Elara stared at the closed door long after Caspian had left, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress until the fabric bunched tight. She said nothing, because she knew the truth at the heart of her family's madness: no gambler who'd lost everything ever walked away from the table quietly.
House Voss was a house of desperate men now, fraying at the edges, torn apart by infighting and reckless gambles. If not for their stranglehold on nearly three-quarters of the empire's divine card market, they would have crumbled into obscurity years ago. But even that monopoly was slipping, and Elara couldn't help but wonder: was all the power, all the gold, ever worth the cost?
Her mind drifted back to the stories her mother had told her, before the void had taken her. Once, her great-grandfather Elias Voss had been nothing but a humble cardwright, scratching out a living crafting basic divine oracle cards for minor gods. He'd saved every divine crystal he earned, slowly climbing the ranks until he'd scraped his way into the empire's third-tier noble houses.
Then came the trip that changed everything. Elias and three partners had ventured into the deepest reaches of the void, hunting for shattered divine shards. The great, intact divine realms—lands immune to the void's corrosion, steeped in primordial rule power—had long been claimed by the God-Emperors and Supreme Deities of the age. All that remained were broken fragments, but even those were worth a fortune beyond imagining.
What happened on that trip, no one in the family ever spoke of. Only Elias had returned, his clothes torn, his body half-eaten by void corrosion, his pockets stuffed to bursting with rare divine ore. He'd hired armies of miners to follow him back into the void, stripping the shard he'd found of every last resource, and poured every coin back into his card business.
With unlimited void resources and a near-empty market, Elias built an empire. House Voss became one of the most powerful names in the divine realm, and only then did he marry, build a family, and secure the legacy that now hung by a thread.
But even the largest mountain of gold will crumble if you chip away at it forever.
As their market share grew, so did their hunger for resources. Every card they made required ore mined from the void, and Elias's legendary shard was running dry. House Voss had no way to replace it, no new source of income, no plan to pivot. Worse, rival houses had caught on to the risk of relying on Voss cards, and were already racing to build their own alternatives.
Elara's nails dug into her palms, hot anger bubbling in her chest. The lords and ladies of House Voss had grown fat and arrogant, forgetting their humble roots, convinced they were born better than the rest. They sat on a dying fortune, and when the last of the shard was mined out, the whole house would come crashing down.
The door creaked open, and Caspian stepped back inside, the elven archers vanishing into the shadows behind him. He sighed, leaning against the mantel of the marble fireplace. "You have to understand, Elara. The void's riches are the only thing that can save this family. One day, you'll have to go there too, to fight for House Voss's survival."
"Like Mother did?" Elara's voice was flat, but her eyes blazed with a fury she'd spent years burying deep. "Like Mother, who was torn apart by void corrosion, screaming for days while the healers could do nothing but watch?"
Caspian's jaw tightened. He said nothing for a long moment, then changed the subject, his voice hard. "The tournament is tomorrow. You will place in the top twenty. No exceptions."
Elara scoffed. "With my current strength? I can't hit top twenty, and you know it."
"Your sister will be competing, and she will carry the family's name," Caspian said. "As for you? We've secured a new cohort of followers for you, strong enough to hold your own. Even if you can't win, you will do everything you can to force your friend Laia to show her hand." He paused, then laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Though I doubt you'll manage it. The academy's rule change tied our hands."
Elara's brow furrowed. "You've been spying on my friends now? Is there no line you won't cross? The thing that will bury House Voss won't be a dried-up divine shard—it'll be your own greedy, hypocritical faces."
Caspian smiled, cold and sharp. "Good triumphing over evil only exists in children's stories. In this world, the ends justify the means. We were born to chase profit, forged by brutal competition. And do you truly think your friend Laia is as simple as she seems? The girl who wanders the void like it's her own backyard?"
Elara's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"Remember the tournament rules? No followers with innate traits are allowed to compete." Caspian stepped forward, his voice low. "Do you know why that rule exists? Because some traits can bypass the simulation's safeguards. They don't just defeat an opponent's followers—they annihilate their souls, permanently. Even in a mock battle, restoring a trait-wounded follower costs a fortune. The headmaster added the rule to avoid a bloodbath."
Elara blinked, confused. "But you told me traits are nearly impossible to get. Gods like us—low-rank, new to our power—should never be able to touch them."
"Normally, yes." Caspian's smile turned knowing. "The trait potions we're chasing have a 90% mortality rate for fully formed followers. But what if you give the potion to a follower before they're even born? It raises the chance of an innate trait, and cuts the losses drastically. Only the wealthiest, most powerful houses in the empire can afford to do that."
Elara's blood ran cold. She stared at him, horrified. "You don't mean… you think Laia—"
"I know she does." Caspian nodded firmly. "Her core followers—those twelve overlords she keeps hidden? They have a trait. One that erases souls, that cuts through divine power like it's nothing. That's why every god who's ever stood against her has folded without a fight. She went to the void to collect more followers, strong ones without obvious traits, to fly under the academy's radar."
"But why the void?" Elara shook her head, still reeling. "Why not just breed them in her own realm?"
"Because the void is the only safe place." Caspian leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Even the most secure divine realm can be infiltrated by a god with soul authority. But the void? It scrambles direction, smothers divine senses, suppresses nearly every power. You can hide anything in the void. A secret army. A hidden divine shard. A trait that would make the empire tremble."
Elara fell silent, staring at her hands. After a long moment, she lifted her head, her voice sharp. "You've ranted for ten minutes about traits and hidden armies, and you still haven't explained why you hate Laia so much. What's your real problem with her?"
Caspian laughed, bitter and disbelieving. "Even the weakest trait potion costs more than this entire manor. To give one to a starting god's initial followers? To hunt down a race with innate soul-erasing traits? That requires a fortune beyond our wildest dreams. A level of power and influence that only the top five houses in the empire can wield. And here's the thing—there is no great house in the entire divine realm named Hayes."
Halfway across the academy grounds, Laia Hayes stumbled through the academy gates, her bag of cheese sandwiches still clutched tight to her chest, and let out a whoop of relief. She was back. No more getting lost in the void, no more almost crushing herself with a divine shard, no more creepy giant ships. She was home, just in time for the tournament.
"Boss!" A roar went up, and Kane came sprinting across the lawn, the other eleven overlords hot on his heels. They surrounded her, checking her over for injuries, their faces tight with worry. "You're back! We were about to mount a rescue mission into the void! Are you hurt? Did the void get to you?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Laia laughed, waving them off. She held up her bag, her eyes wide with panic. "First things first—did the walk-in cooler I ordered arrive? The cheddar I left in the dorm was starting to go bad, and I need fresh cheese for the tournament. I can't focus on fighting if I don't have a good sandwich."
The overlords exchanged awed looks. Of course. She wasn't just worried about food—she was laying out a strategy. The cheese was a metaphor for their realm's supply lines, a test of their ability to keep the realm running while she was gone. She was checking their discipline, making sure they were ready for the tournament's challenges.
Torin bowed his head, his golden scales glinting in the sunset. "The cooler arrived this morning, boss. We filled it with the finest cheddar in the empire, just like you like it. We also fortified the realm's western border, upgraded the starship defenses, and prepared a full battle plan for the tournament, even with the ban on us competing."
Laia blinked. "Wait, you did all that while I was gone? Nice! Though I really only cared about the cheese." She pulled the glowing golden crystal out of her pocket, turning it over in her hands. "Also, I found this weird rock thing. It's super heavy, so it'll be perfect for holding down my sandwich wrappers when the wind picks up at the shop. Oh, and I hit Rank 3 Peak! That's cool, right?"
The overlords froze, staring at the crystal. That was no rock. That was a primordial divine shard core, the heart of an ancient realm, a relic that could rewrite the very rules of the void. And their Overgod was going to use it to hold down sandwich wrappers. She was so humble, so uninterested in grand power, so focused on the small, important things. It only made them more loyal.
Kane swallowed hard, his voice reverent. "That's… incredible, boss. With that core, we could shield the entire realm from the void forever. We could push back the Abyss. We could—"
"Nah, it's just a paperweight." Laia tucked it back into her pocket, grinning. "Though I guess if it stops the void from messing with my shop's sign, that's a plus. Anyway, what's this about the tournament ban? You guys really can't compete at all?"
Torin's jaw tightened. "The academy sent a formal notice. Our void-tainted traits are deemed 'too dangerous for simulated combat.' We can't step foot in the arena. But we've prepared a backup plan. We've trained the new god-forsaken tribes you rescued, and they're ready to fight for you. They're not as strong as us, but they're loyal, and they know your tactics."
Laia groaned, slumping her shoulders. "Great. The whole world is against me. First I get lost, then I almost break my own realm, now my best workers are benched. This tournament is gonna be a nightmare."
The overlords stared at her, awestruck. She was already three steps ahead. She knew the ban was coming, she'd gone to the void to collect new followers, and now she was feigning frustration to lull her enemies into a false sense of security. She was a genius.
As the sun dipped below the academy's spires, Laia headed back to her dorm, already daydreaming about the prize money. A million gold, a full set of realm expansion tokens. Enough to build the biggest, best cheese sandwich shop the divine realm had ever seen.
She had no idea that House Voss was watching her, that they'd built an entire conspiracy around her, that they planned to use the tournament to tear her secrets open. All she cared about was winning the gold, and finally making her sandwich shop dream a reality.
And tomorrow, when the tournament began, the entire divine realm would learn just how wrong everyone was about Laia Hayes.