The rest of the day, Rita’s group ran into plenty of apprentices from other academies, but not a single clash broke out. The taunts, the face-slapping comebacks she’d imagined—none of it happened. No one was following her script. Fat Goose gave a dry comment. "You’re last year’s champion. Why would anyone pick a fight now? If they want to mock you, they’ll wait until after they’ve beaten you." Maple Syrup nodded. "Exactly. Talking big and then losing would just humiliate them." Mistblade added, "Or they could wait until you lose on your own and then come rub it in. Smarter than provoking you now." Motor chimed in, "Right, right. Even if you lose to someone else, that’s still fair game." Rita groaned. "Enough already... Change the subject." She spent the entire day wandering Dalaran with her squad and didn’t feel the slightest bit tired. Lightchaser and GodDraw77 had "kindly" made sure of that—forcing her to stop time, rest properly, then keep cranking out Scratch Cards after. Pure evil. Truly, one squad could not house two kinds of people. Back at Golden Hills, the two mentors were long gone. So were the weapons they had pulled and the pile of gold coins, leaving only stacks of parchment behind. Rita stowed away her purchases and all the odd trinkets and jewelry she couldn’t bring into the next match. During the Divine Game, their dorm rooms were magically secure—barring anomalies like GodDraw77 and Lightchaser. Thɪs chapter is updated by novel~fire~net For tomorrow’s match, her essentials remained the same: Wrathful Moon, Cat’s Ideal, and her enchanted academy satchel, which could carry a mountain of casting materials. Gold coins, however, were useless in-game. They weren’t magical items, so she could toss them into her satchel alongside pumpkins and winterfruit. Her main strategy was clear: steal a weapon if she could. That wasn’t exactly difficult for her. If circumstances made it impossible, then she’d fall back on Scratch Cards. After all, her obsessive hunt for a weapon-making skill was just contingency planning. She wasn’t in a rush. Lightchaser, oddly enough, had been more impatient than she was. Before dawn, spectators began pouring in. Blood Elf and Black Cat stood in line before the massive teleportation circle outside Golden Hills. Each activation could send ten thousand beings straight into their ticketed seats. Blood Elf asked, "Did Lightchaser or GodDraw77 go crazy at you yesterday?" Perched on her shoulder, Black Cat tilted its head. "Wait—they came after you too?!" Blood Elf still sounded baffled. "Yeah. They both messaged me, one after the other. I triple-checked before daring to open it. I even planned out how I’d refuse if they asked me for money. You know, the old classmates who crawl out of nowhere..." Black Cat muttered, "I doubt they’re desperate enough to beg you for coins." Blood Elf snapped, "Hey! You just insulted two elves and one druid in one breath!" Black Cat coughed. "It was just one insul—never mind. Anyway, I didn’t even know ’war-tier weapons’ existed until yesterday." Blood Elf rolled her eyes and dropped the conversation. By the time millions of spectators filled the arena, the apprentices were assembled outside their windmill lodges. The crowd was loud, but not unruly—just the noise of countless people waiting. Even during last year’s Divine Game, when emotions spilled over, it had been because of Rita’s chaos, not because she had truly conquered the audience’s hearts. Like the recent team match: thrilling, emotional, but never so intense that people lost control. She wasn’t there yet. Blood Elf gazed across the field of golden Kimbori flowers. Having just blocked Black Cat, she murmured, "From fifth year on, before every Divine Game... everyone would chant Lightchaser’s name." Black Cat gave a vague, "Mm." Blood Elf’s voice dropped. "Tens of millions of voices, all for her. The pain is that my own heart would join them, whether I wanted to or not." Black Cat swished its tail. "Don’t love too much." Blood Elf muttered, "Every conversation with you is miserable." Around them, nearby spectators had fallen silent. When she glanced around, a small smile tugged at her lips—familiar faces everywhere. The sea spirit beside her leaned over and asked, "I heard last year’s double champion was Lightchaser’s apprentice?" Blood Elf nodded. "Yeah. You’re here for her?" The sea spirit corrected, "I’m here to see my own apprentice defeat hers." Others perked up immediately. "No way her apprentice is another Lightchaser." "Didn’t she already brag she’d unlock GodDraw77 every year? Even Lightchaser never said that." "But she did win double champion last year. Lightchaser only managed one at her stage." "That’s because last year most of the real prodigies didn’t participate." "So you’re just here for the comedy?" "Why not? It’s not like Lightchaser can punch me." In the special seats, GodDraw77 had barely sat down when Wail pinned her with a stare. "The war-tier weapon. Show me." "Gone already," GodDraw77 said lightly. "Lasted twelve hours." A headmaster and a sky-whale leaned in from nearby. "What war-tier weapon?" GodDraw77 smiled sweetly, slipped ten Scratch Cards from her sleeve, and spread them like playing cards. "Want some? Five hundred coins apiece, first come first served." Wail grabbed one instantly, eager to study. She’d already seen Lightchaser’s weapon data yesterday, and even for her, it was a first. Her best weapon was Ancient, the same as Lightchaser’s sword. The other heavyweights, knowing Wail’s eye for quality, scrambled to buy the rest. In a flash, all ten were gone. GodDraw77 tucked away five thousand coins with deep satisfaction. Her expenses from last night’s frenzy, fully reimbursed. Lightchaser had scraped even more cards than she had. Scratch Cards were easy enough to understand—seconds to figure out how they worked. "World-class? You serious?" "What about the war-tier stats? Lightchaser pulled hers from this?" "Where did this artifact come from?" "Hey, Cinders, you got more? Sell me another!" Ancient elders, hundreds of years old, scrambling like kids. Overhead, crimson and sapphire cards blanketed the sky. In the Kimbori fields below, Rita stood bored, waiting for the flip to begin. Her gaze wandered to the special stands. There was GodDraw77, lounging with lazy elegance, legs crossed, arms draped casually. She even smiled, soft and serene—nothing like the wild Moonbear brawler from last night. Beside her, Wail and the other heads of academies all clutched Scratch Cards in their hands. GodDraw77 was hustling again. She just didn’t know who the mark was this time. Well... she was far enough away. Probably not her.