will. Though a straightforward battle seems rather... mundane."

Azrael frowned at the unexpected response. "What exactly are you proposing?"

He braced himself for suggestions of no-holds-barred combat or lethal conflict, scenarios he would absolutely refuse given the surveillance equipment monitoring their every move. Their dispute, while serious, didn't warrant risking his life or reputation.

But Crowley's actual proposal caught him completely off guard.

"Why don't we create cards on the spot and use those new creations for our duel?" Crowley suggested with growing enthusiasm. "I'll provide all the necessary materials for both of us."

"After all, if our primary cards enter cooldown periods, it would significantly complicate our harvest operations in this realm later."

Azrael stared in amazement as Crowley produced several sets of premium crafting materials from his storage space, each one radiating the distinctive energy signatures of Silver-tier components.

Where did this incredibly generous benefactor come from? Azrael thought with genuine incredulity. He's literally offering to sponsor our competition with his own resources.

His previous negative assessment of Crowley underwent immediate revision. Perhaps the young man was simply misunderstood, a victim of political pressures and family expectations that had driven him to desperate measures.

Still, caution demanded verification of this unexpected generosity. "Won't your family object to such... liberal use of valuable materials?"

Crowley appeared completely unconcerned by the prospect of parental disapproval. "At worst, I'll report that the card creation attempts failed. Such things happen even to experienced makers."

Failed creation attempts consumed materials without producing results, a convenient explanation that no one could challenge without seeming unreasonable. After all, even Master-level Lore Cardians occasionally experienced failures when working with experimental components.

The excuse also served Crowley's broader strategic needs. If this encounter escalated beyond manageable parameters, those materials represented both silence money and compensation for the disrupted agreement. For the Wu family's vast wealth, a set of Silver-tier components was essentially pocket change.

More importantly, Crowley had been developing creation concepts for these specific materials for months. Compared to Azrael, who was seeing them for the first time, he possessed overwhelming preparational advantages.

Supervisor Lin is definitely going to receive some harsh feedback for his scheduling incompetence, Crowley thought with cold satisfaction. The facility commander's attempt to avoid offending either party had backfired spectacularly, leaving him vulnerable to retribution from both sides.

Fence-sitters often suffered the worst fates in political conflicts.

Despite his internal machinations, Crowley maintained his friendly exterior as he addressed Azrael directly. "So, Azrael, do you accept my proposal?"

"Though I would appreciate your discretion regarding the specific details of our encounter here."

Faced with such an unprecedented opportunity, free premium materials and a chance to expand his capabilities, Azrael saw no reason to refuse.

"I would be honored to accept your generous offer," he replied with genuine gratitude.

As both young men began examining the provided materials, each confident in their ability to outmaneuver the other, the corrupted realm around them seemed to pulse with anticipation. The [Night Banquet] had hosted many conflicts over the years, but rarely had the stakes been quite so personal, or the participants quite so dangerous.