Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2815: Varox The Undefeated’s Crusade Against The Weak

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Three Mischief Encampment, Limitless Celestial Blood Fate Rule Domain

I patiently searched through Karl’s memories to finally understand what had happened to the Viltronians who came to the five regions, and how baby Jaya ended up in the dungeon. In the process, I also had to accept that my earlier assumption—that Viltronians grow stronger simply with age—was incomplete. I had failed to consider the impact of habitat on a species’ growth. I had this notion when I met Jaya and seeing her grow stronger despite her age using soul energy and active soul control percentage.

This misunderstanding stemmed from my belief that Viltron—the home planet of the Viltronians—was similar to Earth. It wasn’t an oversight or a careless assumption on my part; it came from the very first Viltronian I ever met. He told me that Viltron had once been just like Earth before it was destroyed in a massive space cataclysm. I trusted his words and didn’t question them—until I saw Jaya grow stronger despite her young age. I didn’t believe the Viltronian had lied to me—I believed something had been lost in translation.

Jaya’s development didn’t fit the age-based power model I had assumed for the Viltronians. This made me wonder whether the Viltronians on Viltron were also capable of what Jaya had achieved in the Card World. For that to be possible, Viltron would have to be rich in soul energy, like the Card world and unlike Earth. That ambient soul energy likely allowed them to break their limits far earlier than they otherwise would have with age alone.

Even Karl had never been to Viltron, but he had heard stories from his late parents and elders. From what I gathered, Viltron possessed an abundance of soul energy—greater than both the Card World and the Dark Realm. This meant the energy infused everything: the air they breathed, the water they drank, the food they ate. In effect, their daily intake was equivalent to consuming common or even uncommon-grade medicinal fruits. Such luxury only the members of the Royal and Major Noble families could enjoy.

In such an environment, it wasn’t surprising that Viltronians could reach higher realms earlier than they otherwise would have with age alone. Their growth wasn’t truly limited by age; age merely served as a benchmark for what a healthy Viltronian would typically achieve at a given stage of life. With proper nutrition it was possible for them to grow stronger breaking their natural limits.

This meant that the Grandmaster realm wasn’t the highest level a Viltronian from Viltron had achieved. There must have been many who reached the devil realm—just as there were numerous card demigods in the Card World and devils in the Dark Realm.

By nature, the Viltronians were a violent race that revered strength above all else. To them, strength was not just power—it was truth. The strong were inherently right, and the weak had no claim to morality. If someone suffered, it was simply proof of their inferiority. In that sense, killing the weak was not cruelty, but a grim form of mercy—an act they believed ended useless suffering.

Unlike humans, Viltronians rejected cooperation in its pure form. They did not hunt or fight in groups out of necessity or trust. Survival was an individual burden. A Viltronian who failed to secure victory alone did not deserve to live—better to starve than rely on another. Strength had to be absolute, not shared.

Yet, this brutal individualism coexisted with a paradox: absolute reverence for the strongest among them.

One Viltronian rose far above the rest, his strength became undeniable, becoming something closer to natural law than authority. And Viltronians, who bowed to nothing, knelt to him.

Under such a figure, unity was not seen as cooperation, but as submission to strength itself. Guided by his might, instead of endless infighting, they turned outward. Their philosophy remained unchanged—they simply found a new way to adhere to it.

They began traversing the Myriad Realms, conquering worlds under the belief that they were bringing order... or, in their words, ”ending the suffering of the weak.” Entire civilizations fell not out of hatred, but because they failed to prove their might.

Thus, a race once consumed by internal slaughter became something far more terrifying—a unified, expansionist force. Not bound by loyalty, but by shared belief. Not ruled by laws, but by power.

A civilization that made entire realms tremble at the mere mention of its name. This transformation was credited to one Viltronian—said to be the strongest to have ever lived.

Varox the Undefeated.

Among a race where mothers culled weak offspring without hesitation, where adults rather die then seek help, and children could challenge and kill their elders to claim authority, unity should have been impossible.

But Varoc united them, not through diplomacy or ideology. He did it the only way a Viltronian ever could. He proved, beyond doubt, that he was a strength incarnate. He alone defeated and conquered his entire race. And in doing so, he didn’t change their nature— He gave it direction.

What he offered was not unity—it was duty. They had not abandoned their nature; they had perfected it. As the strongest race in the Myriad realms it was their duty toward the Myriad Realms to cull the weakness out of it. Hence, starting a crusade against the weakness itself.

They were no longer mere warriors. They were crusaders. Executors of the Myriad realm’s will: the strong endure, the weak are erased. World after world fell not to rage or ambition, but to inevitability. To the Viltronians, this was not war—it was correction. A crusade, not of faith, but of flesh and power. They did not simply believe in the survival of the fittest. They became its executioners.

However, like all greater civilizations this one too fell. However, its fall began way before the Space Cataclysm. When one Viltrorian saw through the so-called duty of their race, that Varox had united them on, he saw the suffering and pain they brought to the myriad realms trying to be the executioners of its so called will.

That person was none other than Madox Masters, the killer of the strongest, the peace preacher, the great betrayer, and Karl Masters’s ancestor, the founder of the so-called peace loving viltronian faction that abandoned their viltronian heritage along with their invincible bodies.