The unremarkable young man was none other than Baldy, competing under the alias Luther.
Luke looked up at the streak of black light. The object giving off that eerie glow was a battered, dark-gold crown.
The crown was rusted and broken, yet some mysterious force held it together. The faint black light around it confirmed that it was an ill omen.
The ominous Crown of Sin stopped two or three centimeters above Luke's head. In an instant, its black light enveloped him.
The two sides of the battlefield could not have looked more different.
On one side, the old man brimmed with life. Divine light shone across his body, and the vigor in his blood made him look reborn.
On the other, not a trace of life could be sensed from the young man beneath the ruined crown's black light. Even the area around him was steeped in the gloom of approaching death.
The contrast was so stark that the scales of victory seemed to tip toward the old man in an instant.
The old man held out a hand. The remaining cards flew up from the floor and vanished into his sleeve.
His luck today was extraordinary. He had already secured a position from which he could not lose.
Each time the old man used the Blood Talisman Curse, he gained two kinds of power: a blessing that strengthened him and a curse that suppressed his enemy.
The two powers could be distinguished by the colors of their cards.
Gold cards bestowed blessings. The old man classified them as [Proverb Type] cards.
Black cards, meanwhile, inflicted curses on his enemies. These were [Prophecy Type] cards.
The two kinds of cards strengthened him while holding his enemy back. As one rose and the other fell, a vast gap opened between