My Deck Is Made Up Of OP Anime Characters

The winter winds of late December carried more than just the chill of the season; they bore witness to the conclusion of Greenridge Province's first Unified Exam. What had begun as an ambitious academic tournament had grown into something far more significant: a showcase of the next generation's most exceptional talents.

At the center of it all was Azrael, who had claimed the championship with a dominance that had left spectators and competitors alike in awe. His final opponent, while competent, had proven to be several levels below Victor's formidable skills. The disparity was so obvious that many in the audience had taken to joking that the real finals had been the semifinal match between Azrael and Victor, with everything after that merely a ceremonial obligation.

Despite the obvious mismatch, Azrael had approached the final with unwavering professionalism. He understood better than most that underestimating his opponent was a luxury he could not afford, regardless of the apparent disparity in power. His infiltration of the Crimson Oath Society had taught him that complacency could prove fatal in unexpected ways.

The victory itself had been decisive, but not spectacular. Azrael had used Luffy and Yoriichi in their base forms, and achieved triumph without revealing any additional tricks. His opponent had succumbed to conventional tactics, preserving Azrael's mystique for future challenges.

Now, as the first-place winner of Greenridge Province's historic trial, Azrael found himself thrust into a spotlight that burned far brighter than he'd anticipated.

The awards ceremony took place in the Convention Center's main auditorium, its vast space packed with dignitaries, university officials, and media from across the Empire of Aetherlight. Banners displaying the tournament bracket and final standings adorned the walls, while cameras captured every moment for provincial broadcast.

Azrael stood at the top of the podium, flanked by the runners-up, who seemed appropriately humbled by their proximity to such overwhelming talent. In his hands rested a medal of surprisingly modest design, a simple gold disc engraved with the provincial seal and the year of the test.

This is remarkably stingy, Azrael thought, maintaining his practiced smile for the photographers as he examined the meager reward. After all that buildup, they're giving me what amounts to a souvenir.

His gaze swept over the assembled officials, representing the various power structures within the Empire. To his left stood representatives of the Imperial Court, their elaborate robes and formal bearing suggesting centuries of bureaucratic tradition. To his right, the leadership of the Cardian Master Association displayed a more practical aesthetic, their attire emphasizing function over ceremony.

The clear physical separation between the two factions spoke volumes about the political tensions underlying this supposedly collaborative event. Azrael's analytical mind processed the implications with growing unease.

Could there be an internal conflict between the Court and the Federation? he wondered, noting the subtle but unmistakable body language that suggested these groups barely tolerated each other's presence.

The theory gained credibility as Azrael considered his experiences during the tournament. While the Association had provided various rewards and recognition during his advancement, however grudgingly, the Imperial Court had offered nothing beyond this symbolic medal. Even the Crimson Oath Society, a criminal organization operating in the shadows, had invested more resources in his development than the Empire's supposedly legitimate government.

This disparity revealed uncomfortable truths about the power dynamics within the Empire of Aetherlight. In unstable regions such as Velkairos, citizens barely acknowledged the existence of the Imperial Court, relying entirely on the Association for public safety and administration. Unlike the capital, where Imperial Constables maintained visible patrols, most provinces operated as de facto Association territories.

These power struggles are still beyond my current influence, Azrael reminded himself pragmatically.

The thought provided some comfort. Regardless of the broader political landscape, aligning oneself with a master-level Lore Cardian would offer protection and opportunities that transcended provincial concerns. Personal loyalty to powerful individuals often proved more valuable than institutional affiliation in turbulent times.

After the formal photo session was over, Azrael was ushered into a media area where several news outlets had arranged interviews with the tournament's top performers. The setup was professional yet intimate, a small stage with two chairs surrounded by cameras and lighting equipment that created an almost theatrical atmosphere.

The interviewer was a woman in her thirties, with impeccable makeup and the polished demeanor of someone accustomed to high-profile assignments. Her smile carried a practiced warmth as she gestured for Azrael to join her under the bright lights.

"Good afternoon, Champion Azrael," she began, her voice carrying the perfect balance of respect and casual familiarity. "You have just achieved something truly historic, becoming the first ever winner of the Greenridge Province Unified Test. How do you feel about this unprecedented achievement?"

Azrael considered his answer carefully. The question was predictable, but his answer would be broadcast throughout the province and possibly beyond. Too much enthusiasm might seem arrogant, too much humility might seem disingenuous.

"It feels surreal, honestly," he replied with calculated sincerity. "When I entered this tournament, my goal was simply to test my skills against the best talent in the province. To come away a champion... it's both humbling and exciting."

The interviewer nodded in agreement, clearly pleased with his diplomatic response. "Your journey through the tournament was remarkable to watch. From the early rounds to the spectacular semi-final against Victor, what would you say was the key to your success?"

A mischievous impulse struck Azrael as he considered how to answer. The serious tone of the interrogation reminded him of similar moments in his former life, and he could not resist injecting some levity into the proceedings.

"Have you ever seen Velkairos at four in the morning?" he asked in all seriousness.

The interviewer's professional composure wavered as confusion flickered across her features. "I... excuse me?"

Azrael held his serious expression for several seconds before offering clarification. "What I mean is that success requires dedication to the basics, early mornings, consistent training, and an unwavering commitment to improvement. While others slept, I meditated and honed my techniques."

Relief washed over the interviewer's face as understanding dawned. "Of course! These are indeed profound words of wisdom. Your dedication to your craft is clearly evident in your performance. Is there any final message you'd like to share with aspiring Cardians across the province?"

"I plan to pursue higher education where I can fully realize my potential," Azrael stated with conviction, though he was internally disappointed that his subtle hint had gone completely over the interviewer's head.

The woman's professional smile remained fixed despite her obvious confusion over the phrasing. She wrapped up the segment with practiced efficiency, leaving Azrael to ponder the lonely burden of being the only person present who appreciated his own cultural references.

As the interview ended and Azrael prepared to return to his hotel for some well-deserved rest, he found his way blocked by a small army of university officials. Word of his championship had apparently caused a feeding frenzy among academic institutions desperate to secure his commitment.

"Champion Azrael!" The Beijing University representative stepped forward with the aggressive confidence of someone accustomed to winning recruitment battles. "I'm sure you remember our previous conversation. Our president has been personally informed of your exceptional performance during this tournament."

He paused dramatically, savoring what he clearly believed to be an irresistible offer. "Beijing University is prepared to offer you a full scholarship worth three million Empyrean dollars annually, plus priority placement in our most prestigious research and practical training programs."

Before Azrael could formulate a response, another representative, a middle-aged man whose receding hairline and Mediterranean complexion marked him as likely from the coastal provinces, physically inserted himself into the conversation.

"Champion Azrael, allow me to introduce myself," the newcomer said with the practiced warmth of a seasoned recruiter. "I am President Bernard of Riverstone University. We've been following your progress in the tournament with great interest, especially your remarkable display of sun-attributed skills."

His smile widened as he prepared to make what he clearly considered a devastating counteroffer. "Riverstone University is prepared to offer you five million Empyrean dollars per year, guaranteed for the duration of your studies. In addition, I can arrange for you to study directly under University Scholar Blazewright, our Diamond-level specialist in solar mythology and fire-based map development."

The Beijing University representative's face darkened as he realized that his institution lacked the resources to compete with such generous terms. Diamond-level mentorship was a prize beyond monetary calculation, offering access to techniques and knowledge that could not be purchased at any price.

Just as the bidding war threatened to escalate, the Pixar University representative stepped smoothly between the competing factions. His expression had the quiet confidence of someone holding a royal flush in a high-stakes poker game.

"Gentlemen, I appreciate your enthusiasm," he said with a diplomatic courtesy that barely concealed his satisfaction. "However, I must inform you that Champion Azrael has already committed himself to Pixar University."

Without allowing time for protest or counter-argument, he turned to Azrael with a smile that promised extraordinary things to come. "The administration has authorized me to offer you the final terms: six million Empyrean dollars per year, plus access to a secret welfare realm of your choice, at any level you desire, within the territories surrounding our campus."

Azrael felt his pulse quicken despite his attempts to maintain an outward calm. The amount of money, though substantial, was not what caught his attention. The annual access to high-level secret realms represented an opportunity that transcended simple financial considerations.

Six million is impressive for a Bronze level Cardian, he calculated internally,  but the real value lies in those secret realm opportunities.

His mind raced over the strategic implications. Currently at the Bronze level, he could afford to wait until he reached the Silver level before using his first welfare expedition. By the following year, if his development continued at its rapid pace, he might even qualify for gold-level territories. Such access would accelerate his resource accumulation far beyond what conventional channels could provide.

High-level secret realms, especially the Platinum and Diamond classes, remained rare in the interior provinces. The most valuable areas were concentrated along the coastal regions and the northwestern frontier, where demon activity created the environmental conditions necessary to produce premium materials.

The offer was so generous as to raise questions of motivation. While Master Lucian's backing certainly explained some of the favorable treatment, Pixar University's willingness to commit such resources suggested that they viewed Azrael as an investment rather than simply a talented student.

Before Azrael could voice his acceptance, the Aurora University representative interjected with obvious skepticism. "You are not deceiving Champion Azrael, are you?" he challenged, his tone carrying the desperation of someone watching a prized recruit slip away. "Can Pixar University really keep such extravagant promises?"

His motivation was transparent: Aurora University shared Velkairos' metropolitan area with Azrael's home institution, making his recruitment as much a matter of regional pride as academic ambition. Losing such a prominent local talent to a distant university would reflect poorly on Aurora's competitive standing.

The Pixar representative's expression hardened at the implied accusation. "There is nothing misleading about our offer," he replied curtly. "We have written permission, and the terms are perfectly legitimate."

He paused, savoring the moment before delivering what he clearly considered a knockout blow. "Furthermore, Champion Azrael is destined to become Master Lucian's personal apprentice. Did you really think he would choose any other institution than Pixar?"

The announcement hit the assembled representatives like a physical blow. Conversations stopped in mid-sentence as the implications sank in, leaving only the sound of shocked breathing and the distant murmur of other recruiting discussions.

After several seconds of stunned silence, the Aurora University representative managed to say what everyone was thinking. "Master Lucian?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You mean this Master Lucian?"

The Pixar representative nodded with satisfaction, confirming what had been suspected but never explicitly stated.

Just as the recruitment meeting seemed to reach its natural conclusion, with Azrael's obvious destination settled, an unexpected voice broke the atmosphere of resignation.

"Champion Azrael," the representative of Northwind University spoke for the first time, his voice carrying a quiet authority that demanded attention. "I should mention that Grand Scholar Tempest will be arriving shortly to meet with you in person."

He paused, letting the significance of his words sink in before continuing. "The specific terms of our offer can be discussed upon his arrival, but I believe you will find them... competitive."

The effect was immediate and electric. Every representative present recognized the name and title being invoked; Grand Scholar Tempest was no ordinary academic administrator. His reputation as a master-level Lore Cardian and Duke of the Empire elevated him to the same level as Master Lucian himself.

For the first time since recruitment began, Azrael was faced with a truly difficult decision. Two master-level Lore Cardians expressing interest in his development presented an opportunity that transcended normal academic considerations.

The choice would determine not only his university career, but potentially the entire trajectory of his future within the Empire of Aetherlight. Such decisions could not be made lightly, especially when both options offered paths to power far beyond provincial concerns.

As the representatives waited with bated breath for his answer, Azrael realized that his tournament victory was only the beginning. The real competition was about to begin.