After the joint training, everyone’s progress finally seed to settle into a steady rhythm.
There was no new theory to learn for now, but the number of runes they had to combine increased each day, about ten more than the day before. On top of that, Rita was now forced to sit through detailed personal histories from her four classmates.
She could not stop them. It was obvious they did not only want her conclusions. They wanted to hear one another’s as well.
When it ca to power, boundaries blurred. As long as nothing truly confidential was involved, they shared freely. Big things, small things, everything was laid out in the open. Nivalis and B80 had practically moved to the classroom doorway, afraid of missing any gossip. Foolishness, on the other hand, arrived and left precisely on ti each day, though she had been reading the sa book for several days straight.
That afternoon, after Kessa finished recounting how she left "Midsumr," the room fell quiet for a long mont.
Then Kessa asked, "Why are you always silent? Don’t you want to find the direction of your divine talent?"
She did not na anyone, but everyone knew who she ant.
Three days had passed since the joint training. In those three days, only BS Rita had never spoken about her past.
Rita dispersed the complicated rune that had just exploded in her palm. "Of course I want to," she said calmly. "I just don’t like being summarized by other people."
No one pressed her.
After class, Rita declined Nivalis and B80’s offer to bring her food. She wandered alone through the Toy Palace.
Over the past few days she had tried countless words. Kind ones. Cruel ones. Sharp, gentle, poetic, blunt. None triggered anything unusual. She even began to wonder whether her life had simply been... ordinary.
At the end of the corridor, the palace doors stood open, framing the night sky. The river of reversing Starsea drifted past in luminous arcs.
Rita stopped walking.
At that exact mont, the five golden spheres that constantly circled her launched another attack.
She drew the dagger at her waist and countered, but one sphere struck her anyway. The hit triggered a one-second stun, and she was knocked backward into a nearby workshop.
Even after the debuff faded and she twisted midair to lessen the impact, her boots still clipped a three-legged square table.
Crash.
The table toppled, and a scatter of mahjong tiles clattered across the floor. The noise echoed through the palace.
Rita crouched with a sigh and began cleaning up. Foolishness’s palace was full of strange objects. A three-legged table barely counted as unusual. She just did not understand why it toppled so easily.
She set the table upright first.
But she did not imdiately withdraw her hand.
Not only because the table refused to stand steady, but because she had just seen its item description.
Dustfire’s Old Dining Table.
Dustfire. The creator of "Delicious Funeral."
Dustfire’s Old Dining Table, toy. "May my enemies be reborn in Starsea in their next life. May I be as well." Place a World Graveyard tile on this table to alter the ga mode at will. Each round will bring sothing extraordinary. At the end of the ga, you will see an SS Regret.
Still holding the table steady with one hand, Rita picked up a tile at random.
It really was a World Graveyard tile.
She placed it on the table. Its description changed.
World Graveyard, BS, Third Era.
"What’s wrong?"
Maple Syrup’s voice ca from outside the workshop.
Rita snapped back to herself. "Don’t tell you’re here to ask what word I’d use for you again."
She continued picking up tiles, placing them deliberately to weigh the table down and stabilize it. Maple Syrup stepped in to help, replying casually, "Don’t flatter yourself. I ca out for food."
"You should try placing the tiles on the table," Rita said. "There’s a surprise."
Each ti she picked up a tile, she paused to see which world it represented.
Maple Syrup did the sa.
Within seconds, Nivalis and B80 wandered over to join them.
Once all the tiles were collected, the four exchanged a look.
They started a ga.
When the first tile was discarded, Rita and Maple Syrup imdiately understood what the description ant by sothing extraordinary.
The tile, Hippie Three Bamboo, flew forward.
Above the table, a fragnt of sheet music flickered into existence. The notes were shaped not like ovals, but like crab claws.
It vanished in an instant.
They kept playing.
Snowfield, Fourth Era. A clan rule shimred briefly in the air.
Black Spring, First Era. A honey wine recipe flashed across the tabletop.
BS, Third Era. A cluster of strange symbols appeared.
Nivalis and Maple Syrup stared in fascination. B80 tilted its head, then gave a small sound of realization.
"What is that?" Maple Syrup asked. "BS runes?"
Rita tore her eyes from what looked suspiciously like an advanced mathematics problem and nodded solemnly. "Yes. High-level runes."
The commotion eventually drew the remaining three from the classroom.
Mid-round, Kessa and the others joined them.
Dawn Cicada watched for a mont, then grabbed B80 by the antenna and lifted it aside before taking the seat herself.
"Hey, that’s too domineering," Rita protested.
"Thank you," Dawn Cicada replied graciously.
Rita stood, placed B80—whose battery had dropped below ten percent—onto a nearby cabinet with a charging dock. "You really do need to recharge."
When she returned, no one dared take her seat.
Unlike a normal mahjong ga, only Nivalis truly cared about winning. The others were focused on the effects triggered by discarded tiles. They threw out whatever interested them, ignoring strategy.
It was not a bad thing if Nivalis won quickly. That way they could see the so-called SS Regret sooner.
Before long, Nivalis pushed her tiles forward.
"I win!"
Everyone’s gaze shot upward.
The final tile that completed her hand rose into the air and expanded into a nearly one-ter-wide projection.
The backdrop resembled Starsea, yet within it, the faint outline of Quiet Mountain could be seen.
Dominating the scene was a massive clock face. Its hands moved slowly.
Standing atop the dial were two identical figures.
Deceitful Bloom.
Two Deceitful Blooms.
The one on the left knelt on one knee, holding a floral bow. The one on the right stood with a scepter.
Both had unleashed their Flowers of Deceit. The blossoms grew wildly across the battlefield, each side claiming half the clock face in towering, tangled trees.
"You’re still insisting?" the right one asked. "You are the last Vineborne in Starsea. Who are you fighting for?"
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