The Apocalypse Claims the Crown
The awards ceremony was the finale. The final table that had begun with nine players now stood completely empty. Only two people remained at its center, with a mountain of ownerless chips piled between them—like tombs for fallen warriors. The last card that would decide the fate of those chips was flipped over.
“Full house,” one of them murmured.
“Ace-high full house,” the other replied.
The outcome had been decided from the start. Or as good as. It was the end of a sweat-soaked psychological war, a brutal clash that had scraped the very bottoms of their souls, and the superior hand had won. An utterly obvious, almost disappointing conclusion. Yet not a single person who had witnessed the process dared call it disappointing. There was no joy on the winner’s face, no regret on the loser’s—only the hollow emptiness of those who had burned everything they possessed, lingering like cold ashes.
A brief silence fell. And then—
Thunderous applause. The cheers of the packed spectator seats crashed over the entire hall like a massive wave. It was the exact moment the winner of the 1st Far East Maritime Province Grand Duke Cup Texas Hold’em Tournament was decided.
“And now! We shall begin the long-awaited awards ceremony!”
Laura Valeriano’s clear, ringing voice, amplified by magic, filled every corner of the hall. She stood at the center of the podium, shining like a goddess. Every eye in the room turned to her at once.
From the shadows behind the stage, Mikhail watched the scene with a detached gaze. He was thinking about the price of the dress Laura wore. A single gown like that could feed an ordinary family in the Far East Maritime Province for an entire year. He had designed it himself, and even with the discount he’d received because the master artisan had taken a liking to the pattern, the cost was still staggering. After all, it was made from the finest silk, embroidered with real gold thread, and commissioned from one of the Empire’s most celebrated craftsmen. It couldn’t be helped.
Money really is the best.
It was a thought that never got old.
“First! Although they narrowly missed the medals, please welcome to the stage the fifteen players who reached the money with magnificent skill! Let’s have a big round of applause!”
Mikhail let out a small snort as he watched Laura fully immersed in her role as emcee. Her pacing and delivery were every bit as smooth and professional as the top MCs he remembered from the 21st century. One by one, the players stepped onto the stage with awkward expressions. Most were nameless gamblers or merchants who had traveled great distances hoping to strike it rich.
“Presenting the awards will be… none other than the host of this tournament and the master of our Far East Maritime Province! His Highness Grand Duke Mikhail himself!”
At Laura’s introduction, every spotlight swung toward Mikhail. He strolled lazily to the center of the stage. The sound of applause rising from the stands tickled his ears.
“Well, you all worked hard,” Mikhail drawled into the microphone, sounding thoroughly bored. “Should I just start handing out prizes from last place?”
His mischievous joke drew bursts of laughter from every corner of the audience.
The ceremony proceeded smoothly. Prize money was distributed according to ranking, and the additional gifts were all sorts of luxurious extras. High-end card decks that Mikhail had designed, inspected, and personally signed. Cocktail recipe books he had written himself. Even bottles of the Far East Maritime Province’s specialty caviar that he loved to eat. Every item was premium quality and bore Mikhail’s personal seal, so the recipients accepted them with deeply moved expressions.
“Next! The honorable runner-up! ‘Steel’! Player Ivan Fyodorovich!”
At Laura’s call, a hulking man stepped forward hesitantly. He was a former mercenary who had once been famous in the south but had since retired to run a small tavern.
“Congratulations, Ivan.” Mikhail handed him a case of Mikhail Blue Label. “This should help your tavern’s sales a little.”
“Th-thank you, Your Highness!”
Ivan accepted the case with an expression that didn’t suit his massive frame—his eyes were practically wet. He grabbed Mikhail’s hand and bowed repeatedly. The sight was so ridiculous that Mikhail nearly laughed out loud.
At last, only one person remained.
“And now! The moment we’ve all been waiting for! The winner of the 1st Far East Maritime Province Grand Duke Cup Texas Hold’em Tournament!”
Laura paused dramatically to let the tension build. The entire hall held its breath.
“The genius who descended into darkness! Apocalypse! Miss Erika Cage! Please come to the stage!”
The instant Laura called Erika’s name—
“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
A piercing cheer—not a scream—exploded from one side of the stands. All eyes turned. A noble girl with gorgeous golden vertical rolls was jumping up and down, completely forgetting her dignity. It was Victoria Mckenzie. Ignoring every stare around her, she shouted at the top of her lungs.
“I believed in you the whole time~! Miss Cage! Of course my best friend would win! Hooray! Hooray! Ohohoho!”
Mikhail couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sight.
How cute.
Unlike the other nobles who hid their real feelings behind masks of grace and dignity, she was honest, primal, and—above all—loud. He liked that about her.
Erika Cage walked onto the stage with an awkward smile. Her face was stiff as a board. She was clearly mortified by her friend’s noisy cheering. She stopped in front of Mikhail.
He held out a small box made of jet-black ebony. Inside it rested a single card that glowed with an ethereal light.
The Eternal Special Membership Card. The true trophy of this entire tournament.
“You played pretty well,” Mikhail said quietly as he handed it over.
Erika looked up at him. Her eyes trembled ever so slightly.
“Though not as well as me.” A mischievous grin curved Mikhail’s lips. “If I’d stayed in until the end… I would’ve won.”
The moment Erika’s lips parted to argue, Mikhail leaned in and whispered directly into her ear, so softly only she could hear.
“You know that queen four-of-a-kind was pure luck, right? Well… card games are all luck anyway. Running them is what takes skill.”
He saw the fury ignite in her eyes. He saw her jaw clench. He even caught the tiny twitch in the muscle of her pale cheek.
“Still, congratulations. On the win.”
Mikhail stepped back casually, as if he hadn’t just thrown a lit match into her pride. The teasing was absolutely first-rate.
Click! Click!
Magicians throughout the hall cast spells to capture the moment. The constant bright flashes only made Erika’s face grow even stiffer. Mikhail was thoroughly enjoying her reaction. It was a completely different kind of fun from what he got out of Laura or Josepina. A raw, unfiltered response with zero pretense or calculation. Eyes burning with pure competitive spirit, like living flames.
“It’s a happy occasion. You should smile,” Mikhail continued deliberately poking at her nerves.
Erika glared at him like she wanted to murder him, then forcibly pulled her lips into something resembling a smile. It looked more like a muscle spasm.
“…Thank you, Your Highness,” she squeezed out. Then, as if steeling herself, she looked him straight in the eye and added, “I would very much like to see you again. Next time, without fail.”
Her polite words were a naked declaration of war.
“Sure. If you want it that desperately, I suppose I can oblige.” He shrugged.
Erika said nothing more. She accepted the box, gave him a formal bow, and turned to leave the stage—never once dropping the hostile glare she kept fixed on him. Mikhail found the insolent attitude incredibly charming.
Once all the winners had left the stage, Laura stepped forward again.
“With this, we conclude the awards ceremony for the 1st Far East Maritime Province Grand Duke Cup Texas Hold’em Tournament! But it would be a shame to simply go home now, wouldn’t it?”
She flashed the audience an enchanting smile.
“We have prepared a grand banquet for everyone. Please enjoy yourselves to your heart’s content and help us make the final night of this festival shine even brighter!”
The moment Laura finished speaking, a massive door on one side of the hall opened silently upward, revealing the enormous banquet hall hidden behind it. Gorgeous chandeliers, tables overflowing with every delicacy imaginable, and an orchestra playing sweet music. Faces all across the venue lit up with delight. The crowd began moving toward the banquet hall as if they had been waiting for this exact moment.
Mikhail watched them silently for a while, then walked over to Laura.
“Good work.”
“You flatter me.”
Laura gave an elegant bow.
“I’m getting tired, so I’m going to rest. I’ll leave the cleanup to you.”
Mikhail yawned theatrically and headed behind the stage. The lively noise of the banquet gradually faded into the distance behind him.