"If you want to aim for GodDraw77, this year might be your last real shot. The second-years coming up are even more dangerous—Frenzied Shark and Autumn Deer from Little Dog Ranch, Crab, Orange White, and Quex from the Dusk Library, Guava and Loath from Golden Hills, NightFury and JE from Exiles’ Isle..."
"These guys might only be second-years, but they can already solo sixth-years."
Rita didn’t bother arguing with the gray marten selling the intel. She could solo sixth-years back when she was in second year too.
Instead of weighing her down, the news actually lifted her mood.
More strong opponents wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
For years now, Divine Game viewership had been steadily shrinking, with audiences claiming every season was worse than the last.
She didn’t want her own "Lightchaser Moment" to be remembered as a lucky fluke during the garbage years.
"What about Moonlight Marsh? Anything I should watch out for?"
Rita left the Burrowbug Tavern with a cold face. The Auberdine branch was disappointing.
Back in Grayvale, she found Mistblade waiting at her door.
Rita opened it and let her in. "Why didn’t you just message me? I’m not Lightchaser."
Mistblade didn’t step inside. She simply handed over a sharp fang. "I know what’s on your mind. I accept. Even if one day we have to cross blades, you’ll still be my best friend."
Rita took the fang and tucked it into her bag. She knew exactly how precious it was—Mistblade’s first shed canine. Moonfoxes only ever naturally lost two in their lifetime, and they were always given to their most important friend.
Rita now counted as one.
"My own shed teeth all got knocked out in the arena. You remember—I could barely talk without whistling. Would a game console work as our proof of friendship?"
Mistblade smiled. "Of course. I’ve kept it in perfect condition."
She held out her hand. "Next year’s team competition?"
Rita slapped it. "Next year’s team competition."
After Mistblade left, Rita waited a little longer. Soon, she heard footsteps behind her.
Maple Syrup handed her an orange-red feather. "I accept. I thought you’d be the one who couldn’t. If you really had, the moment you heard we wanted GodDraw77 too, you would’ve thought of us first."
Rita didn’t argue. She took the feather, sharp and elegant like a dagger.
[First Owlfeather]: The first feather an owlblade ever ignites, said to bring luck to its owner.
She pulled a green-based cocktail from her bag and handed it to Maple Syrup.
Seeing the surprise in her friend’s eyes, she said, "Only one glass. Even with the exact same ingredients, I’ve never been able to make it again. I figure you won’t drink it. As long as it stays sealed, our friendship will never disappear."
[Forest Sea]: Drinking has a 1% chance of granting an SSS-tier skill.
"Think it’s worthy of marking our friendship?"
Her answer was a crushing hug that knocked 5% off her HP.
"Seriously, how much Strength did you just put into that?!"
"You need more Constitution!" Maple Syrup smacked her back hard enough to thump.
"GodDraw77?" Rita asked.
"GodDraw77. Trust me, I have my reasons for needing it."
After Maple Syrup’s back disappeared down the hall, Rita called out, "If you don’t come out now, I’m going to bed!"
Fat Goose came jogging around the corner, holding out something that looked like a white antenna—no, a strand of white hair with its tip burning like a candle flame. "If you don’t give me something equally precious as a friendship token, I’ll be mad."
Rita held the flaming hair. It was a piece of fire from the Candlebeast, as rare and valuable as the First Owlfeather. But she didn’t put it away just yet.
Instead, she looked Fat Goose in the eye. "Can you really accept it? Even if we end up killing each other in the individual or fun matches, and it doesn’t hurt our friendship?"
Fat Goose was the most emotionally volatile of them all.
One day he’d love a teacher; if they smacked him down in class, he’d hate them the next. One day he’d dislike a classmate; if they helped him, he’d forgive them instantly.
He could play out a 70-episode drama all by himself.
With the three of them, though, he never held grudges over fights or losses—maybe from habit, maybe because they’d met back when they first arrived in Gilane and had been friends ever since. They were special.
He stayed silent for a while, his expression finally settling. "I’m thirteen now. Not a ten-year-old pup anymore."
"...That’s shocking news," Rita said with mock gravity.
He rolled his eyes. "I know what you’re worried about. Even if I’ve never been mad at the three of you, you can’t be sure that if you really killed me in a match to win, I wouldn’t get angry enough to stop being your friend.
"You don’t want to team with me because you don’t want to lose me. I get it.
"I’ve never been able to cut my emotions out of the equation. But maybe it’s some cosmic joke—my life always throws more messy relationships at me than you guys ever deal with."
He paused, looking toward the sunset over the long river. "Lately I’ve been thinking about what Lightchaser said. Thinking about our choice back then. Every time, I regret it.
"I’ve long forgotten the pain, the hatred, and the anger I felt toward Lightchaser that day. Time takes away all the bad feelings. But the choice I made then still changed my path.
"No. Trust me, Rita. Winning championships will be forgotten someday. Even GodDraw77 will one day be replaced. But staying friends with you—that’s worth more."
"Alright, enough. That’s way too sappy. I can’t take it." She clamped her hands over her ears.
Rita rummaged through her bag and finally pulled out a bottle of [Potion Blind Box].
It was a formula she’d earned as a reward in alchemy class.
Ten drops per bottle, each with a random magical effect that took hold after just one drop—nobody knew what would happen until you drank it. After the first drop, you could add a single drop of any potion to the rest, and it would keep its mysterious properties forever.
Over time, as long as the added potion was rare enough, its tier would rise too.
The only rule—once you added something new, you couldn’t use it for three natural days.
It was famous for being both whimsical and wondrous. Brewing it was notoriously complicated, requiring both delicate technique and talent. It was priceless. Rita had spent her entire second year making it before she succeeded.
"Good enough to mark our friendship? Follow the timing and the rules, and it’ll never run out."
The potion addict’s eyes lit up. "Life-and-death friends!"
Before she could change her mind, he bolted with the potion in his arms. "Deal’s done! Team match—count me in! And don’t you dare replace me!"