CHAPTER 769: 769: DIVINE GAME: CARD SWAP 18

On the way to the city, Lightchaser had been changing appearances frequently. Now, standing at the outskirts of Asaein, she finally dropped her disguise and returned to her original form.

She tossed a neatly folded set of cloth armor and a pair of soft leather boots to Rita. "Asaein values etiquette and aesthetics. It’s not just vanity—taking time to present yourself well is a form of respect, both for yourself and for others. Once you enter Moonlight Marsh, you’ll be representing more than just yourself. You’ll represent Asaein."

She paused, then added, "But don’t waste too much time on it."

Seeing the confused look on her apprentice’s face, the elf continued.

"Beauty doesn’t always mean power, but true power is always beautiful.

"Potions, machinery, magical items, enchantments, blacksmithing—even fine wine and gourmet food—these creations, even if you don’t understand them, the more powerful and refined they are, the more exquisite they look. Even a child on the street could tell the difference.

"The same applies to powerful skills. Every one of them is beautiful: the beauty of fluidity, of balance, of extremes, of boldness, of dominance, of defiance...

"Many skills were born when people experienced emotional surges from nature or art. They weren’t taught—they were felt, seen, understood. A skill you comprehend on your own is always more compatible than one you’re handed.

"Your emotions run deep. That’s a rare gift. Don’t push them away.

"Every being has something called a soulflame. The more complex and rich your emotions, the more beautiful your flame becomes."

Rita made a mental note of every word.

Lightchaser never taught from a lesson plan. On the road, she taught as things came to mind, her instruction unpredictable and scattered—like now, going from grooming tips to the philosophy of the soul.

Some points she’d elaborate on; others she’d toss out in passing. As she’d once said: she never repeats herself.

"So... is my soulflame pretty?"

"...Not the worst thing I’ve seen."

"Is soulflame really important?"

"It reveals a person’s true nature, and it has some surprising effects. For instance, most disguise spells only affect your appearance. But if someone can see your soulflame, and yours is as unique as it is, any disguise will fail instantly. Only a handful of top-tier disguise techniques can mask both body and soul."

"What about the one I just got, Not Real ID? Can it disguise my soulflame?"

"Haha. No."

Rita: ...

That "haha" stung.

She couldn’t help but feel disappointed. She thought she’d scored a game-breaking spell, but apparently, there was a major flaw.

Lightchaser added, "Don’t be greedy. Skills that reveal soulflames are even rarer than high-tier disguise spells."

That didn’t really make Rita feel better—because Lightchaser obviously had one of those rare skills. Otherwise, how would she be able to describe Rita’s soulflame?

Even while waiting in line to enter Asaein, dressed in her new outfit, Rita hovered by Lightchaser’s head, pestering her to describe what her soulflame looked like.

Usually, talking to the elf required her to crane her neck back so far it felt like her spine would snap. For the sake of her neck, she now just flew while speaking—though it made her look like some cute familiar tagging along with a massive elf.

Lightchaser kept swatting her away, clearly out of patience. But Rita showed no fear and kept bugging her.

Asaein had multiple city gates, each heavily guarded, but the line moved quickly.

Suppressing her rising irritation, Lightchaser tossed ten gold coins to the guard—their entry fee.

Anyone entering Asaein who wasn’t a student of Moonlight Marsh had to pay five gold, even if they were residents. If you left Asaein, you were treated like an outsider all over again.

Once inside the city, Rita finally stopped pestering.

She began orbiting Lightchaser in one-meter circles, facing every direction and occasionally bursting out with "Wow!", "Amazing!", "Oh my god!", or "Lightchaser, look at that!"

Lightchaser silently pulled out a sleek metal mask and a pair of sunglasses, putting them on without a word.

Asaein didn’t disappoint—it was indeed a massive city. Even the stray animals walking the streets looked fashionable.

When Rita voiced this observation near Lightchaser’s ear, the elf clamped a hand over her mouth.

Through clenched teeth, Lightchaser hissed, "They’re just like you—magical beings. When you start school, if you don’t want to get punched, don’t ever say crap like that again."

Poor Rita’s face was squished into doughy strips between the elf’s fingers.

She nodded solemnly, thinking back to the mongoose in Gilane.

After a pause, Rita suddenly looked regretful and conflicted. "So... back at the underground arena, when I told the audience to stop barking like dogs, was that considered trash talk or... something else?"

Lightchaser: ...

...

That afternoon ended up being one of the happiest days Rita had since arriving in this world.

Lightchaser, for some reason, seemed to be in a good mood and took her around the city for a stroll.

Whenever something interesting popped up, Lightchaser would drag her in to check it out.

Not for herself—Rita was sure of that. The elf seemed to be enjoying things way more than she was and often forgot she was even there.

Like now, when she casually ducked into a tavern marked "No Minors" and ordered a giant bucket of ice-cold beer.

Left outside, Rita floated sulkily to the window, staring at Lightchaser through the glass like a ghost.

Lightchaser theatrically slapped her forehead. "Oh no, I forgot about you."

Rita pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, hovering there like a specter while Lightchaser enjoyed her drink.

Eventually, a server brought out a cup of juice and handed it to her. Lightchaser passed it to her apprentice. "Here. A drink, on me."

Rita took it one-handed and sneered, "I’m not the kind of cub you can buy off with a glass of juice."

"It cost 125 gold," Lightchaser said.

What?! That’s like... an eighth of a semester’s tuition at Moonlight Marsh!

Eyes wide with awe, Rita reverently lifted the cup with both hands and took a cautious sip, brows furrowing as she savored it.

Meh. Honestly, she thought the juice that Fan Xiangxiang casually made was better.

Lightchaser grinned. "Good, right?"

Rita nodded stiffly, clearly forcing it. "...Delicious."

Lightchaser pointed toward the bar, where a self-serve juice station sat unattended. Every other customer was getting their own drinks—only Lightchaser had hers delivered by a server.

"It’s actually free," she said.

Rita: ...

Lightchaser is the worst.

"Do you know what this teaches you?" the elf asked.

Rita immediately wiped the sour look off her face, straightening up. "I’m listening."

Lightchaser paused for a few seconds. Just as Rita started wondering if she was too dumb to catch on, the elf said solemnly:

"Free juice tastes worse."

Rita: ...

So childish!