After returning to the flower shop and finishing dinner, Ron used the storage room to travel to the Royal Capital and went to find Kiel.
After briefing Kiel on the upcoming promotional plans, Ron looked at him expectantly.
Because he knew—Kiel, this business genius, would definitely refine his ideas, and might even take them further with even better strategies.
"Your Eminence Ron," Kiel began, "I have a small, not fully developed suggestion."
Ron nodded slightly, signaling him to continue.
"Previously, when Miss Nora was coordinating with me, she mentioned the concept of 'special edition Elementia Cards.' That was your idea, correct?"
"Yes, I did mention it. Is there a problem?" Ron nodded, though his mind suddenly drifted back to the first time he met Kiel.
Back then, the two didn't know each other yet, and in the back of Illya's classroom, they had struck a deal involving the Illya Special Edition Illustration Booklet.
He still remembered it vividly.
Naturally, Kiel had no idea what Ron was thinking and continued, "I was thinking—when the Magic Battle Arena opens, could we release a special edition Elementia Card?"
"There's no need to remake the entire deck. Just pick one popular card and redesign its artwork."
"The card would function the same, but the illustration would be more refined and visually appealing—making it suitable for collection."
"We could sell it for a limited time on opening day, along with a lottery event. Any visitor to the Magic Battle Arena would have a chance to obtain one."
Ron listened, momentarily stunned.
Isn't this just… skins?
When he had first mentioned special edition Elementia Cards, he hadn't thought much about it.
Yet Kiel had taken it further and turned it into such a delightfully ruthless monetization tactic.
"Sounds good. I like it," Ron said with a smile, despite inwardly despising such methods. "Do you have any recommendations? Which card should we use for the launch event?"
"If possible, I'd suggest the Elemental God Elementia card," Kiel replied directly. "First, it's a character card, which makes it more visually expressive."
"Second, the Elemental God Elementia is depicted as a young female figure, which strongly appeals to the Magic Duel audience."
"We can even use the new artwork directly in promotional materials to maximize impact."
"What do you think?"
I think that's diabolical.
Ron mentally gave Kiel a thumbs-up.
"Let's go with your idea," Ron instructed. "Find an artist and create a new illustration of the Elemental God Elementia at the same scale as the card. Change the hairstyle, makeup, clothing—everything."
"Make several design variants. Once they're ready, bring them to me—I'll personally choose."
"No problem," Kiel replied, then hesitated slightly. "But will the timeline be too tight?"
"To produce something refined and high-quality, it'll take at least a day or two. And the Magic Battle Arena opens in three or four days, right?"
"Will production keep up?"
Ron waved his hand. "Don't worry about that. Since it's a limited-time sale, production won't be an issue."
At worst, he could go all-in with his 40+ square meters of cultivation space and dedicate it entirely to growing Chameleon Radish.
In just a day or two, if he really pushed production, he could produce hundreds of thousands of cards.
After all, a single Chameleon Radish yielded over a hundred cards. With accelerated time in the cultivation space, mass production was ridiculously easy.
Of course, this came at the cost of halting the cultivation of other plants, so it wasn't sustainable long-term.
Unless one day, he could casually unlock thousands of square meters of cultivation space.
Given how the system kept raising prices, that would probably only happen when he was old and gray…
After giving a few more instructions, Ron left Kiel and rode his carriage toward Moonview Street by Lake Impash.
The carriage stopped at the intersection of Aile Street and Moonview Street.
Ron stepped down and stood in front of a storefront.
This six-story building was one of the three shops he had acquired for free earlier. Located right at a corner, it had heavy foot traffic—actually a good candidate for the Magic Battle Arena.
However, Central Street of Peace Square ran through the heart of the Royal Capital and was the liveliest area at night, making that location far more suitable.
As for this Moonview Street property, Ron already had a plan—
To demolish and rebuild it into a dedicated Magic Duel arena!
This would be fundamentally different from the Magic Battle Arena on Central Street.
That venue mainly served as a gathering place for Magic Duel enthusiasts, providing plenty of tables and seating.
Even the largest "工"-shaped duel tables on each floor could only accommodate about twenty to thirty spectators at most.
Any more would feel crowded.
Clearly, that wouldn't meet the main quest requirement of "1,000 spectators."
Even if that many people showed up, there simply wouldn't be space for them—that was the real problem.
So this Moonview Street property had to take on that critical role.
Ron planned to tear down the entire building and rebuild it.
The structure would resemble a cinema: a stage at the front for competitors, and tiered seating below for the audience.
With six floors, the top floor would be entirely dedicated to a large stage and audience area—the biggest space, reserved for semifinals and finals.
The lower five floors would be divided into rooms of varying sizes for different stages of the tournament—preliminaries, early rounds, eliminations, round robins, and so on.
Each room would host a single match but accommodate different audience sizes.
This way, multiple matches could run simultaneously while still allowing a large number of spectators to attend.
If the Magic Battle Arena was for playing, then Moonview Street would be for watching.
Of course, some might ask—why not just rent the Royal Capital's grand martial arena to host the event?
To be fair, that was a viable option.
For Ron, money wasn't an issue, and neither was status.
Renting it during a less important time slot was entirely possible.
But the cost-effectiveness was terrible.
Leaving aside whether tens of thousands of spectators would even show up, the arena itself was enormous.
And Magic: The Gathering didn't require that much space.
He didn't have any holographic projection technology to make the spells visually manifest.
It wasn't like he could hire a few Legendary-tier experts just to put on a fireworks show for a card game.
If he couldn't do that, the audience would just squint in confusion, staring at two tiny figures on the field—like figurines—gesturing at each other.
And all they could rely on was the commentator describing the action.
Just imagining it felt absurd.