Ever since she regained her memories, Maple Syrup’s attention had never really been on Arisentna’s Divine Game anymore. Her focus had shifted—to the Divine Game called Card Swap, to the war between Lania Kaia and BlueStar.
Killing BS-Rita while also taking the Fun Match championship would be ideal. But if she couldn’t kill her, then she’d drag BS-Rita down with her.
BS-Rita had already claimed five championships and even triggered a GodDraw77 once. Maple Syrup couldn’t allow her to win again.
Those two years of her disappearance—she must have returned to BlueStar. Maple Syrup couldn’t be sure how long she had stayed there, but one thing was certain: when Lania Kaia’s invasion began, BS-Rita couldn’t have solved it.
So now that she was back in the game, perhaps the solution to BlueStar’s crisis was here.
Whether it was or wasn’t didn’t matter. Before BS-Rita could truly become Lania Kaia Rita, Maple Syrup had to stop her from growing any further.
The candle flames along the library’s walls had formed into a countdown.
Only seven minutes remained. Both of their mana bars were empty, and no skill could replenish them. They were riddled with nearly a hundred negative status effects—gifts from the other students still fighting.
The shadows of the trees had long since vanished; even the strongest abilities had limits. Maple Syrup could no longer rely on her forest of shadows to shield herself.
Even so, she could still follow Rita into the shadow world and fight her there. Rita had tried several times, but eventually had to drag Maple Syrup back out—inside that world, Maple Syrup clearly had some kind of bonus she couldn’t match.
But when the students unleashed massive wave attacks, the two of them would instinctively dive into the shadow world together to avoid the blast.
Almost the entire library was now crammed onto the third floor.
Even students who had hidden at the start had come, hoping to pick up something in the chaos.
They treated Rita and Maple Syrup like raid bosses—charging in, dying, respawning, and charging again.
A spear pierced BS-Rita’s heart, pinning her to the library wall. At the same time, her dagger drove through Maple Syrup’s chest.
Both struck true, both landed critical hits.
Rita’s health dropped below five percent. School Rule No. 801 had long cooled down from her endless critical chains, and she immediately triggered it to cast Mystic Force again.
But a message popped up before she could.
The skill no longer belonged to her. She had no permission to use it.
Maple Syrup had stolen it with Temporary Betrayal.
That skill could deceive another player’s ability, making it forget who its real owner was. A kind of "false ownership," lasting three natural days. During that period, the user couldn’t steal any other skills.
It was a perfect loophole—outside the jurisdiction of The Right to Interpret.
Back in their academy days, she, Mistblade, and Fat Goose had all envied Maple Syrup for having it.
Maple Syrup used to love hijacking GodDraw77’s most spectacular skills during class, filling the room with fireworks and illusions. She’d show off again and again, and the others would crowd around her cheering like idiots.
They’d jump, laugh, and wave their hands together, a pack of overexcited children with divine powers.
So why use it only now? Why not back when Rita first activated Mystic Force?
Rita gritted her teeth, gripping her dagger tight. Then she used Moment of Reversal, swapping health with a nearby full-HP student to restore herself completely, and followed it with her final Nebula Bubble.
Maple Syrup responded by activating Mystic Force herself.
Behind them, thousands of attacks from every direction were about to crash down.
They both tightened their grips on their weapons, neither retreating into the shadow world this time.
Rita’s bloodied hand clenched around the spear shaft, refusing to let Maple Syrup pull it free. Her lips were stained red, but she was still smiling.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked softly.
Maple Syrup’s brow twitched.
Behind her, the rabbit leapt high, golden lightning coiling like a serpent around its whip.
Rita’s hand slipped from the spear. In her palm appeared a tiny snow owl made of winter frost, arms folded with a mischievous grin.
"I need to tell you something." Rita looked up at her, smiling with genuine gratitude. "Thank you for getting rid of Mojie."
She had worked hard to store Pomango’s Crime Simulation and Mojie’s Low-Risk Investment in her Send Me the Link inventory. Those two skills were like kindling—she’d saved them inside her snowmen, ready to be used at the right time.
Her distortion earlier hadn’t just been to buy time. She’d wanted Maple Syrup to burn through her own numbers.
Rita didn’t need that many herself. All she had to do was make sure she had the most. That was why she only targeted players with negative numbers when she killed.
Too many numbers made calculations a nightmare. She already had hundreds; with Maple Syrup’s total added on top, she could barely think.
And just as she knew Maple Syrup, Maple Syrup knew her. The latter had been afraid she’d stored Low-Risk Investment all along, waiting to use it. That was why she’d held her Temporary Betrayal until now. And Rita had been waiting too.
—Low-Risk Investment.
Rita smiled faintly. "I know what you were waiting for. Just like I was waiting for your betrayal."
Maple Syrup’s expression turned to ice. Her entire stockpile of numbers vanished in an instant.
The rabbit’s golden eyes swiveled toward Rita.
The moment it lunged, Rita kicked Maple Syrup backward. The spear tore free with a spray of blood.
As she fell, Rita activated another skill—Waste Guide.
The fury burning in Maple Syrup’s eyes, the attacks flying through the air, the rabbit mid-lunge—all stopped.
Only Rita remained moving.
Landing lightly, she cast a healing spell on herself and looked for an open space. Then she sat down, pulled out her pumpkin pen, dipped it in blood, and began scribbling calculations across a sheet of dried leaves.
She had to find out just how close her total numbers could get to two.
Maple Syrup’s stash had been enormous. Even after nine minutes of consumption, she still had 1,621 numbers left.
Combined with Rita’s own, the total now reached 2,233. Conveniently, four times something plus one—the perfect format to cycle through addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division evenly.
But what would the result be?
Rita bent over her work for what felt like hours. Her pumpkin pens wore down one after another.
Finally, she reached it. Two. Latest content publıshed on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡~𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚~𝙣𝙚𝙩
She rummaged through her dagger’s storage and pulled out a white robe she didn’t remember stealing. She covered it in her calculations, just in case the final result had to be submitted manually.
Better safe than sorry.
She glanced up at the flickering candle shadow on the wall. 06:46.
She had deliberately left this window open for last-minute adjustments, but nothing could be safer than the perfect result she already had.
If she had the most numbers and the correct result, victory was hers.
And so, the time she’d saved for corrections suddenly felt unnecessary...