Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2683: Sansa’s Faith

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Sky Blossom City, TSR Guild Headquarters

"You... was that all an act?" Sansa asked desperately, realizing she could no longer sense any memory related to her within her nephew’s mind—nothing she could latch onto to trigger her Memory Bomb, even though she stood right in front of him.

She didn’t bother threatening to detonate the bombs implanted in others. Within the Celestial Rule Domain, all contact with the card world was severed. If she could trigger the Memory Bomb, she might as well escape directly.

To make matters worse, every attempt she made to converse with her nephew, to create new memories with him, failed—despite her standing right before his eyes.

Then she noticed something was wrong. Her nephew gave her no response to her calls and attempts to converse. His eyes were blank—not blind, but devoid of light, as though nothing remained behind them to reflect her presence.

That was when she concluded her nephew was done talking to her—and about to finish what they hadn’t that day in the Yellow Plains realm.

As the silence thickened and the distance between us narrowed, her desperation collapsed into despair. She hurriedly began rearranging the cards on her grimoire’s attack page. Previously, each card had been carefully selected to complement and enhance her origin card and Memory Bomb technique—allowing remote activation, timer counters with deadman switches, multi-target deployment, and more. Enough to seize control of an entire city, despite being trapped within her nephew’s Celestial Rule Domain.

In desperation, Sansa hurriedly began to rearrange her cards, preparing for a battle to the death. However, she had never fought without relying on her origin card. Her mind couldn’t form a viable card combination without it in it, and her thoughts fell into complete disarray.

Even her runes and rule powers had been comprehended and developed to support her origin card. As for those that didn’t, she had never bothered to comprehend them further, simply moved on to the next.

Never once in her entire life had she imagined encountering someone who could perfectly block her origin card. After all, the moment any entity showed even the slightest intent toward her, it meant they possessed memories—and those memories contained a memory of her. That alone was enough to make them prey to her origin card. Avoiding her origin card’s prowess was simply impossible.

Still, fate was merciful to her ignorant ass at the Yellow Plains realm, what had transpired there should have been a wake-up call to her about her ways.

Despite that humiliating, life-ending experience, she had learned nothing from it. Instead, she doubled down, focusing entirely on her origin card and refining it until she produced the Memory Bomb technique. She went even further, abandoning the card build she was familiar with and reconstructing it entirely to empower Memory Bomb.

Now, she found herself in the exact same situation she had faced in the Yellow Plains realm, once again forced to confront the same opponent—one who somehow seemed to be completely unaffected by her origin card.

What made it even more baffling was that she had walked into this situation of her own accord, allowing her original body to be locked inside the Celestial Rule Domain.

As these thoughts raced through her mind while she struggled to assemble a viable card combination for the battle that would decide her survival, Sansa’s thoughts finally fractured, collapsing further into despair.

In that despair, she stopped trying to rearrange her card build. Instead, she clung to the one thing that had carried her this far—her origin card itself. With her life on the line, she began using it on me relentlessly, desperately searching for a crack, a wall she could infiltrate, a single memory she could latch onto.

Sansa no longer had any intention of fighting a decisive battle. She committed everything to pushing her origin card to its absolute limit, hoping for a miracle.

She planned to hide within the memories of her would-be killer. To that end, she staked her life on a single opportunity—a narrow window through which she could escape into the memories of her nephew, the one who was about to kill her, seeking sanctuary within his memories, intending to remain there until a better option presented itself,

No—she wasn’t gambling her life. She was taking a calculated risk.

She knew her nephew’s strength. He had forced a freak like the Emissary of Light to retreat, even though it had only been a soul projection. He had been bolstered by faith drawn in through a live stream. That alone was proof that, without her origin card, she stood no chance against him.

Therefore, rather than wasting effort on a futile struggle against her nephew within his Celestial Rule Domain, she chose to trust everything to her origin card. It was the only path she believed remained.

Whether it was desperation, fate, or something else entirely, Sansa’s calculated risk paid off. It was not short of a miracle.

At last, she sensed a memory of herself within the Celestial Rule Domain. It was coming from her nephew—yet not from him alone. She had begun to detect the memories of another sentient entity residing within him.

The moment she sensed this new, rich vein of memories, her despair vanished in an instant. Without even allowing herself a sigh of relief, she activated her origin card. Her body dissolved into a beam of light and shot straight into her nephew’s body, escaping into the memories of that sentient entity in his body to take refuge within them.

She didn’t care who—or what—the entity was. As long as it possessed memories, she would hold the home-field advantage. Once she had secured herself within those memories, she was confident she could deal with everything else as the situation unfolded.

It was neither ignorance nor boldness, but faith—absolute faith in her origin card. In her moment of desperation, she clung to it as though it were her final lifeline.