Side Story: GM’s Card (2)

“Eight participants, including Daidalos, the representative of Dua. This setup is perfect for a tournament.”

I checked the players who had passed the preliminaries of Duel City through the system log and summarized the results. 

This tournament was a mini-game spanning the entire 37th floor, themed around Magic and Rudera. 

The event was broadcast live across Rudera, designed to promote the popularization of e-sports.

I had modeled the game on a card game I enjoyed in my previous life. 

Using the [System], which I separated from the demon god, I succeeded in creating a system that solidified the vision of summoning creatures from cards into reality. 

I expected this would create spectacular duels that surpassed the card games I had seen in my previous life.

To attract players who were unfamiliar with card games, I offered various rewards—special classes, a large amount of Labyrinth Coins, and unique items from the Labyrinth Shop. 

Surprisingly, though, the players weren’t particularly interested in the material rewards. 

Instead, their attention was drawn to the unique cards, each produced as a one-of-a-kind item.

Initially, I thought it was because of their value as collectibles. 

However, a bizarre rumor circulated: gathering three of these cards would grant the wielder the powers of the GM. 

They believed these “God’s Cards” each contained a fragment of the GM’s trinity of divine powers, and collecting all three would allow the GM to grant any wish.

As the GM, I had no such intentions. 

But thanks to these rumors, the card game tournament gained tremendous popularity, attracting a massive influx of players to Duel City. 

I finally got to witness the kind of thrilling duels I had envisioned.

Considering its success, granting a simple wish to the winner seemed reasonable. 

After all, the ultimate prize was a wish granted by the GM. 

Knowing this would likely drive greater participation in future mini-games, it felt like a sound strategy.

However, with the tournament’s overwhelming popularity, several issues arose. 

The first problem was the emergence of players who resorted to brute force, attacking others to steal their cards. 

I had instructed them to settle disputes through card battles to advance to the finals, but some took to physically assaulting other players instead.

This issue was resolved by engraving the 37th-floor rules into the system through divine authority. 

Any player causing undue harm to others would be warned, and further violations would lead to isolation or imprisonment by the system. 

While this led to odd situations where even minor disputes were settled through duels, it surprisingly fit the city’s concept, making it more engaging.

The second problem arose when Dua and other goddesses expressed their desire to join the tournament.

“Haah…” I sighed deeply.

Like ordinary players, they misunderstood the limited-edition special cards as wish-granting items. 

They believed that winning the tournament and gathering all the cards would compel me to fulfill their wishes. 

Furthermore, they saw this as a competition for the position of my first wife.

“You’re gods! You should understand this is a misunderstanding!”

Both Dua and Cambria were already widely recognized as divine figures tied to my persona as the GM. 

If I appeared at the tournament venue, it would undoubtedly cause chaos. 

To prevent disaster, I desperately tried to dissuade them.

But their responses were… unique:

“My love, I adore you, but I cannot condone your methods of expanding your harem.”

“Albus, even with so many, you remain unsatisfied?”

“Truly, a ridiculous libertine.”

“Dad, I’m disappointed in you!”

They were furious, believing I intended to take the tournament winner as a new wife.

What nonsense! I only wanted to broadcast exciting card battles! 

Besides, how could I know whether the winner would be a man or a woman?

Left with no choice, I allowed them to participate through representatives. 

For the sake of the game’s entertainment value, I had hidden three limited-edition cards as secret treasures within Duel City. 

These cards bore engravings symbolizing the divine powers of Dua, Cambria, and myself.

As expected, Dua and Cambria quickly located their respective cards and entrusted them to their representatives. 

Both had advanced to the finals, promising intense battles ahead.

The unexpected twist lay in the player who discovered the card representing my divine power.

“I can’t believe this one found my card,” I muttered.

If the others knew about this, they’d surely accuse me of favoring this individual or desiring them as a spouse. 

It was an absurd yet oddly thrilling turn of events as the tournament progressed.

The grand colosseum built for the tournament finals buzzed with energy. 

Daidalos secured his spot in the semifinals after winning his first match in the tournament.

“I’m sorry, Cartesia,” he muttered.

Despite his affection for Cartesia’s representative, he mercilessly defeated them in the quarterfinals without leaving any opening.

“I must bring victory to my master,” he declared firmly.

For Daidalos, serving his new master had become far more important than the forbidden affections he once held.

However, as he entered the semifinals, Daidalos’s expression hardened.

“I didn’t expect to face you like this,” he said.

“Neither did I, Daidalos. This is troublesome,” replied his opponent.

Across the arena stood Leighton, a republic enforcer and subordinate under the GM’s divine faction. 

Leighton donned a gauntlet equipped with a stack of cards. 

Though Leighton was a mere human in comparison to Daidalos, their shared roles as servants of the GM fostered mutual respect, leaving no room for underestimation.

A figure likened to dragons—no, perhaps even a mockery of ancient dragons themselves—the greatest genius in the human world.

Due to his outstanding intellect and bold, threatening strategies, coupled with his status as the divine proxy of the goddess-like GM, it was clear he possessed a divine card.

“This duel is going to be the most formidable obstacle on the path to victory.”

It would not be an easy fight.

Click.

As Daidalos inserted a stack of cards into his gauntlet, the game began.

“Duel!”

The air shifted with the cry.

“Only her divine cuteness surpasses all things! Descend upon this place, my master!”

Woom.

With an incantation, Daidalos formed a hand sign. 

Divine energy surged and roared in response.

Boom!

A streak of lightning tore the sky in half, and from the void emerged the divine avatar, one aspect of the trinity—the child aspect of the GM.

A god descended.

Nuuuuong.

The child avatar, Dua.

“Waaaaaah!”

“It’s a divine card!”

“Only those recognized by the gods themselves can wield such cards!”

The audience erupted into cheers at the miraculous sight of a god descending to the battlefield.

“It’s done!”

Daidalos’s face lit up with confidence.

The divine card, a top-tier rare card, carried absurd summoning conditions but was armed with absolute resistance and overwhelming power.

Now that he had succeeded in summoning a god, victory was merely a matter of time.

“As expected of you, Daidalos. I should’ve known you’d summon a god so quickly… But even that was within my calculations!”

With a gesture, Leighton flipped a card that had been lying face down.

“That card!”

“All or Nothing!”

This extreme high-risk, high-reward card allowed the user to summon a card that matched the opponent’s but was useless if the conditions weren’t met.

“You were so sure I’d summon a god?”

“I know you too well. It’s something you’d definitely do. And since my gamble paid off, O Great Mother and Creator of All Things, Guardian of the Glorious Rudera! Descend upon this earth!”

Boom!

Once again, divine energy surged, warping the space around it. A power of a different magnitude descended.

Another divine card, this time the goddess aspect of the GM, began to manifest.

Fwoosh!

The divine energy condensed into form, revealing the appearance of Cambria.

“Impressive, my dear daughter.”

“Mother, you’re not too bad yourself.”

In the void, the two divine avatars exchanged gazes.

“Sorry, but Albus’s wish will be claimed by me, his mother.”

“No way! It’s Dua’s to take!”

BOOM!

Thus began the clash of gods.

The heavens split, and the earth quaked under the weight of the divine war.

“Aaaagh!”

“What’s happening?!”

Caught in the epicenter of this chaos, the audience could do nothing but flounder in confusion.

“…What the hell are they doing?”

Amidst the spectacle of divine entities taking on physical form to duel through their cards, Albus looked on, dumbfounded by the sight of a mother and daughter bickering.