CHAPTER 2: THE WAR ENDS

After his grand and devastating arrival, Jonas stood in the middle of the battlefield, his cold eyes scanning the fortunate few who had survived.

The soldiers—**bruised, battered, gasping for breath—**couldn't believe what they had just witnessed.

Jonas lifted his gaze, his expression as sharp as a blade.

Every word he spoke cut deep—each syllable a dagger that pierced the minds of the weaklings still standing before him.

"You all know that the power of card suits can only be used at levels 1 to 10, depending on one's mana. But do you truly understand what happens when one reaches Rank K?"**

His piercing stare bored through each soldier, as if stripping away the fragile facade of lies they clung to.

One soldier, his face pale as a corpse, trembled as he stuttered:

"...No... That's impossible… J, Q, K are nothing but myths. No one has ever… ever been able to wield them… How could this be…?"

Jonas did not answer.

Instead, he simply smirked.

There was no warmth in that smile. No emotion. Only cold, mocking amusement.

"Ha…" – He let out a derisive chuckle.

"You will not only witness Rank K. You will witness what happens when Rank K is used with all four Clubs at once."

One soldier, his face drained of all color, had yet to grasp the nightmare about to unfold.

Then, Jonas's voice rang out like a thunderclap.

"CLUBS x4 – RANK K!"

At that moment, a colossal beam of light erupted from the sky, consuming everything in its path.

This was not merely light.

This was absolute annihilation.

A maelstrom of pure destruction that left nothing alive within its reach.

The beam crashed down upon Livier's army, a tsunami of devastation, ripping apart everything in an instant.

The moment the beam detonated, the entire battlefield fell silent.

The wind ceased to blow.

The screams of warriors vanished, swallowed by the deafening explosion.

The remaining soldiers, eyes wide with unspeakable horror, stood frozen, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Jonas stood there, silent, motionless.

As if he were **not the one who had unleashed such destruction—**but merely a witness to it.

Every movement he made carried the presence of a god of destruction, a force beyond comprehension.

And his power… no one could predict its limits.

"Look." Jonas's voice echoed across the battlefield.

"This is true power.

And you— you are nothing but pawns in this game."

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Marshal Marcellus of Livier had barely escaped death after the devastating attack that had wiped out nearly his entire army. Standing amidst the burning wreckage, he was frozen—his eyes hollow, staring at the few remaining soldiers, the last survivors of what was once a mighty force. Just moments ago, they had been a powerful army. Now, only a few hundred broken, terrified men remained among the ashes.

Cornelia, once the pride of Livier, stumbled toward Marcellus. Blood covered her entire body, her pale face drained of all strength. Her right arm was gone. And yet, her eyes still carried a faint glimmer of resilience, though it was quickly fading.

"Marshal..." – Cornelia's voice was weak, but she forced herself to remain composed.

Marcellus clenched his fists, desperately trying to hold onto the last shreds of his reason. He lifted his gaze toward the sky, where the Mana Storm—once a beacon of hope—had now become a sign of death.

"Is this divine punishment?" – Marcellus murmured, his voice trembling with rage. "They lured us in with the storm, only to wipe out anyone who dared to reach for it?"

Cornelia weakly shook her head, her face dark with fear. "No… sir… This is not the work of the gods…" – She lifted her head, her lips trembling. "… This is the Phantom."

Marcellus closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "How much firepower do we have left?" – His voice was calm, steady.

Cornelia hesitated, then answered: "Only about 200 soldiers… and two mid-tier mana cannons."

Silence.

Then, Marcellus tightened his grip, his voice now devoid of hesitation. "Focus everything on him."

"...Understood." – Cornelia whispered. But she knew. They all knew. This was nothing but a desperate struggle against the inevitable.

Livier's Final Counterattack

A desperate battle cry erupted from the few remaining soldiers of Livier. Everything they had left—200 men, two mana cannons, and every surviving mage—was aimed directly at Jonas. Cornelia, with only one arm remaining, did not falter. She was the only mage in Livier capable of wielding Clubs at Level 10. And even if using this spell would cost her life, she would not stop fighting.

"CLUBS—LEVEL 10!!" – Cornelia roared, summoning a blinding pillar of pure energy—the strongest attack Livier had left.

At the same time, the two remaining mana cannons fired, their devastating beams blazing toward Jonas. The battlefield fell into absolute silence. Everyone held their breath. This was Livier's final attack.

Jonas calmly watched as it all unfolded. His expression did not change. There was no fear. No concern. He knew. This was everything they had left. A desperate counterattack born from absolute hopelessness.

"They actually think they still have a chance?" – Jonas thought.

He closed his eyes. Then, in a low, quiet voice, he spoke: "Clubs x2, Spades x2 – Rank J."

At that instant—A colossal magic barrier of light materialized around him, as immovable as a fortress. But defense was not its true power. Its real ability—was reflection. Everything Livier had poured into this final attack—Would now be turned against them.

BOOOOM!!!

A blinding explosion consumed the battlefield. Livier's strongest warriors, their most powerful spells, their greatest firepower—Now became the blade that ended them.

No one could comprehend what they had just witnessed. "Impossible… That's Spades' defensive magic… but how did it reflect the attack like that?! Impossible…! There's no way that's possible…!"

Whispers of fear and disbelief filled the battlefield—but only for a few seconds. Because in the next instant—The reflected destruction rained down upon the last remnants of Livier.

Marcellus, still standing in the ruins of his army, had completely lost the will to fight. He had done everything. He had given everything. And in the end—all he had left was death. Slowly, he reached for his sword. His hands trembled. But his eyes—held no hope.

"…So this is how it ends?" – He murmured, his voice barely audible over the cold wind.

Without hesitation—He raised his sword—And plunged it into his own chest.

Marcellus collapsed without a final word. And with him—the army of Livier ceased to exist.

Jonas glanced at Marcellus's corpse. Then, he swept his gaze over the battlefield, now void of any trace of Livier's forces. With a quiet sigh, he muttered indifferently: "That takes care of the most troublesome faction."

Livier had been erased from the war.

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General Thorus of Troys, watching from afar, could not accept reality. A surge of rage and terror swelled inside him. Never in his life had he witnessed such a devastating storm of magic. Never had he imagined that a single entity could erase an entire army with just a flick of the wrist.

"He's a demon! He must die!" – Thorus roared, his voice thundering across the battlefield like the desperate howl of a beast cornered with no escape.

"Kill him!"

Thorus's order was absolute. The entire Troys army, despite their heavy casualties, immediately reformed their battle formation, all weapons aimed at Jonas.

Archers nocked their arrows, their tips infused with The Card's magic, locking onto Jonas. Mages began gathering massive amounts of mana, preparing to unleash their strongest spells. Cavalry and infantry stood ready to charge, all of them prepared to execute their finest battle strategies.

"Kill him!" – Thorus shouted once more, but this time, his voice carried pure desperation.

He could not be allowed to live.

The battlefield resonated with this unspoken truth. Commanders from both Hayer and Oscarn immediately understood—they all had to unite against a single target.

"Form ranks immediately!" – A general from Oscarn barked, his voice hoarse from the tension. "We need to show that monster we won't be crushed so easily!"

Hayer and Oscarn soldiers began organizing their formations, while Troys forces prepared to break through. The atmosphere grew heavier, as if the entire continent was holding its breath for what was about to unfold—a final, decisive clash.

---------

The Battle Ends

Jonas sat atop a pile of broken weapons, tools of war now reduced to mere scrap metal. He pulled out a bottle of liquor, flicked the cap off with his thumb, and took a long swig.

"Not a bad taste…" – Jonas murmured, his voice calm, as if he were simply enjoying a drink after a long, exhausting day.

Around him lay heaps of corpses, shattered technological weapons, mobile fortresses, and war machines now reduced to ruins. This battlefield had become a graveyard—and Jonas was the one who caused it all.

He felt nothing. Just an emptiness. A vague sense of guilt. A dull indifference to everything that had just happened.

For 28 years, he had waited, doing everything he could to return home—to go back to Earth. Now that the war had ended, Jonas remained seated, waiting for something… anything. A teleportation gate, sudden death, or perhaps a black hole—whatever could take him back.

Suddenly, a few surviving soldiers approached. One of them was about to activate The Card, while the other gripped his weapon, preparing to strike Jonas from behind.

BOOM!

A light trap suddenly activated—an intricate combination of Spades x2, Diamonds, and Clubs at Level 5. In the blink of an eye, the two soldiers disintegrated into nothing.

Jonas didn't even bother to turn around. The fastest way to end this war was to utterly cripple the armies, and Jonas believed this was the best way, no matter how brutal it seemed. He had no regrets—because he knew that if he didn't do this, the endless cycle of war would never end.

He let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back to gaze at the devastated battlefield.

"Looks like I've become a demon, haven't I?" – Jonas muttered, his voice quiet, as if seeking comfort in meaningless words. But no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the truth remained—he had become a true destroyer.

"It's been quite a while, hasn't it?" – Jonas mumbled, his voice breaking the eerie silence.

"An hour has passed… and nothing has happened?" – A creeping unease began to settle in. His usual composure wavered.

"Could it be… this wasn't the Great War after all?"

Panic suddenly seized him. His eyes widened, desperately searching for an explanation. He grabbed his head, fingers digging into his scalp, as the fear inside him swelled uncontrollably.

---------

Time passed, and still, nothing changed. Every second felt like a century, each moment pressing down on his shoulders like an unbearable weight.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA..." – Jonas screamed, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

"I'VE DONE EVERYTHING!!! LOOK AROUND! MILLIONS ARE DEAD BECAUSE OF ME! I CAUSED ALL OF THIS!!! WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?! DESTROY THIS ENTIRE PLANET?!"

His voice roared with fury, flooding the battlefield with unrelenting rage.

"CLUBS X4 LEV—"

Jonas was about to unleash one of his most devastating destruction spells, but before the incantation could even leave his lips—

A blinding golden light suddenly burst from his left eye—the one that had been blind since he was four years old.

The radiant beam shot straight into the sky, shining brilliantly like a newborn star.

Magical constellation circles began forming around him, glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. The ground trembled, as if some unseen force was awakening.

"Could this be… the moment I return?" – Jonas thought, his mind torn between hope and fear, unable to tell whether this was his chance to go home or just the final illusion of a man pushed beyond his limits.

And then—

Everything vanished.

The light, the circles, the trembling earth—all extinguished in an instant, like a dying flame swallowed by darkness.

Jonas, too, disappeared without a trace.

----------

THUD…

A magic circle appeared, and Jonas crashed onto the rooftop of an unknown building. He stood up, dusted off his clothes, and lifted his gaze, scanning his surroundings.

"Everything… looks familiar," Jonas thought, his eyes sweeping over the towering skyscrapers and the modern architecture surrounding him. "This era, this technology, these buildings… Could it be? Have I finally returned to Earth?"

Out of habit, he instinctively glanced down at himself, examining his own body.

"What the hell!?" Jonas screamed internally.

"Why!? Why am I still in this form!? Where is my original body!?"

Confusion struck him like a hammer, panic and fear creeping into his mind. "I… I made it back to Earth, but… no, this can't be happening!"

Jonas lifted his head once more, scanning his surroundings again. "It seems like I'm standing on a fairly modern skyscraper, one likely built for high-income residents…" he thought, eyes moving across the structural details. "Wait… something feels off. The architecture… it looks mixed. Isn't that a billboard in Chinese?"

He paused, eyebrows furrowing. "Why is there Vietnamese here too? And… Spanish!? What the f*!?"**

A creeping sense of unease swelled within him. Then, his eyes landed on something truly absurd.

"What the actual f*!? Isn't that Mount Fuji? But… it should only exist in Japan!"**

Jonas couldn't believe his eyes. The scene before him was beyond bizarre.

"I really don't want to test this, but…" he muttered to himself before quickly casting a spell to help him land safely.

"Diamonds x2, Hearts, Spades Level 2."

The spell activated, allowing Jonas to descend effortlessly from the rooftop.

"What the hell!? My powers… I still have them!? But then… where am I?"

His mind swirled in confusion as he looked around, feeling more and more unsettled.

"Everything looks like Earth, but… something's wrong. Could this be another world? But why does it resemble Earth so much?"

Jonas cautiously walked through the streets, his eyes scrutinizing everything around him. It all looked exactly like Earth in 2024, yet there was no denying the strange mix of cultures in everything he saw.

The skyscrapers around him were ultra-modern, but their designs blended elements from different parts of the world. One high-rise had the glass-heavy style of American architecture, its wide panels seamlessly connecting each floor. Yet, upon closer inspection, the decorative carvings on the pillars resembled intricate Chinese classical patterns.

"Could I be in a different place altogether?" Jonas wondered, but the eerie feeling inside him only grew stronger. Everything seemed normal, yet something was undeniably off.

As he ventured deeper into what seemed like a commercial district, the contradictions grew even stranger. A French-style café sat right next to a Korean electronics store. Massive LED billboards flickered between Italian, English, and Arabic advertisements.

"Is this some kind of… blended reality?" Jonas murmured. But then, something even more unsettling struck him—

There wasn't a single person in sight.

He looked up at the towering buildings. Their windows were tightly shut. No lights flickered from inside. No movement on the streets.

A chilling silence blanketed the city.

"Am I in an alternate version of Earth?"

The question replayed over and over in his mind. But the more he thought about it, the more lost he felt.

No people. No voices. Just the sound of his own footsteps echoing through the empty streets. A city filled with architectural diversity, yet devoid of life.

Jonas pushed forward, walking down the wide streets, passing skyscrapers and what looked like once-bustling marketplaces.

Everything appeared familiar, but…

There was no one here.

Shops were shuttered. Cars sat abandoned. And not a single sign of life remained.

"I can't just keep wandering like this. I need to figure out what's going on."

Jonas muttered to himself, uncertainty and dread gnawing at him, yet his curiosity about this place kept pushing him forward.

A world that looked like Earth…

But where had all the people gone?

--------

As Jonas continued walking, a soft yet playful voice called out from behind him:

"Yohh! Greetings, No.1 Jonas Harson!"

Jonas froze, instantly spinning around.

Standing before him was a young woman with short blonde hair, around 1.6 meters tall. She wore a sleek, form-fitting black outfit, designed for agility in combat. A short-sleeved jacket and weapon straps crossed over her torso, complementing her tight black pants that hugged her frame, allowing for maximum movement.

In her hand, she held a katana—its razor-sharp crimson blade emanating an unmistakable aura of danger.

"Who… are you?" – Jonas muttered, momentarily stunned, unable to comprehend what was happening.

The girl's cold gaze locked onto him as she smirked.

"Do you want to hear my name from back when I was on Earth, or the name I go by now?"