All the apprentices charged at the kapybaras. The kapybaras were visibly panicking! Rita kept shouting orders. "Slow down, slow down! You don’t want to miss the chance to observe, right? Cooperation and mutual gain! Don’t push too many at once!" She made sense. Since it concerned everyone’s collective benefit, the apprentices slowed and, after a quick discussion, decided to herd them into groups of fifty or so at a time and observe together. Fifty per round, forty-some rounds, all done. Thirty minutes was plenty to push every kapybara off the island. Maple Syrup and a few others were working together to herd some kapybaras toward the edge. Motor muttered, "Gods, when she pushed that first kapybara, didn’t she ever stop to think that it could’ve been Lightchaser?" Fat Goose sighed. "If I were her, I wouldn’t dare think about it." Mistblade looked at Blue-striped Bluru, full of passion as she rallied everyone to push their teachers into the sea slowly and in order, and couldn’t help remarking, "That’s how she treats the softest part of her heart?" Motor groaned. "I don’t even want to imagine how she treats the parts that aren’t soft." Rita, maybe overhearing, changed her tone mid-command. "Remember, these are our teachers! Be gentle! I know it hurts—we’re all suffering. Just thinking about what we’re doing now makes me want to cry. But we have no choice." "I’m crying nonstop." Rita raised her fin high. "Charge! Winning this game and reclaiming the skills our teachers gave us is the best way to repay them!" Maple Syrup leaned toward her teammates. "Doubt Lightchaser, then understand Lightchaser..." Rita had to twist her entire fish body to face Maple Syrup, interviewing her like a reporter. "Classmate, does pushing your teacher into the sea hurt?" Maple Syrup’s fish-face grew solemn. "It hurts more than death." On the shore, Foolishness, who had been watching quietly, turned to Deceitful Bloom. "Weren’t you also supposed to be one of her soft spots?" Deceitful Bloom: "..." He turned to Drummer, perched on the next pier. "And weren’t you one of her soft spots too?" Drummer shot back, "...Not as big as yours, thanks." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel★fire.net Captain clinked his coffee cup against Drummer’s. "If saying that makes you feel better." Whether it did or not, GodDraw77 was already laughing so hard she could barely breathe. She nudged Wail. "I’d pay to see Lightchaser’s face right now." Wail wanted to see too. Magic runes flickered across her eyes as she scanned row after row of spectators. But with tens of millions in the stands, finding a disguised Lightchaser was nearly impossible. Blood Elf and Black Cat had both turned their burning gazes on the pink-haired dwarf. At this point, neither cared if they died. And not just them. Even the silent undead who had sat beside the dwarf since the start turned their gaze her way. Clearly, more than just those two had recognized Lightchaser. So no one cares about living anymore? She drew a slow breath, eyes fixed forward on the screen, mind already spinning through hundreds of possible "lesson plans." Until the apprentices hurt them, the kapybaras couldn’t fight back. That meant even when they tried to run across the island, they couldn’t escape the apprentices’ hands. Gradually, the island emptied. More and more kapybaras splashed into the sea. Some stayed quiet, floating in the water, but at least sixty percent of them fought back, hurling spells at the apprentices who had shoved them. But it was all manageable—their healing kept up fine. And those spells were distinctive. Enough to let the apprentices recognize who their teachers were. Clearly, many of the teachers wanted to be recognized. As the game ticked down, the kapybaras grew livelier, darting around the island, refusing to be shoved. Once their attack conditions unlocked, they unleashed their signature skills. Nearly eighty percent revealed themselves this way. Apprentices who succeeded left the island. The herd dwindled. Yet even when fewer than two hundred kapybaras remained, Rita still hadn’t spotted Lightchaser—or even anyone suspicious. With five minutes left, the island was empty. The kapybaras who had been correctly identified vanished. Only a few swam leisurely in the sea. On the ice, barely a hundred apprentices remained, those who still hadn’t found their teachers but refused to give up. Mistblade had already found Orpha. Fat Goose and Motor had both found their teachers. Only Maple Syrup and Rita were still searching. The two lay on the shore, peering at the drifting kapybaras. Rita asked, "Does your teacher have any defining traits?" The question stumped Maple Syrup. After a long pause, she said, "Merciful, patient. Even if a student is untalented, mediocre, he never rejects or abandons them." Untalented? Rita twisted her fish body to stare at Maple Syrup. Her tone was so heartfelt it was clear she was speaking of herself. But Maple Syrup and "untalented"? That didn’t fit. She had never picked up a skill in class, sure, but her grades were always solid. Even before her leave of absence to train under Wail, without the help of divine relics, Rita had needed to go all out to beat her. And merciful? Patient? If Rongsan was really like that, why hadn’t he revealed himself with a signature spell like the other teachers? Rita didn’t think teachers were obliged to, but still—the image didn’t fit. Maple Syrup didn’t explain. She didn’t want to talk about it. Instead she deflected, asking, "What about Lightchaser? What’s her defining trait?" Rita drew a deep breath. "Perfection. Lightchaser’s defining trait is perfection." Maple Syrup: "......" "...You’re only saying this now? Isn’t it a little late to cover your ass?" "Cover? What do you mean cover?" Rita flailed, indignant. "I was just stating a fac—" Before she could finish, she launched herself forward, unleashing Debone·Lightchaser straight at a kapybara that had just sneered. "I declare! This is my perfect teacher!" A wave slammed into her head. [Wrong identification.] Rita immediately swam to shore. Here, any angler could trade extra chances. She went straight to White Bear. "Hello, I’d like to exchange my C-rank skill, Rocket Technique, for another guess." Expressionless, White Bear reached into her fish body and pulled out the skill bubble. After confirming it, he took it. Her prompt appeared: one more attempt. Rita thanked him and shot off, racing toward another kapybara that had just rolled its eyes. If she didn’t hurry, that sly thing might move again. Watching Blue-striped Bluru’s eager little form dart away, Ashveil murmured, "I bet that even if she never finds Lightchaser, she won’t blame her for not making herself obvious like the others." Silence followed. Ashveil glanced around. Gods and demons nearby were all staring at Deceitful Bloom and Foolishness. White Bear scratched his belly fur with feigned focus. But with all eyes on him, he finally said, bewildered, "Really? I don’t know her that well." The Orchid Mantis, busy untangling fishing line, nodded. "...Not close."