Miracle Card Shop: All My Cards Can Be Actualize

Chapter 112 Magitek VS Grand Paladin 1

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Suddenly, a door swung open, and Daniel's hunter instincts kicked in as he swiftly grabbed hold of his large-caliber handgun, which appeared in his hand from its holster. With the safety off, he pointed the weapon at the uninvited guest who had entered the room.

To his surprise, the intruder turned out to be one of the Veneziale men, who had hurriedly entered and now stood frozen at the sight of the firearm in Daniel's grip.

"Er…." The Veneziale man attempted to speak but was clearly intimidated by the gun.

Realizing that the newcomer posed no threat, Daniel swiftly holstered his weapon, his warning still lingering in the air.

"Next time, knock before entering. Otherwise, you might find a new breathing hole in your head." Daniel's voice carried a stern caution as he addressed the Veneziale man.

[Yeah, I'm afraid my head would end up as mashed potatoes rather than just having a new breathing hole, given the size of that caliber in your handgun.] The man retorted silently in his mind, but he didn't dare to voice his thoughts aloud, afraid that he would get beat up by Daniel.

"Mr. Magitek! Look outside!" The man shouted, suddenly remembering the reason for his visit.

Startled, Daniel turned toward the window and opened it, revealing a breathtaking scene. A pillar of light descended from the heavens, illuminating the surroundings with such intensity that it felt like high noon even in the late evening. A crowd had gathered outside, gazing in awe at this phenomenon.

"Shit!" Daniel cursed, realizing the gravity of the situation. If this continued, he would violate the taboo of the Curtained World himself.

"Molly, can you make your wings disappear?" Daniel asked, his voice urgent.

Molly, still bewildered, looked at her angelic white wings and concentrated on concealing them. Slowly, her wings transformed into particles of light and vanished. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that they couldn't afford to attract attention while Molly still possessed her angelic wings.

"Uncle Murphy, do you have any belongings you need to take with you? Keep it light. We have to leave now," Daniel said solemnly, addressing a stunned and confused Murphy.

"What? Are you telling me that resurrection is forbidden among mages? Well, let me tell you, lad, I won't let anyone separate my daughter from me again!" Murphy declared with unwavering determination, clutching his daughter's hand and pulling her protectively behind him.

"It's something like that. There's no time to explain. We need to go, now!" Daniel urged.

"Lead the way. All I ever wanted is Molly," Murphy replied, leaving behind any personal belongings and wholeheartedly agreeing to follow Daniel's lead.

Daniel nodded and guided Murphy toward the apartment parking lot. His heart raced with a hunter's instinct, urging him to escape quickly. The longer they stayed, the more agitated his instincts became.

In the parking lot, just outside the entrance of the apartment, a crowd stood mesmerized by the celestial phenomenon in the sky, oblivious to Daniel's group hastening towards their car. The Veneziale men opened the passenger door for Murphy and his daughter. However, before Molly could find safety within the confines of the armored and bulletproof limo, a hoarse and disdainful voice cut through the air.

"Is that the abomination you've created, a fusion of man and heaven, mage?" The voice carried a stern and unsympathetic tone.

Daniel turned his gaze toward the source of the voice and saw the priest in the black trench coat. It was the emblem of a Christian cross on the cross key adorning the right side of his cassock-like shirt that caught Daniel's attention.

A blade scar marred his left eye, adding a rugged edge to his appearance. His eyes, sharp and piercing like those of an eagle, seemed to mirror his disdain. Streaks of white intertwined with his short black hair, accentuating his temples, while a hint of stubble on his face hinted at his seasoned warrior-like demeanor, as if he had endured countless battles.

"A priest?" Daniel exclaimed, unaware of the significance of the emblem on the right side of the priest's black trench coat.

"As expected of a legal heretic, you don't even know who we are. Do you have any idea what you've done, mage?" The priest's voice dripped with contempt and scorn, his face twisted with disdain as if Daniel and Molly were nothing but a disgrace to God's creation.

Daniel sensed the priest's malicious intent and quickly signaled Molly and Murphy with his eyes, urging them to enter the car swiftly.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, the father and daughter wasted no time and hurried into the vehicle. But at that very moment, a flying short sword aimed straight for Molly's throat. Daniel swiftly deflected the blade with his knife, the clash of metal ringing through the air.

Clank!!

"Go to the base and activate the red alarm! Don't worry about me!" Daniel ordered the Veneziale men, who nodded in response and quickly took their positions in the driver's seat. Ignoring the nearby vehicles, they slammed their foot on the pedal, propelling the car forward with sheer force.

The armored limo plowed through rows upon rows of parked cars in the parking lot, its impenetrable exterior undented by the impact. It crashed through the cement fence of the apartment complex, hurtling onto the road without any delay.

Realizing his target was making a swift escape, the priest immediately gave chase, effortlessly surpassing the crowd with inhuman speed. Sensing the urgency of the situation, Daniel's mind delved into his mindscape, swiftly activating a card to enhance his own abilities.

Card: Unnatural Speed

Picture: The artwork showcases a man racing ahead, leaving a streak of lightning in his wake.

Rarity: Common

Type: Instant Spell

Mana Cost: 1 Fire, 1 Generic

Description: The target creature gets +1/+1 and gains Haste until end of turn.

Flavor text: The speed of light may be unattainable, but outrunning a simple fireball or magic bolt is child's play.

In a matter of seconds, Daniel catches up to the priest's supernatural speed, reaching the rooftop of a nearby building overlooking the road. A sly smirk forms on the priest's face as he swiftly hurls a barrage of blessed shortswords towards the armored limo, expecting them to easily pierce through its defenses.

Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank!

To his astonishment, the limo's roof remains unscathed, displaying only a few faint white scratches. The priest is taken aback by the car's unexpected durability. He had been confident that his blessed shortswords, forged in the sacred confines of the Vatican Cathedral and blessed at the angelic altar within, would effortlessly tear through any mundane-world armor. Yet, all they managed to do was leave mere scratches on the limo's surface.

"What in God's name is that armor?" the priest exclaims in shock, preparing his next set of shortswords. If he couldn't destroy the limo from a distance, he would utilize the full force of his blessed body, consecrated by divine beings.

"That, my dear priest, is Atlantean Steel!" Daniel smirks, taking aim with his gun at the priest's head.

Bang!

A deafening gunshot resonates as a large caliber bullet, forged with a blend of pure silver and orichalcum, hurtles toward the priest's skull.

However, in a split second, the priest raises both arms, using them to shield himself along with his array of shortswords.

Clank!! Splash!!

The barrage of shortswords shatters into fragments of metal, scattering across the rooftop. The priest's two arms bear the brunt of the bullet, with his left arm barely holding on by a thread of muscle, and a gaping hole piercing through his right arm.

Remarkably, the priest doesn't emit a single grunt of pain. He gazes at his now useless arms, then shifts his attention to the rapidly retreating armored limo.

Daniel, however, doesn't rush to end the priest's life. He recognizes that engaging in dialogue might be a more prudent course of action, considering the potential consequences of provoking whoever supports the priest.

"Have you calmed down, or would you like a few more bullet injections before we can talk?" Daniel's voice drips with contempt.

The priest remains silent, his gaze fixed upon Daniel, who keeps his gun trained on the priest's head. Suddenly, the priest closes his eyes, and a radiant white light emanates from his body. Miraculously, his two arms begin to heal themselves, rejuvenating until they appear brand new.

"Is that healing magic?" Daniel asks, astonishment lacing his words as he observes the priest's miraculous recovery.

"Don't measure our capabilities with your heretical knowledge! It is God's miracle, not mere magic!" The priest retorts with contempt and scorn, readying a fresh set of shortswords.

Daniel notices that the shortswords materialize in the priest's hand, as if he possesses some form of magical storage within his body.

"It seems you possess spatial storage artifacts on you," Daniel remarks, preparing his combat knives in his left hand while keeping his gun aimed at the priest's head with his right hand.

The priest bends down and retrieves the bullet from the ground, examining it closely with a mixture of surprise and admiration. As his eyes scan the intricate details on the damaged bullet's head, his astonishment becomes apparent. The flawless combination of blessed silver and orichalcum is a testament to its craftsmanship. This bullet possesses the ability to effortlessly penetrate mage mana shields and obliterate unholy creatures such as vampires or other creatures of the night.

"Remarkable craftsmanship," the priest remarks, his tone devoid of disdain or sarcasm. "So, you are the Magitek who has been challenging the heretical societies as of late. Your expertise could be of great service to God."

"Sorry, 'priest,' but I'm an atheist," Daniel retorts with a disdainful smirk.

Rather than becoming angry, the man in the trench coat regards Daniel in a new light upon discovering his identity as a Magitek.

"I am not a priest," he clarifies, tucking the damaged bullet into his pocket. With his left hand, he readies another set of short swords. "My name is Christopher Ward, the Grand Paladin of the Vatican Secret Exterminator Unit." Introducing himself, his eyes reflect not contempt, but rather unwavering devotion and determination.