She chose the elf who had pawned away a piece of its soulfire to sail a tiny boat through the River of Time and bring her back. She chose the woman whose eyes always softened with affection and pity whenever she mentioned her mysterious student—GodDraw77. She chose the present. The snowman in her hands no longer looked as fine or delicate as before. Its round little body was lumpy, its face bruised and dented, and one of its eyes had caved in. "From this day forward, you'll be my apprentice, Lightchaser's apprentice. Now, tell me your name." "Lightchaser Rita. Perfect. You were destined to be my student." That was where the story truly began. But as she worked, the snowman gained more details: a tiny tuft of snow like candlelight at the tip of its tail, a moon-fox fang made of frost hanging from one ear, a feather-shaped patch of snow at its waist, fine and perfect as an owlet's plume. That was part of the story too, even if some of those chapters were already ending. The snowman wore a cape, and under the skill's effect, the snowy fabric turned both soft and resilient, trembling lightly whenever the wind passed. Silver runes etched a moonbear across its back. That was the story's beautiful interlude. [Summer Snowman·Rita] (Rollback Count: 9) It was hideous. A snowman with no artistic merit whatsoever. If Valena could see it through the broadcast, she'd probably smile and curse in that colorful way of hers. Rita, however, couldn't help laughing—the most relaxed laugh she'd had in days. It was the first time she'd ever created a snowman with nine rollbacks on record. Just as she finished storing it away, Crab and Syntax returned with a block, their speed far better than Crab and NightFury's earlier run. Once they re-entered the shelf zone, the block automatically unbound itself. Crab handed it to Syntax and said, "See? I told you last round's slow pace wasn't my fault. Syntax doesn't spend every five seconds trying to stab me like NightFury does. Look how much faster I am!" Rita tilted her head. "So he's your favorite now, huh?" Crab nodded decisively. "Yup." Quex and NightFury had turned out to be a surprisingly effective duo as well. For the next forty minutes, their team ran smoothly. Whether they started fresh or stole kills, they brought back every required block in time. But as time passed, the number of surviving players dwindled. Corpses in the game lasted only a minute before fading into ash. Many had already died in the Fun Match—victims of Maple Syrup's blade, or caught in the chaos between Maple Syrup and Rita. Eighty percent of the schools' revival slots had been exhausted, so the team match started with fewer players than usual, and the count kept dropping—faster and faster. Bookshelves were vanishing one after another as they filled up and locked. The rules didn't say the whole team had to survive to win, but this mode's mechanics made every lost member double the difficulty. Once a team had fewer than three players, a single mistake could mean instant elimination. Most who lost too many teammates didn't even bother to stay—they just quit, rather than stick around to sabotage others. Everyone could see what was happening anyway: Moonlight Marsh's Rita and that red-haired menace who'd baked her own parents into cookies—Maple Syrup—were drifting closer and closer, eyes burning hotter with every glance. And Mistblade? She kept appearing and disappearing nearby like a ghost. Anyone dumb enough to insert themselves into that triangle might not even have time to log out before dying. When Rita returned with another block, Syntax asked curiously, "Are you sure you're gonna fight her? You could just finish the game first, you know." Crab, fiddling with a pumpkin hat, snorted. Teaming up with Rita had one purpose: to reclaim its stolen skill. But until it got it back, there was no reason not to use it. So after Rita handed it a few pumpkins, Crab naturally began crafting hats. The only annoying part was that everyone else could wear one—except Crab itself. At Syntax's question, it grumbled, "Please. In their eyes, no one else even exists anymore." The library's bell rang at the top of the hour. A shadow fell across Rita's face—and grew larger by the second. She reacted instantly, vanishing from her spot with Flash Step. When she looked up, she saw a massive orange sphere wreathed in roaring flames plummeting from the ceiling of the arena. A librarian. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the 𝗻𝗼𝘷𝗲𝗹•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝕟𝕖𝕥 Rita and Quex herded their chosen book monster toward the far edge of the battlefield. No one knew how strong this thing was yet, so everyone's first move was the same: get distance. The burning orange figure, easily five meters tall, landed with a heavy impact. After one sweeping glance, it lunged at the nearest apprentice. Slow though it looked, every one of its stats was far beyond theirs. If it caught a player within five seconds, that player's only ending was death. Worse, it attacked passing books at random, too. The difficulty spiked instantly. Now they had to dodge the librarian's pursuit while fighting other teams for blocks. It took Rita and Quex six full minutes to retrieve the next one, and they dove straight back into the fray without rest. The elimination rate shot up. That librarian stayed in play for forty-five minutes before finally vanishing. By the time it left, half the shelves in the stands were gone. Rita's own shelf was tilted and uneven, and Quex—who had taken over joystick duty ten minutes ago—didn't dare take her hands off it for even a second. The fifteen-minute break that followed was meant for recovery. Rita knew what it really meant: now that they'd seen the librarian's power and its time limit, the real test was about to begin. Another librarian descended from above—this one a warm yellow cactus. Every apprentice retreated. At the same time, shadows of trees swept across the floor. The sound of a forest wind filled the air—and the shadows lunged, wrapping around Crab, Quex, and Syntax. Rita spun her wrist. The dagger she'd been driving into a book monster suddenly reversed direction, clashing with the oncoming spear behind her. A sharp metallic ring split the air. The moment their weapons met, a status lit up in Rita's HUD—Nemesis. She kicked off into the air, twisting her waist and spinning sideways, body parallel to the ground. The spear swept past beneath her as her dagger slashed backward at her attacker. Sparks flew. Blades crossed. Short blade against long spear. They fought like two storms colliding—fast, relentless, neither giving an inch. Behind her, Crab's panicked yell rang out. "Well, great! Forget backstabbing her—she brought her own damn disaster with her!" "That's fine by me! I've been waiting for this!" Quex answered, her tone sharp and eager. Her hand moved like it was stirring water, her fingers plucking invisible strings. The magical elements around her whirled violently, gathering in her palm, then burst outward in a massive wave of power aimed straight at Crab. But someone else was faster—Frenzied Shark's thorned scythe and Pine Bloom's warhammer both cut through the air toward them. After all, who wouldn't want a divine relic that only recognized the strong?