CHAPTER 791: 791: DIVINE GAME: CARD SWAP 40

Mistblade hadn’t returned, even with just three days left before school started.

On the way back from Junk Street that day, Lightchaser asked,

"Are you going to Gilane to look for your friend?"

Rita shook her head.

"She hasn’t sent me a letter, and her griffin never came for me. Her life isn’t my responsibility."

Lightchaser seemed satisfied with that answer. She even personally rode her motorcycle to drop Rita off at the gates of Moonlight Marsh on the first day back.

And right there at the gate was Mistblade, clearly waiting—until the moment she spotted Lightchaser. Then she turned and bolted.

Lightchaser let out a low laugh and called,

"Tell your friend what I prepared for her next to the goblin head."

Rita thought it was childish, but she still cooperated and shouted,

"A wooden plaque—for hanging a tail!"

Mistblade ran a few more steps into the school in panic.

Rita jumped off the back of the bike, waved wildly at Lightchaser and yelled,

"Bye!"

Then she darted through the gate.

From then on, Mistblade returned home during every long break.

Lightchaser never did chop off her tail and hang it up. In fact, she quietly allowed Mistblade to spend short holidays back at her place—after Mistblade gave a reason Lightchaser couldn’t quite argue with:

"They and I are the last few Moonfoxes in Kasilanar. And I’m the one with the best shot at becoming strong—I can’t just ignore them."

That turned Mistblade’s trips home into something near-holy.

Lightchaser rolled her eyes at least three times over it.

But from that point on, Mistblade started working herself to the bone. Whatever hit her must’ve also hit Maple Syrup and Fat Goose, because their effort level skyrocketed too. The four friends who used to move around as a group barely saw each other anymore, except during meals or the occasional class.

...

The Divine Game after second-year Winterveil was hosted right in Moonlight Marsh—but Rita didn’t see any of it.

She spent that winter break in the arena.

Not the basic arena like before. This time, every opponent she faced had an awakened divine gift, and not one of them was under level 15.

Before she was thrown into the underground arena, Lightchaser handed her a new spatial bag, replacing her Moonlight Marsh platinum-white school satchel.

"In this arena," she said, "no one will know you’re from Moonlight Marsh. Not even the arena’s owner."

Rita figured even if she’d kept the Moonlight Marsh backpack, no one here would’ve cared.

Lightchaser hadn’t brought her via motorcycle or mount—she’d used several teleportation circles instead.

This winter break was brutal—but rewarding.

With Forged Records as a cover, she found time every week to use Moment Reversal to shift a stat or two higher. But she always remembered York’s warning from Junk Street: don’t get greedy.

Not that she could even if she wanted to. Lightchaser had handpicked this arena. The opponents all had slightly higher stats than her—usually only 20 or 30 points more. She could use I Just Want to Improve So Badly mid-fight to steal from them.

Maybe Lightchaser had arranged it that way. Her stats grew steadily, but so did the difficulty of her opponents. More than once, she left the ring looking like a beaten stray dog.

But this was the girl who ranked first in her year at Moonlight Marsh.

Her teacher was Lightchaser.

And as long as she didn’t forfeit, she could keep fighting. She was extremely hard to kill. Against tough enemies, she could use her Summer Snowman to rewind time. And if it broke, she could make a new one on the spot.

And now, if she ran into an enemy she had no chance of beating, she had one more trump card: Mysterious Power.

In 1v1 arenas, that discount-sounding skill was god-tier.

Like now—after her health had locked at 1 HP, she ground down the arena’s most beloved orc champion over two full hours.

January was Divine Game season, but some creatures didn’t care. They came to the arena to kill time.

There were no rules here. The crowd heckled relentlessly, and no one gave Rita a break for being a kid.

She’d had enough.

When the referee announced her victory, she placed her hand to her ear and struck a pose. Her little mouth went into overdrive.

"Louder! Let me hear your dog barks again! What, cat got your tongues now?"

"That was your strongest fighter? Please! He was more fragile than the cookie I ate yesterday!"

"Who? Who called me a baby?"

"I’ll let you in on a secret—I never drank milk growing up. I was raised on blood. I’m a living legend!"

"Don’t call me Bird Girl. Call me Phoenix!"

From the stands, Lightchaser: ......

Sitting beside her, tiny Wail, legs too short to touch the ground: ......

Both of them subtly checked their disguise spells. Still active. Good.

After a long silence, Wail muttered,

"If she talks like that when she enters the Divine Game, make sure she doesn’t mention she knows me."

Lightchaser blinked blankly, as if she’d just woken up.

"Who? You mean that phoenix in the arena? She’s your new apprentice? Since when? What’s her name again? Wow, Teacher, your judgment in picking students is just amazing."

Wail: ...Now you want to pin her on me?

...

When second-year winter break ended, it was already February of Year 169.

Back in Asaein, people were still chatting about the Divine Game.

"How long has it been since the last GodDraw77? Over thirty years, right?"

"Ugh, each generation just gets worse."

"What are you even sad about? The GodDraw77 is from Moonlight Marsh. I don’t want a replacement anytime soon..."

"I just wanna see the GodDraw77 game again. Best case scenario? Someone triggers it, then loses. That would be perfect~"

"Right? I’d love that too."

"Divine Games were way better when I was a kid. Remember that elf who triggered GodDraw77 three years in a row?"

"Oh, I remember! That was the Lightchaser era, right?"

"Yeah—Moonlight Marsh. The Lightchaser Era!"

"Huh? What’s the Lightchaser Era?"

"You don’t know?!"

"Nope. I only know about GodDraw77."

Rita couldn’t hold it in anymore. She looked up at Lightchaser, who walked beside her in a red hood.

She didn’t know what had happened that year—and didn’t dare ask. The things those passersby were saying pierced like knives.

Lightchaser said softly,

"If you trigger GodDraw77 three years in a row, people will name an era after you, too."

The elf sounded calm. But Rita felt her chest tighten.

Because in that moment, a thought flashed through her mind:

So pain could be quiet. It didn’t always need tears.

She blinked hard, then smiled.

"’The Rita Era’ sounds a little clunky. ’Lightchaser Era’ rolls off the tongue better. Like ’the Blue Hour,’ right? A moment that lights up part of time."

Lightchaser kept her eyes forward and gave Rita’s head a gentle pat.

The elf’s silent pain and regret crashed through Rita’s heart like thunder in a quiet night.

It was as if she’d been shaken awake from a half-sweet dream.

And when she opened her eyes, the fairy tale on the pillow was already closed.

She used to treat this otherworld journey as a fun game.

And if the gods ever showed up and told her she could go home, she would’ve left happily, without hesitation. No matter how magical this world was—she still missed her family more.

She could give away the gaming console Fanxiangxiang had gifted her because, deep down, she believed she would return one day.

She never imagined she’d live her entire life in Asaein.

But that day—at the moment she heard the words "Lightchaser Era"—everything changed.

A dandelion drifting in the wind finally found a place to land and root.

She had a goal now.

If a god appeared now and offered to send her home, she’d beg for just a little more time.

Because there was one very important thing she had to do—something that couldn’t wait.

She would awaken the Lightchaser Era again.

GodDraw77 was impressive.

But she wanted the whole world to know what the Lightchaser Era meant.