The audience was silent.
Then the black cat suddenly leapt to its feet, hopping wildly as it shouted, "I declare myself her disciple!"
Beside it, the blood elf still looked dazed. "That's... it? She already won?"
The cat jabbed Lightchaser with a paw. "Rita's mentor, hey—wake up!"
Lightchaser didn't bother scolding it. The tension drained from her shoulders, and a small, quiet smile crossed her lips. "Well done," she said softly.
The blood elf blinked. "So what kind of skill was that? It's too strong—she just killed instantly."
Lightchaser shook her head. "I don't know. But sometimes the drinks she brews lead to special skills. And this time, her ingredients were... extraordinary."
The cat tilted its head. "But doesn't that mean she can't fly anymore? What'll she do in air battles?"
Lightchaser glanced at her student's peaceful expression, a faint curve tugging at her mouth. "If she believes it was worth it, then it was."
Rita floated inside the blue light pillar, looking down once again at Maple Syrup standing on her card below.
Crab, Syntax, Quex, and NightFury hadn't entered the pillar with her. Rita had taken the hidden mission route to victory, one that had nothing to do with her team.
Fat Goose sighed as he stared at his friend bathed in the glow. "Dragged down by you all again..."
Mistblade lowered her gaze and smiled faintly. "This world was always one big lie. There's nothing left to cling to."
Fat Goose's eyes flicked toward her, watching her profile from the corner of his vision. But her expression was different now—veiled, distant, almost like a stranger.
A cold shiver ran through him. He stopped pretending to glance and looked straight at her instead. Mistblade caught his gaze, smiled softly, then turned away.
Not far away, Maple Syrup also turned her back and walked off through the crowd.
Two silent silhouettes walked in opposite directions, away from the light pillar, until both disappeared down the stairs of the Twilight Library rooftop—away from all the noise, all the cheers.
Only then did Mistblade sigh. "You should have used that skill on me before the team battle."
Maple Syrup's tone was cold. "It's not too late now."
That glass of [Forest Sea] had not been wasted.
In addition to [Nemesis], she had gained another skill—one that came from a one-percent chance.
[All Are Drunk] (SSS): "All the world is drunk, and you alone are awake—is that fortune, or is it doom?"
Cast on any target to awaken their soul, making it as lucid as yours. If you are dreaming, this skill will drag a waking soul down into the dream with you. Permanently consume any one attribute point to manifest imagination into reality. While active, the skill consumes 1% mana per second. Cooldown: two hours.
When Rita looked away from their departing figures, she realized that every spectator in the arena was staring at her, waiting—silently demanding words to end the show.
They had seen everything.
Friends turned against friends.
Blades drawn against bonds.
She had brewed their friendship into a drink.
Floating in the light, she seemed almost fragile.
Her strength and defiance often made people forget—she was only fifteen.
Her calm under pressure made them overlook how striking she had grown, how her beauty was beginning to match her teacher's.
Or would she cry again for what was lost?
Rita glanced toward where Mistblade and Maple Syrup had vanished down the stairs. She blinked quickly, then flashed a dazzling grin. Her voice came out rough, but steady.
"You're all fired up too, aren't you? Watching me take down such a strong opponent?"
As the crowd roared, she spoke again—slowly, deliberately—quoting from [Sin of Arrogance]:
"I cannot endure mediocrity—neither mine, nor my enemy's."
"She was worthy of the fight. And I won beautifully."
Half the crowd went wild, dancing, screaming, shaking the stands as though struck by lightning.
The fire that had burned since the Fun Match reignited in an instant.
The black cat howled, jumping on its seat. "Why couldn't you say something like that when you won your championship?"
Before Lightchaser could answer, the blood elf said dryly, "Because all she ever shouted was, 'Sorry to disappoint you—it's my time again!'"
The cat added helpfully, "Or, 'Say my name—now!'"
Lightchaser's expression froze.
...She decided this was a good day to not hit anyone.
The blood elf wasn't done. "Oh! Or that other one—'If your kids are joining the Divine Game next year, make them wait till I graduate so they don't waste their time!'"
"And! 'I know you hate me and adore me all the same—but none of that matters. The only way to make me remember you... is to defeat me.'"
For several seconds, cat and elf stared at each other. Then, at the exact same moment, they both hugged themselves and shivered theatrically before bursting into laughter.
A shadow rose over them, dark and slow, swallowing the cat's seat in silence.
The cat's grin froze as it stared at the shadowed Lightchaser.
It lifted a paw to its mouth and murmured, "Ah—oh."
A scream rang out. Googlᴇ search 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝※𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖※𝕟𝕖𝕥
A black cat flew from the back row to the front, landing squarely on a Sharkfin Clan student's head.
It slid down, clawing through their carefully maintained hair and snapping off a lock in the process.
That was all it took.
The audience's pent-up energy finally exploded—the best way to celebrate victory was, apparently, a brawl.
In the waiting area for contestants, Crab, NightFury, Frenzied Shark, and Quex were glaring at Pine Bloom.
Crab had been killed. The final blow had come from Pine Bloom, and [Whale Falls in the Wind] now rested in her hands.
If not for the Twilight Library's headmaster—Crab's official mentor—using special privileges to grant it a revival slot, Crab would already be gone.
NightFury and Quex had been the top two damage dealers in that fight.
But the angriest one there was Frenzied Shark. He had been part of every clash over that relic, and it was his skills that had made victory possible. His ability perfectly countered [Whale Falls in the Wind]'s ultimate defense. Without him, no one could have taken it.
And yet—both times—he got nothing.
He had burned himself up only to warm everyone else.
Luck 3 really was cursed.
Rumor had it that Windrush from Golden Hills also had a Luck of 3...
Maybe he should talk to her. Word was, she'd been spending her weekends visiting ancient ruins, kneeling for hours in some old ritual called "bai bai."
He used to believe in skill over fate. Luck, he'd thought, was an excuse for the weak.
But after being beaten black and blue by luck itself... he understood now. He wanted to try "bai bai," too.
Crab, NightFury, and Quex circled him, voices low and sharp.
"Team up?" they said together.
Frenzied Shark smirked.
"Sorry," he said coolly. "I'm not interested in divine relics."