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The man who'd come to greet them wore a tailored suit that struggled to contain its occupant. Every seam was fighting for its life. The fabric didn't drape so much as stretch, and anyone with eyes could tell that beneath the professional attire lay a physique that belonged on a boxing poster, not behind an administrative desk.
Even Luke did a double take. This man could probably skip the card spirits and just punch the competition to death.
"Ah, my apologies. We got carried away." Harrison and Grant had the decency to look sheepish. The Capital Association headquarters was located in the city center, and two delegations clogging the entrance had drawn more attention than was appropriate.
Both men recovered in seconds. When you'd been alive for centuries, embarrassment had a very short shelf life.
"Everyone, this is Roland Hargrove. Vice President of the Capital Association."
Hargrove. The surname rippled through both delegations. In any other city, it might pass without comment. In Ashenmere, the Hargrove name was practically synonymous with power. Edmund Hargrove, Immortal Realm, president of the Capital Association. If Roland shared that surname and held the vice presidency, the family connection was obvious.
The mood shifted. Every team member straightened up a fraction more. In their mental hierarchy, Roland Hargrove had just slotted in above Harrison and Grant.
"Come in. Most of the other teams have already arrived. You two are nearly the last ones through the door." Roland turned and led the group inside, his tone warm but efficient.
In a moment when no one else was watching, Roland's gaze swept briefly across Luke. The look lasted less than a second, but it carried weight.
His father Edmund had told him about Luke. Privately. With explicit instructions to keep the information contained. An Original Card crafter. A Commander Realm student who'd produced two Original Six-Star cards and destroyed a Black Gate.
It was hard to believe, looking at the kid. Young. Unassuming. Nothing about his appearance screamed "generational talent." But Roland had learned long enough ago to stop judging Card Masters by their exteriors.
Nine-Star Commander. One step below Leader Realm. One step below Elise.
Roland ran the comparison automatically. His daughter had reached Leader Realm, the only pre-exam student in the Capital to do so. It was a genuine achievement. But Roland understood, better than most, how much that achievement had cost.
Elise had grown up in the Hargrove household. Unlimited access to materials. A Sovereign Realm father providing guidance. An Immortal Realm grandfather ensuring resources never ran dry. The accumulated wealth and connections of one of Ashenmere's most prominent families had been funneled into her development since childhood.
Luke had none of that. An ordinary background. No family connections. No resource pipeline. And he was one step behind Elise.
If you put Elise in Luke's position, stripped away the Hargrove name and everything it provided, Roland wasn't confident she'd have reached the same level.
No wonder Father told Elise to make contact. For her sake, this might be a once-in-a-millennium connection.
Still. As a father, Roland leaned toward his own daughter in a direct comparison. Luke was impressive. But Elise was his. And the gap between Nine-Star Commander and Leader Realm was real, regardless of circumstances.
He'd let the Youth Training Competition settle the question.
-----
The interior of the Capital Association headquarters lived up to every expectation and then exceeded most of them.
Ceilings that soared so high they might as well have been open sky. Gold-leaf detailing on every surface that could hold it. Architecture that communicated, in no uncertain terms, that this building belonged to an organization that managed the affairs of an entire region's worth of Card Masters.
Compared to Ashenvale's branch office, it was the difference between a local library and a national museum.
"The satellite branches are in a different league," one of Luke's teammates muttered, staring upward at a chandelier that probably cost more than his entire apartment building.
After-hours, the headquarters was quiet. A few staff members stood at attention, ready to guide the arriving teams to their accommodations. They'd been doing this all day and had the process down to muscle memory.
"You've traveled far. Rest up tonight." Roland exchanged a few words with Harrison and Grant, then handed the teams off to the staff. "You'll be briefed on the competition format tomorrow."
-----
The "guest rooms" turned out to be private villas.
Luke stood in the entryway of his assigned accommodation and took stock. Full kitchen. Living room that could host a small party. Bedroom with a view. And, for reasons Luke couldn't begin to justify, a miniature indoor hot spring and swimming pool tucked into a wing that was larger than his entire apartment back in Ashenvale.
"They called these guest rooms?" He shook his head. "The Capital Association's definition of hospitality is insane."
He waved his hand, and Mana materialized beside him. Her eyes went wide the instant she took in the surroundings.
The marble floors. The crystal fixtures. The hot spring steaming invitingly in the corner.
Her eyes sparkled. Literally sparkled, little points of light dancing in those green irises as she processed the sheer luxury of it all.
"Take a look around." Luke flicked her nose gently. "We'll be here for a few days."
Mana let out a delighted squeal and floated off to explore, examining every room with the enthusiasm of a child in a toy store.
Luke pulled out a Storage Card and released his packed luggage. The card was smaller than a playing card, yet it had carried everything he needed for the trip in a pocket-sized package. The convenience was so absurd that he still marveled at it sometimes.
He let Mana enjoy the villa and headed for the door. "Let's go find dinner."