CHAPTER 805: 805: DIVINE GAME- CARD SWAP 54

The two runes only appeared together for a fleeting moment, but it was enough to send a surge of adrenaline through every current and former student of Moonlight Marsh.

For the next two minutes, any damage dealt to her would be converted into healing.

And with the final two seconds of School Rule No. 801 still in effect, the 15-minute cooldown on this skill instantly reset. That meant she could guarantee it wouldn’t lapse before the game ended—or, if something went wrong midway, she could activate it again.

School Rule No. 801 was easily one of the strongest skills she’d gained since arriving in this world, second only to I Just Want to Improve So Badly, Moment of Reversal, and Mystic Force.

Even without ever seeing those dozen-odd matches later dubbed the "Lightchaser Era" of the Divine Game, Rita could guess just how crucial School Rule No. 801 had been in Lightchaser’s championship runs.

Even outside the Divine Game, this skill deserved to be a lifelong core ability.

And yet, Lightchaser had given it to her—before she’d even competed once, before she’d proven herself with results.

Maple Syrup and the others had once asked her why she was in such a hurry to join the Divine Game.

Her answer was simple: because of Lightchaser.

She never spelled out exactly why—whether it was because Lightchaser’s "Oblivion" had forced her hand, or because of all the things Lightchaser had done for her.

She often spoke of Lightchaser with gritted teeth, but whenever she thought back on the things she’d learned from her, all that anger dissolved.

In the quiet of night, doubt sometimes crept in.

Lightchaser had never taught her courtesy, compassion, forgiveness, or kindness.

The virtues she’d brought from her old world—things once seen as beautiful ideals—Lightchaser called "luxuries only the strongest have the right to possess."

Instead, Lightchaser taught her fearlessness, resilience, defiance, ambition, and the will to fight.

Rita couldn’t say for sure whether the values from her old world were more "right" or if Lightchaser’s teachings were more precious.

But she knew one thing: the new her had completely replaced the old one.

Attacks poured in from all directions, the cramped tunnel suddenly as packed as a national park during a holiday rush. The constant bursts of skill effects were dazzling enough to make her eyes ache.

Rita summoned her fire dragon, pressed her back to the wall, and went toe-to-toe with every player in sight.

The fiercest blows came from someone called Gale Rush. The number floating above her head was also in the five digits, starting with a 7—the highest among those attacking Rita.

Rita’s health and mana rose and fell in steady waves, but never dropped below 95%.

Her shortsword had already been shattered, and in her hand now was a weapon she’d taken from someone else—a pistol.

Mastery over weapon skills often shared certain similarities. Just as she’d wielded her shortsword, she now handled the gun the same way.

It was a sleek silver pistol, a legendary weapon called Viper’s Kiss. It fired magic bullets and had an innate ability: a critical hit would stun the target for three seconds.

With Rita’s close-combat skill, finding a weak point was as easy as breathing.

The barrel was her blade’s point. When she pressed it to a vulnerable spot, she pulled the trigger.

In less than thirty seconds, at least half of the players attacking her had been stunned.

She couldn’t help but shout, "This is way better than a dagger!"

Even the glare of skill effects couldn’t dim the spark in her eyes.

One minute remained.

A sudden wave of dizziness hit her—it was a psychic control skill, and an SSS-grade one at that.

A voice urged her to cancel her active skills.

With the effect reduced by 80%, Rita resisted the command, but her combat speed slowed.

She used Endless Autumn on herself several times until she triggered a perfect recovery at 10% chance.

Thirty seconds left.

She didn’t dare relax.

If anything, her tension grew.

The fun match’s championship was practically hers already, but there were still seven players fighting with everything they had, refusing to quit.

Even knowing they couldn’t kill her—or that killing her wouldn’t win them the crystals—they wouldn’t back off.

Hot-blooded fools? Putting on a show for the crowd outside?

No. That kind of pointless effort only made people laugh.

They had to have some card up their sleeve that could turn the game on its head.

Twenty-one seconds.

The glowing rune at her brow suddenly vanished and reappeared on Gale Rush’s forehead.

School Rule No. 805 had been stolen.

She instantly summoned Nebula Bubble, then pulled on her pumpkin helm.

A second later, the bubble was stolen too—now surrounding a green-winged Decidueye.

Rita snapped, "Are you kidding me?!"

Was the outside world really this filthy?

Seventeen seconds.

She activated School Rule No. 805 again, then spun the deep-blue helm to get out of there.

She couldn’t stay here—one more moment and she’d lose everything.

Just as the helm whisked her away, she thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar glow in a corner—fiery lightwings. Was that... herself?

A "future" version of her peeking out, with over 160,000 in wealth floating above her head.

Why had she come back? And where had she gotten over 10,000 more crystals?

In that last instant before the helm’s teleport finished, she saw the surprise and confusion in her attackers’ eyes—their gazes fixed squarely above her head.

Teleport complete.

When she landed, the first thing she did was not check a reflection to see her own wealth—there was no need to waste the time.

She’d already seen the answer in her past self’s return, and in the eyes of those other players.

Someone had swapped or stolen her wealth—and it was a lot. Enough to affect the outcome, or else she wouldn’t have come back.

What now?

Summer Snowman? Useless. Wealth wasn’t a "state," and lost crystals couldn’t be retrieved by rollback.

Absolute Freedom? She’d just used it—five-minute cooldown. She had only three snowmen left, not enough, and even making more wouldn’t be fast enough.

Temporal Stroll? Even if she went back, time would still be ticking, and with only 23 seconds left, she was too far from that place to make it in time.

School Rule No. 801? Still cooling down.

Waste Guide? Used in the first minute of the game, and its cooldown was the same as the game’s duration—six hours.

Maple Syrup said to Mistblade, "I can’t breathe."

"Me neither..." Mistblade replied.

Fat Goose was worse—clutching at his collar, gasping for air.

Then he found out why—a Blood Elf had both hands around his neck, roaring, "Tell me where she lives?!"

Mistblade couldn’t even look at the screen anymore.

Not that there was much of Rita to see. The number one spot now belonged to Mojie from Deep Sea Mine, with over 160,000 in wealth—Rita’s stolen fortune.

Maple Syrup said, "Let’s compete next year. Sitting here watching is torture."

Mistblade knew she was just trying to make conversation. She wanted to reply, but saying anything felt like accepting a certain ending.

In the sea of curses, she shouted, "It’s not over yet!"

Fat Goose tried to join in, but with his throat still in the Blood Elf’s grip, all he could do was reach out a trembling hand toward his friends: Help! Help!!

Following the sight of Fat Goose’s twisted face, Mistblade glanced at the Blood Elf’s level. After one second of silence, she stood up and yelled across the river, "Come on, it’s not over yet!"

She was busy—stop pulling at her!

From ship balconies up and down the river came different voices.

Moonlight Marsh itself was silent as a grave.

At the river’s peak, GodDraw77 and Wail remained calm and wordless.

In a corner of the stands, Lightchaser—disguised—was gritting her teeth at the constant insults and the barrage of private messages.

With a snarl, she yanked open her PM panel and blocked Wail and Cinders entirely.

Enough already. Stop spamming her.