All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Book 3: Chapter 39: Dungeon End

Several things occurred to Arthur at the same time. The first was that he was now convinced he had seen Laird pluck the card out of his own Personal Space. This was not a combat card, and there was no way Brixaby would have missed it while perusing the shelves. This also meant that while Arthur had been discussing cards with Cressida and Joy, Laird could have easily been plucking ideal cards for his own dragons from the shelf and shoving them into his Personal Space.

Arthur and Brixaby hadn't exactly counted the cards before letting everybody out.

And the last thing, of course, was that Arthur very, very much wanted this card. Yes, it had some significant drawbacks once used, but that was the nature of a high-quality, but low-ranked card. They tended to be double-edged swords.

Best of all, he could add it to his card anchor and not his heart deck, saving himself valuable space.

Arthur hoped he didn't let any of the greed he felt cross his face.

“Yes,” he said calmly, as if his heart wasn't beating rapidly in his chest, “I think that this card will work nicely.”

“I suspected as much,” Laird said, which brought Arthur to the last point. If Laird was giving Arthur a card out of his own personal stash... why? What did he think he could gain?

He set that question aside for now. Slipping the new card into his card anchor, he dismissed the notification that asked which attribute he wanted to add 20 points to. He could only use that feature once a day. Best to save it.

“Now that's all settled, let's divide up the remaining cards,” Arthur said, “I intend to bring out as many as I can—I don't think that the council will give us a second try at this dungeon.”

Laird's dark chuckle told him he was correct.

“Everybody, go through the cards, and set aside anything minimally or completely useless,” Arthur continued.

These were all combat cards, but it didn't mean that they were all great combat cards. For example, he saw a card that turned chicken feathers into... chicken feather-shaped swords. The conjured swords were incredibly sharp, but it wasn't practical. He'd only bring cards like that out if he had room to spare.

“Hey, I have a question,” Joy said, “how do we get out of here?”

Arthur looked around, and so did everybody else. He hadn't realized it until now, but there was no door leading to the outside.

For a moment, Arthur was flummoxed.

Shadow spoke up. “I sense a dark mass of shadow beyond that wall," he used his tail to point back to the direction where they had entered the room. “I suspect it's a false wall. Probably one last trap to keep in those the council didn't want entering in the first place.”

“Pretty sneaky,” Joy said, “but after a while, anybody trapped in here would try everything to get out. So it wouldn't stop us for long.”

Shadow merely shrugged and then looked away, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“What do you think the council will do once they discover our theft?” Cressida asked.

“Likely launch an investigation,” Laird said. "Thankfully, we don't have card users who specialize in forensics. That's been a problem when we have occasional crimes committed with no firm suspects.”

Arthur remembered Dashi, one of the first dragons he had ever met. Between his and his rider’s linked cards, he could look back through time and project an illusion showing what had happened at the point of a crime. It wasn’t a powerset useful at hunting scourgelings, so he had been sent around different towns on the outskirts of the kingdom to solve problems and build up goodwill for the hives. He certainly made an impression on Arthur as a young boy.

“And,” Laird continued, with distinct satisfaction in his tone, “the council will likely put me in charge.”

“The fox guarding the hen house?” Cressida asked, in surprise. “Won't they be suspicious when your dragons appear with new combat abilities?”

“Child,” Laird said heavily, “I'm not like you who plans to give out cards willy-nilly. My wing riders will be carefully chosen for discretion.”

“You might be glad we did,” Arthur said quietly, “combat cards will be needed soon.”

Laird gave him a hard look. “Are you certain about that?”

Arthur nodded. “As certain as I can be.”

He just wished that he wasn't.

Arthur had previously emptied the contents of his Personal Space back in the final wave of the dungeon to fit Laird in there. He didn't think that he was essentially hoarding junk like Cressida and Joy had joked... but he did have a lot of items he hadn't touched since he originally stored them.

The only things that he kept were small, light, and important. The purple apples as well as a host of other herbs and magical components he had managed to scrape together, along with a few choice weapons and tools, including some empty leather satchels in case he found more. Oh, and the chicks and turkey poults. A few books, of course. An extra set of clothing including a thick coat, a few emergency meals and some skins of water, his basic first-aid, a length of rope, and his spare bedroll. And a few other–minor!-- items here and there. That was all.

So, his Personal Space was about as empty as it could be. Even so, he was able to fit almost two hundred cards in there.

Unlike storing Laird and Shadow, the problem wasn't size. It was the magical weight of each card. Eventually, Arthur started to feel like he had eaten an overly large meal. The feeling of discomfort—of being overly full—only grew more acute as he added card after card. Eventually, he could only add the Commons, and then, it became too much to do even that.

“I'm done,” he said, bending down to rest his weight on his knees and panting.

“My turn,” Brixaby said. He started to shove a card into his Personal Space, but then stopped, wincing, and then looked at the card—an Uncommon – as if it had betrayed him.

“Full?” Arthur asked.

"It appears so. I access my Personal Space through your card, but it seems like there is a limit.”

Arthur let out a breath. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be like that. We both have our own Personal Spaces…”

"Yes, but your magical weight is a different thing entirely,” Laird said, “if I shoved fifty cards into this rune net, it would unravel as if I had shoved in a ton of brickwork and then tried to fly around with it. Or more than one Rare pair,” he added, looking at Joy. “You are both heavy.”

Joy ignored that. “So, how did you steal that noble's library?” she asked, cocking her head. “I'm pretty sure that's what you guys did right before you kidnapped us, remember?”

“Those were specialized nets.” Laird flicked his tongue out in distaste. “And obviously well-guarded by the rest of the council. I couldn't very well take off with one of those nets without raising suspicion.”

Arthur frowned at the shelves still full of cards. He hated to leave so many behind, but couldn’t think of another solution.

“Okay, Cressida, if you have any room in your card anchor, grab a card or two, otherwise... I think we're done here.” He looked around and didn't see any objections. It was time to go. If people noticed their absence, it would raise the suspicions of the council.

Arthur had no idea how much time had passed on the outside. A search might have been launched for them already.

Well, at least I get to try out my new stealth skills, he thought, dryly. Getting back to the hive without raising suspicion will be fun.

But if they managed it… he was looking forward to experimenting with his new cards. For the first time, he had some solid ways to defend himself. While he still wasn’t entirely combat-focused… it made for a nice change.

And he couldn’t wait to see the looks on Cressida and Joy’s faces when he surprised them with the other cards he and Brix had picked out.

As Shadow had said, the back wall was not real. Joy easily tore through it with her claws to expose another few feet of space beyond, and a bright-lit exit.

While it seemed there was a restriction on more than one person coming in, nobody had bothered to create one upon leaving.

Without thinking, Arthur strode forward through the exit first.

He fully expected to be half-blinded by bright desert light. Instead, he was greeted by darkness and a star-filled sky. It was still night. Could it be that all the fighting had only taken a few hours? Or had time passed differently inside the dungeon?

But he couldn’t dwell on it for long. He wasn’t alone.

Several large dragons stood sentinel around the dungeon entrance. Arthur didn't recognize any of them.

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