Talia shifted her gaze away from the magic card glowing with a purple aura, a trace of helplessness flashing in her eyes as she let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
It had been a long time since she last crafted a card herself—so long that she had nearly forgotten the vibrant radiance emitted by magic cards when their mana circuits activated.
The brightness of the glow during crafting and activation was often a direct reflection of a card’s power, value, and rarity.
The lowest [White (Common)] cards were ubiquitous, the most widely circulated magic cards on the market.
They were mostly utility spells, with little to no additional effects for equipment or summoned creatures.
[Blue (Rare)] magic cards, on the other hand, had fully realized and practical effects. These were meticulously crafted works, requiring stable and refined techniques to produce.
For novice Card Crafters, successfully creating a Blue (Rare) card was already a sign of exceptional talent.
Beyond that, the [Purple (Epic)] tier marked a significant qualitative shift in both value and power, placing them beyond the reach of ordinary people.
For wealthy nobles and elite combatants, Purple (Epic) magic cards weren’t just powerful—they were often essential core pieces of their battle strategies and combat systems.
Even if a Purple (Epic) card only provided minor additional effects, it could still prove unexpectedly useful in the right situations.The higher the tier, the less the general populace even knew about them.
After all, [Pink (Sacred)] magic cards were more legend than reality for most people.
In this border city at the kingdom’s edge, it was likely that not a single Sacred-tier card wielder had been seen in years.
Their rarity was not just due to their extreme scarcity, but also because binding one to a soul required immense caution.
The Nature of Magic Card Binding
Under normal circumstances, magic cards were not permanently bound after a single use.
However, the higher the rarity, the more costly it became to unbind and rebind them.
But once a card reached the [Pink (Sacred)] tier, it could no longer be freely equipped or unequipped outside of battle.
Unbinding it required a complex re-sealing process, which inflicted long-term damage to the user.
As for the [Orange (Epic)] tier—
These were the highest-ranked magic cards known to exist.
Each Epic-tier card was unique, an anchor to the world, weaving itself into history.
Once bound, even if one were willing to pay the cost, unbinding was nearly impossible.
Attempting to forcefully sever the bond would result in irreversible damage to both the user and the card itself.
The Trade-off Between Power and Flexibility
White, Blue, and Purple-tier cards were highly flexible, allowing users to swap and adapt their loadouts according to battle tactics.
However, Pink and Orange-tier cards—while significantly stronger—demanded careful, long-term commitment before binding.
Even if one had the opportunity to bind such a powerful card, they had to consider carefully whether it fit into their overall combat style.
According to ancient demonic legends, there was said to be a tier beyond Epic—
But it had been centuries since one had appeared.
Ever since the fall of the Demon Clan, all traces of such cards had become lost to history…
Lance’s Crafting Style—A Sign of Things to Come?
For someone as well-traveled as Talia, a Purple (Epic) card wasn’t particularly impressive.
She herself had crafted countless such cards before.
But what surprised her wasn’t the rarity of Lance’s card—
It was the effect he had given it.
Generally speaking, a Card Crafter’s early works often reflected their overall crafting style for the rest of their career.
And right now, Talia couldn’t begin to predict just how absurd Lance’s future creations might become.
The workshop fell into a deep silence as she pondered over these thoughts.
“……”
Seeing that she had nothing to say, Lance didn’t press her.
The gentle afternoon sunlight seeped through the clouds, casting flickering windowpane shadows on the wooden floor.
After two grueling weeks of exhausting, sleepless work, Lance finally relaxed a little.
Leaning against his chair, he felt a rare wave of drowsiness wash over him.
For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze inside the card crafting workshop, enveloping it in an unusual tranquility.
The engraving pen, alchemy pot, ink bottles—all of the tools scattered across the workbench—seemed to hum with silent whispers, as if they, too, were drifting into slumber.
Just as Lance was about to sink into a light nap, a voice—like a string plucked by the wind—snapped him back to reality.
“How old are you?”
Talia’s voice was as cold and emotionless as ever.
“Next year, I’ll turn seventeen.”
Lance lifted his head, meeting her gaze.
His carefully worded response was deliberate—
After all, he wasn’t sure if saying “sixteen” would make her suspect him of lying.
His body’s age was undoubtedly sixteen, but if he counted his past life before transmigrating, his soul’s age would be another matter entirely.
A Born Arcane Engineer?
“Then you’re not too late to start learning card crafting.”
Talia took another closer look at the boy in front of her.
Over the past two weeks, she had watched him go from complete inexperience to gradually improving.
So she was certain—Lance had never studied card crafting before.
Based on her years of wandering, traveling from the northernmost lands to the southern kingdoms, she had seen many Card Crafters in different human nations.
And aside from starting late and being low-tier, Lance could already be called a born Arcane Engineer.
A New Type of General-Use Card?
“Talia, what do you think? Do you think my magic card turned out pretty well?”
Lance’s smile remained as bright as ever.
There was no arrogance in his voice—just genuine curiosity.
He seemed completely certain that Talia was someone with great knowledge, so he was earnestly seeking her opinion.
“…If you can mass-produce it, it might become a new general-use card once it hits the market.”
After a brief silence, Talia finally responded.
The reason was simple.
Because people would want to buy it.
If this card spread into circulation, combat itself might change.
Forcing an enemy to kneel could become more important than outright victory.
And in duels, it would serve as a powerful deterrent—
A mutual warning:
“If you dare make me kneel, I can make you kneel in return.”
Even if someone didn’t plan to use it, they couldn’t afford not to own one.
Talia had to admit—
The thought of constantly guarding against this ridiculous spell in future fights made her want to strangle Lance.
But from a long-term perspective—
If human combat degenerated into chaos because of this card, it would actually benefit her cause of restoring the Demon Clan.
So she wouldn’t stop Lance from spreading this “corruption” into the human magic card system.
“I see.”
Lance studied his card—[Basic Etiquette]—a friendly smile tugging at his lips.
He turned to Talia.
“I won’t sell you this one. But I’ll make another for you. Given the success rate, it’ll probably take me a few more days—after I finish preparing for my exams.”
“How much?”
Talia asked without hesitation.
She knew that before this card hit mass circulation, its value would be at its peak.
And as the original version, it held something even more precious—
The recipe.