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According to the staff, the Capital Association headquarters had its own dining hall, stocked with specialties from the Capital and all twelve satellite cities. No need to worry about unfamiliar food. The selection rivaled a five-star hotel.
"Master, I'll stay behind." Mana shook her head. "I want to organize the luggage."
Card spirits didn't strictly need food. Their existence was sustained by their master's mana. As long as the mana supply held, a card spirit could operate at peak condition indefinitely. Eating was purely recreational, a way to enjoy flavors and textures, not a biological necessity.
"Sure." Luke understood. He paused at the door, glancing back with a grin. "I'll feed you properly when I get back."
"Master!" Mana's face flushed crimson. She knew exactly what he meant, and it had nothing to do with cooking. Card Masters and their spirits had developed plenty of… creative methods for mana exchange over the centuries. Luke and Mana had explored several of them by now.
She threw a pillow at his retreating back.
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Luke hadn't made it far from the villa before a familiar voice reached him. Light, clear, with an ethereal quality that no other person he knew could replicate.
"Luke, what a coincidence!"
He didn't need to look. That voice belonged to Lily Fairchild and nobody else. If she ever gave up being a Card Master, a career as a vocalist was guaranteed.
He turned to find Lily approaching with another girl beside her.
Sky-blue sleeveless dress. Silver-rimmed glasses. A face that was softer and rounder than the sharp-featured beauties Luke usually encountered, with baby-fat cheeks that gave her an approachable warmth. Cute and intellectual in equal measure.
"This is Elise Hargrove," Lily said, gesturing to her companion. "My best friend here in the Capital. She's also representing the Capital branch in the competition."
Hargrove. Again.
Luke's mind connected the dots instantly. Edmund Hargrove, Immortal Realm, Capital Association president. Roland Hargrove, the muscular vice president who'd greeted them at the door. And now Elise Hargrove, the vice president's daughter and the president's granddaughter.
Card second-generation through Roland. Card THIRD-generation through Edmund. This girl's family tree is basically the Association's org chart.
And then Luke made the mistake of looking at Elise's face, then remembering Roland's build, and trying to reconcile the two.
Roland Hargrove looked like he could deadlift a Cold Cloud Sparrow. His suit had been one flexed bicep away from structural failure. The man was a walking fortress of muscle.
His daughter had baby-fat cheeks, wore cute glasses, and looked like she'd blow away in a stiff breeze.
Mother's genes won. Spectacularly.
"Luke, nice to meet you!" Elise extended her hand with a smile that was warm and confident, her eyes carrying a glint of curiosity behind those silver-rimmed lenses. Edmund had called Luke a prodigy. Meeting someone her grandfather considered noteworthy was genuinely exciting. "Just call me Elise."
"Nice to meet you." Luke took her hand.
The handshake surprised him. Elise wasn't bony the way most girls her age were. There was a softness to her grip, a subtle plushness that didn't match how she looked in clothes. She was the type who appeared slender at a distance but turned out to be… fuller up close. Plump was probably the right word, if he were being honest.
He released her hand before the observation could become awkward.
"Elise, this is Luke. He's from Ashenvale." Lily's introduction was deliberately sparse. She didn't mention the exchange match, didn't mention that Luke had beaten her. Telling your best friend that the guy you were introducing had once crushed you in combat wasn't exactly ideal social protocol.
"Want to eat together?" Lily asked. "We were just heading to the dining hall."
"Lead the way."
Elise took point, navigating the headquarters' corridors with the casual familiarity of someone who'd grown up in this building. With a local guide, Luke and Lily didn't have to think about directions.
The three of them drew attention the moment they entered the common areas. Two strikingly beautiful girls flanking a guy their age. The onlookers' reactions followed a predictable pattern: admiration for the girls, jealousy toward Luke, and increasingly desperate mental calculations about whether an "accidental" introduction was worth the risk.
"Don't even think about it," a Capital team member muttered to his peers, noticing the hungry looks. "The one with glasses is from the Hargrove family. The Hargrove family. Sovereign father, Immortal grandfather. You want to try your luck, be my guest. I'll send flowers to your hospital room."
The hungry looks died instantly.
And the question nobody could answer: who was the guy walking comfortably between the Hargrove heir and the other beauty, and why did he look like he belonged there?