Perfect Mastery

The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays filtering through the dense canopy of the Magic Beast Kingdom's vast forests. 

The air shimmered with energy, a testament to the ancient power that coursed through this land. 

At the heart of a secluded clearing, Neron stood, his body drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

"Haaa… haaaa…"

He adjusted his grip on the shimmering card in his hands—[The Tower], one of his Arcanas. 

Its weight was no longer a challenge, its intricacies no longer a mystery. Over the years, he had forged an unbreakable bond with it, mastering its every nuance until it felt like an extension of his very soul.

He had also mastered the rest—[The Sun], [The Hanged Man], and his personal favorite… [The Hermit].

His Original Magic perfectly synchronised with the power of [The Hermit], allowing him to perfect its power.

"Hehe…"