Chapter 51: Cultural Festival Day One (Tournament Part 3)

The tournament proceeded smoothly.

Yuna had faced off against the hall-of-fame pro player Nakasu in the third round and was defeated. Though she reported the loss with frustration, her expression also showed a hint of satisfaction—perhaps because the match had been an intense and heated one.

After that, Yuna eagerly took the initiative to assist the girls attending the beginner's workshop.

Incidentally, Nakasu, who had bested Yuna, lost in the next match due to what’s known as a “soil screw”—failing to draw the mana source soil essential to their deck’s strategy.

By the end of the fourth round, the top eight competitors were decided. Since there were eight prizes prepared, everyone from here on was guaranteed some kind of reward.

What came as a surprise was that one of the remaining faces was someone familiar.

“…Why is Hisui there?”

Lately, Hisui had been seen playing more often in club activities. But even so, she wasn’t supposed to be strong enough to place that high in a tournament.

“She’s been acting weirdly motivated ever since the tournament was announced… She kept dragging me into practice sessions whenever I was awake at home.”

Souta said that with a sigh. If she could wear out someone like Souta, a total dueling fanatic, just how seriously had she been grinding?

“That’s not even all… Even after I gave up and went to rest, she kept lining up decks and dueling against herself.”

…Wait, seriously? That’s insane.

Even I’ve never gone that far with my tuning. What could’ve driven Hisui to such lengths?

I watched Hisui’s match.

With a composure unthinkable for someone in her first tournament, she skillfully neutralized her opponent’s aggression, calmly assessed the tipping point, and counterattacked with surgical precision to secure the win.

After the match ended, I approached Hisui as she stood silently, alone.

“Hisui, that was amazing! When did you get that good? I was really surprised.”

“I practiced a lot.”

Hisui smiled as she said that. Her gaze pierced straight through me, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

“Just a little more… I’ll keep trying my best, so wait for me, okay?”

She reached out and touched my bangs.

Then, her hand gently stroked my head. The sensation made me freeze in place. Her fingers tickled, yet felt pleasant, and I instinctively closed my eyes.

Finally, her index finger softly brushed my lips, then withdrew.

“Uh… Hisui?”

Still puzzled, I looked at her. She only answered with a smile.

“A little victory charm… or something.”

She pressed her index finger to her own lips and tilted her head slightly.

Her wavy ponytail swayed as she did.

While I stood there stunned, Souta’s voice called out to Hisui. It seemed her next match was about to begin.

“Well then, I’m off.”

With a fuzzy feeling lingering in my head, I watched Hisui’s next match—the semifinals. Her gameplay remained sharp and confident. She relentlessly pressured her opponent, who had taken a defensive stance, and snatched victory.

“She’s seriously amazing.”

“I didn’t even know someone like her was in the scene. I want to cheer her on—she’s really pretty, too.”

“She’s got that cool vibe. Man, I wanna duel her too… in more ways than one.”

Hisui seemed to be drawing attention not just for her skill but also for her looks. The surrounding players were abuzz with talk of her. But Hisui remained dignified, undistracted by any of it.

“But still, isn’t the finals a bit much? Her opponent’s that pro, Tanabe, right?”

“Yeah, but with the deck matchup, maybe she’s got a shot?”

“Even so… going up against Pro Tanabe…”

“I’m cheering for her!”

…Yes. Hisui’s opponent in the finals was none other than Tanabe, an active top-tier pro player—so dominant that people half-jokingly said his very existence should be banned.

In Wiso, every deck has certain matchups, and even when piloted by the same player, win rates can vary drastically—from 30% to 70%—depending on the matchup.

Top pros are the kind who consistently select the right deck and execute their plays with such precision that they can achieve over 80% win rates.

Tanabe had also secured victory in his semifinal match with calm and flawless gameplay.

Four desks were pushed together to form the final match table in the center of the classroom. The remaining desks and chairs were cleared out, creating a stage for the championship match. The other events, like the beginner workshop, had already concluded, and only the spectators for the finals remained in the venue.

“Thank you, everyone. There’s only one match left in today’s tournament. The finals will be between my little sister—though she may be unworthy—Kamishiro Hisui, a member of our Wiso club, and the currently active top pro, Mr. Tanabe.”

As they shuffled their decks, both players waited for Souta’s signal to begin. The air was tense with concentration, and even the gallery held their breath.

“Then, no time limit—begin the finals!”

At Souta’s announcement, the two exchanged bows and the match began.

The first game was nothing short of epic. The advantage swung back and forth multiple times, and both players shredded through their hands.

Once they ran out of cards in hand, it came down to drawing off the top of the deck—pure chance and instinct. In the end, Hisui’s lucky pull secured her the first game.

“One more win and the girl takes the tournament!”

“Could this really happen!? An amateur girl beating a pro!?”

The venue stirred with excitement.

The tournament used a best-of-three format—whoever won two games first would be crowned champion. Between matches, players were allowed to modify their decks using cards from their sideboards.

The second game began with Hisui aggressively pushing the tempo from the start. Tanabe responded only with the bare minimum, refusing to make any bold moves. Just when it looked like she might close it out, a board wipe swept everything off the field.

From there, Tanabe began to slowly seize control of the game. His deck was built with long matches in mind, with only a minimal number of low-cost cards and a focus instead on powerful, high-cost ones.

As a result, Tanabe took back the second game.

Both players reviewed their sideboards in silence, deep in thought. This was it—the final game, no matter what.

Wiso can sometimes deliver victories so dramatic they feel pulled from the pages of a manga. But just as often, games can end in a swift and anticlimactic resolution.

No one knew whether drama or harsh reality awaited. But even a single card played at the right moment could flip everything. That’s the allure of Wiso, and every player in the venue held their breath, watching the story unfolding before their eyes.

The third game began with a cautious and quiet opening from both sides. It was clear they were both prepared for a long, drawn-out battle—only the soils, the mana sources, steadily accumulated on each side.

The first to make a move was Hisui, and in response, Pro Tanabe countered. It became a tense tug-of-war where a single misstep could prove fatal.

And it was Hisui who made the first mistake.

It was a tiny opening—something so subtle it might usually go unnoticed. But a pro sees everything. Tanabe exploited that moment with pinpoint precision, and from that single play, he began gradually tightening the noose around Hisui.

Sensing that she would be slowly worn down if things continued like this, Hisui took a gamble. She sacrificed cards from her hand and creatures on the field, opting for an all-out strategy to cut down her opponent’s life points from twenty to zero in one push.

Even as her resources dwindled, she steadily chipped away at Tanabe’s life total, forcing the game to the brink. Now, if she could draw just one spell that dealt direct damage to the player—she would win.

But in the face of Tanabe’s amassed forces, she had only one turn left.

One card.

If she didn’t draw what she needed now, defeat was certain.

But if she did—it would be her victory.

Like a prayer, Hisui closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then quietly drew her card.