After some sleep, she did feel revived.

Luo Wei pushed herself up from the grass; beads of morning dew pattered off her magic robe.

Gladys was still snoring, short silver hair fanned over the lush weeds, jeweled with tiny dewdrops.

Hol shook her shoulder hard—no response.

Luo Wei’s eyes lit. She drew a few strips of beef jerky from her pack and held them beneath Gladys’s nose.

Before she reached a count of three—“Awoo”—Gladys clamped onto the jerky; her mouth started before her mind woke.

Luo Wei couldn’t help a soft laugh and tucked the damp hair behind Gladys’s ear.

It was a little past eight. The red dawn glow had long faded; the sun still hadn’t broken through.

A low, heavy overcast pressed down—rain seemed likely.

They didn’t bother with a fire. They chewed dry rations in haste and set off again.

Luo Wei took out her tortoise shell for a cast.

She’d meant to seek the positions of remaining magic beasts, but her right eyelid kept twitching; she decided to read the day’s fortune first.

The stars looked ill. The pattern pointed to Kang—the second mansion of the eastern Azure Dragon—ominous.

She didn’t know much, but her past life studies left fragments: Kang’s sign linked to the Zhen Hexagram (upheaval, things toppling) and the Lin Hexagram (approach, vigilance, clearing obstacles).

Meaning: their current gains could still shift—maybe end up a wasted effort. Stay alert; remove what hinders them; turn misfortune.

What obstacles remained? Either a brutal magic beast—or other academies’ interference.

Head aching, Luo Wei stowed the shell. She’d hoped to relax in the final hours; instead she had to stay taut.

“Slow down. Watch for ambushes,” she murmured.

“Got it,” the other four answered.

Along the way they found plenty of signs of earlier fights, plus many small magic beast corpses.

Hol crouched, touched one. “Stone cold.”

“Search it once,” Luo Wei said. “If nothing’s left we move on.”

They swept the woods—then all shook their heads.

“Picked clean.”

“Go. We’ll check higher.”

They climbed a mountain; at the summit—still nothing.

“Did everyone kill them all already?” Jack flopped onto a rock with a sigh.

“Probably. It’s the second day,” Hol said, lowering his heavy bundle and resting his feet.

Gladys’s ears twitched; she turned toward the far slope. “Fighting.”

“Let me see.” Jack leaned out. “Who’s that lucky—still finding beasts now?”

Down in the trees, multicolored flares flashed—an intense battle. Through gaps he glimpsed figures.

“It’s the Taslonte team,” Axina judged after watching. “They’ve got a mid-sized magic beast.”

At “mid-sized,” envy showed on every face.

“Twenty points. Why not us?” Hol lamented.

Jack stayed upbeat. “Keep at it—we’ll find one.”

“Let’s go,” Luo Wei said, pulling her gaze away and heading downhill.

At the foot, the Taslonte squad had just finished. Hearing footsteps, they turned warily.

“Siria Magic Academy,” one recognized from the robes.

Taslonte’s captain was a refined-looking girl—rare among the ten academy team lineups.

The two squads met; tension skimmed the air.

“Good day, everyone.”

Luo Wei had meant to pass by directly, but the Taslonte captain greeted first.

“Allow me to introduce myself. Novia Perkin, captain of Taslonte’s Lower Division magic squad.” She dipped a curtsey.

Courtesy required Luo Wei to halt. “Hello. Luo Wei, captain of Siria’s Lower Division squad.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Novia smiled lightly. “My cousin at Siria often mentions your name.”

Luo Wei guessed who she meant. “She often mentions you too.”

“Oh? What does she say?” Novia asked, curious.

“She says her cousin is outstanding—studying at Taslonte Noble Magic Academy, top three in the Western Continent.”

“Thank you for the praise,” Novia said breezily. “You’re interesting—just like she said. You project the aura of the strong.”

“Thank you.” Luo Wei inclined her head with a polite smile.

This Novia didn’t fully match Jane’s descriptions—Jane had painted a haughty girl who often shot her mocking looks.

After a few polite lines, Luo Wei led her team away first.

Watching their backs recede, Novia tilted her head and told her squad, “Come on—follow them.”

“We’re not going up the mountain?” a teammate asked, puzzled.

“They just came down. You think anything’s left up there for us?” she countered.

“But if we tail them we still won’t get anything.”

“Who says?” Novia narrowed her eyes. “Before the contest, Snake Academy’s captain talked about teaming with a few squads to block their path.”

“With the contest nearing the end, they should be ready to act.”

“I just observed the Siria squad. Those people aren’t simple. Snake Academy might not beat them. If we follow, once both sides are worn out, we can destroy their spoils.”

Judges couldn’t watch every squad every second; scoring had gaps. Final tallies relied on verifying physical spoils.

Meaning: a team’s final points still depended on how much loot they could present at the end.

Novia had studied the rules: you couldn’t use underhanded schemes to steal points already earned—but nowhere did it forbid destroying someone else’s spoils.

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