The proud knight, one of the Barian Emperors, had gone white-eyed, his gaze unfocused. It was as though the energy within him had been drained away along with his Life Points, and his body slowly fell backward beyond his control.
His consciousness gradually scattered, his final gaze focusing on the soft, white thing before him.
Marshmallon.
With 300 ATK and only Level 3, it was complete trash whether judged by its stats or appearance. Yet this very trash card had sealed the victory in the battle between their respective aces, the Destruction Dragon and the Chaos Number, snatching the final kill.
For a moment, a thought even surfaced in Droube's mind—perhaps it would have been a decent choice to simply give up and let the Destruction Dragon finish him off.
At least dying to a monster on the level of Gandora the Dragon of Destruction would not have felt so humiliating. It would not have given him such an urge to punch someone.
But of course, even that urge was something he could only think about.
After all, he had lost the card game. Barian possessed bodies of steel and monstrous abilities that let them tear through space, control minds, and crush missiles with their bare hands, but if they could not win at cards, everything else was meaningless.
No matter how limitless your divine power might be, no matter if you could fly through the heavens or vanish into the earth, the foundation of it all was still knowing how to play cards. If you could not win at cards, even ten thousand tons of strength would be useless. You would not even be permitted the will to "attempt to attack your opponent."
At this point, Droube was one hundred percent certain that the human before him was no