CHAPTER 859: 859: DIVINE GAME-CARD SWAP108

There were always two days of rest between rounds of the Divine Game, time for apprentices to recover and prepare.

The next morning, in the temporary cafeteria of the Moonlight Marsh dorms, Rita found Fat Goose and Mistblade. She set the feather on the table and said, after weighing her options, "Either of you want this? I need a skill that can conjure a weapon, and that’s all I want in exchange. You can try it first before deciding."

The feather was clearly better suited for Mistblade, with her fluffy ears and three tails. It was also far superior to most flight items sold inside Moonlight Marsh.

But Mistblade hesitated. "My blood-mist conjuring skill can be used to let someone else learn it, yes, but it’s precious. This feather alone isn’t enough."

She demonstrated by summoning a long blade made of swirling blood mist.

In team chat, she explained, "It doesn’t come with any weapon skills, but its damage scales off my highest base stat."

Rita hadn’t known that detail before.

She understood right away. Flight could be replaced in many ways, but a growth-type skill like this—useful even at Lightchaser’s level—was on another level. The feather was maybe a quarter as valuable.

And this was why their trading always worked. Rita could propose it without awkwardness, and Mistblade could refuse without guilt. No one got angry. That was how they worked.

Rita stepped back. "Then what if you let me use Motor’s \[Skill Analysis] to analyze your blood-mist weapon ten times?"

\[Skill Analysis] let a player study the knowledge behind a skill. You couldn’t learn the full ability, but you could pick up fragments of its core mechanics.

Like looking at a math problem—no full solution, but you’d glimpse the key formulas.

The smarter you were, the more knowledge you could use to build new skills of your own. Different minds, different routes, different outcomes.

It was perfect for scholars. The only catch was that analyzing someone else’s skill required their consent, and the skill had to persist. Instant-cast abilities left nothing to work with.

Rita thought of one of the rewards she’d seen in the skill library: \[Research Divergence]. It was similar but didn’t require permission. Any skill used on you three times or more could trigger it, granting you core knowledge and sometimes even fragments of related skills.

When Mistblade nodded, Rita turned to Motor, who had been enjoying the show. "One snowman and two glasses of Wrong Season?"

Motor: "Deal."

The trade was quick. Rita cast a weapon enchant that added fire, a skill taught by an SSS-class teacher at Moonlight Marsh. Motor cast \[Skill Analysis] on it. Once the analysis landed in Rita’s cart, she used it on Mistblade’s conjured blade.

Ten analyses later, Rita walked away with her head full of knowledge and a grave expression. Mistblade tucked away the feather. Motor stashed his snowman and his drinks. Everyone left satisfied.

Maple Syrup, who had been silently eating breakfast, suddenly set down her fork with unusual seriousness. "I’ve only met Lightchaser a few times, but after hearing you all talk about her for so many years, I’ve picked up some sense of her. Don’t you think Rita seems... both like Lightchaser and like Teacher GodDraw77?"

Mistblade, Fat Goose, and Motor: ???

Mistblade frowned. "...Now that you say it, kind of."

Rita’s looks, her aura, even her hair color were like GodDraw77. But her presence, her behavior, the way she could be infuriating—those all made anyone who knew Lightchaser think of Lightchaser instead. Sometimes it was uncanny.

Fat Goose muttered, "Yeah, makes sense."

Motor asked, "So what are you trying to say?"

Maple Syrup glanced around, lowered her voice, and said, "Forget it. Better not explain..."

Mistblade, Fat Goose, and Motor: !!!

At a nearby table, GodDraw77: ???

She swept her gaze over the room. Some apprentices looked enlightened. Some looked lost in thought. Some looked utterly baffled.

Even Mistake Answer and Reyhana were giving her that "so that’s how it is" kind of expression.

What? No, say it properly! What are you implying?!

...

Noon, Burrowbug Tavern in Dalaran.

Rita had been overthinking skills too long, so her teammates had dragged her out. Now she was eating as if making up for days of hunger.

Motor, transformed into a 7-centimeter-tall robot, complained, "Why is Cinnabar intel so damn expensive?!"

Dusksable, serving trays with an even more sour tone, snapped back, "He’s one of the favorites beneath the Cliff. If his intel isn’t expensive, whose would be?"

Motor huffed, "Moonlight Marsh are the team champions, you know."

Dusksable sniffed. "They’re listed too. Want one of theirs? Single or full-team package? I recommend the package. Three versions. 99 gold, 999 gold, or 9,999 gold. Buying?"

Motor hesitated, weighing his pouch, then was about to pull out 2,299 gold for Cinnabar’s file when a voice cut in from behind.

"Package deal. I’ll take the 9,999 gold version."

Rita and the others looked up from their plates.

Pine Bloom. With Frenzied Shark, Wither Monarch, Bearmud, and Autumn Deer.

If they weren’t using disguise skills, Rita and Mistblade would have been tempted to walk over and sell their own intel on the spot.

Mistblade, Fat Goose, and Maple Syrup had gone out of their way to ask GodDraw77 for special disguises. Too precious to waste now. Mistblade lowered her head again, full of regret.

"Give me Moonlight Marsh’s Motor. The most detailed version."

The words lit Motor’s eyes like a screen snapping from night mode to full daylight. Rita and Mistblade had to squint at the glare.

Cinnabar.

He immediately opened team chat, overflowing with emotion.

[Motor]: He cares about me so much, sigh.

[Motor]: Sure, he ended up in a small academy because his divine gift sucked, but when they mocked my base form, did I ever complain?

[Motor]: It’s been over ten years. I moved on. He hasn’t. And he’s supposed to be the older sibling. When will he grow up?

[Motor]: Look at me. I wouldn’t spend even a copper coin on him.

"Excuse me, boss?"

"Oh, the food’s fine. I just want to say, this intel I bought has seven errors and twelve missing details."

"Payment? I don’t need payment. I’ll tell you for free. But I insist on one condition—you must sync the corrections to everyone who already bought this report."

"I am Cinnabar of the Cliff. That’s proof enough of my accuracy, isn’t it?"

"Good. Then let’s fix it."

Motor: "..."