Every skill within [Midnight Exile] was worthy of its SSS-tier designation, and the first three were passive skills—no cooldown, no cost.
It was so powerful that Rita doubted even an SSS-tier version of her [One-Person Party] could match its strength. It was otherworldly.
[Midnight Exile] was the strongest combat talent she had ever encountered.
The damage progression was staggering: the first attack dealt x damage. If it failed to kill, the second attack would deal 5x, and if that also failed, the third would deal 25x. The damage multiplier capped at 125x on the fourth attack.
The [Absurd Story] skill was equally astonishing.
Not only would anyone attacking her suffer the sa damage reflected back at them, but they might also accidentally heal her—a slim chance, but the possibility alone was absurdly advantageous.
More critical was the unbearable pain inflicted on attackers. The pain scaled with the attacker's tolerance, ensuring even those with high thresholds couldn't endure it easily.
Such pain, trivial on its own, could disrupt an opponent's rhythm during combat, potentially shifting the tide of a battle.
[Bedti Tale], a shield in its own right, ensured she couldn't be killed in a single blow. Although she'd die after four consecutive hits, this safeguard offered critical ti for counterasures.
Finally, the most unique skill: [Ancient Curse].
Nivalis listened intently, cheering at every revelation. Yet, after her initial excitent, her mood turned somber.
"But you should've just endured," Nivalis said with concern. "Now he knows it was you. The next ti you enter, he'll hunt you down… I should've trusted you then. I should've believed in you."
Her words nearly brought Rita to tears again. She thought, How could I bla her for not trusting in that mont? Nivalis had borne all the pain, paid the ultimate price. Besides, Rita truly had no solutions at that mont.
She almost wanted to joke: Next ti you see soone nad Yu, just run the other way. They're bad luck.
Feigning a lighthearted tone, Rita said, "It wouldn't have mattered. Even if we didn't do anything, he would've killed us anyway."
Nivalis shook her head, her gaze filled with worry. She looked at Rita like a reckless child, her expression almost comical. "No, it's different. This ti it was chance. But now, you've stolen his talent—it's a blood feud."
Rita understood that all too well. From the mont she saw Frenzied Shark's talent, she had been planning to steal it, waiting for the safest and most opportune mont. She had even considered passing [I Could Just Steal It] to another alien afterward, so no one would ever suspect her.
But that plan crumbled the mont Frenzied Shark humiliated her and bled Nivalis.
Enduring humiliation? No. She knew that if she tolerated it then, she would never stand tall again.
Instead of being broken, her fighting spirit burned brighter than ever.
Rita held Nivalis closer, whispering, "Even if I hadn't stolen it, we'd already crossed the line with him."
Her feud with Frenzied Shark was now unrelenting.
Would stealing four divine skills soothe her anger and hatred?
No. It wasn't enough—not nearly enough.
She vowed to skin Frenzied Shark alive, to feed his [Hate Thorns] to Nivalis as nourishnt. The humiliation of today would be repaid a hundred, a thousand tis over.
Nivalis's voice grew faint. "I always knew I was important to you…"
This ti, Rita didn't deny it. Smiling, she admitted, "Yes. That's why I couldn't bear it, even for a second."
But when she looked down to see Nivalis's expression, the dragon had already fallen asleep.
Rita's smile vanished, replaced by a chilling determination. She spoke softly yet venomously:
"I curse Winter Sea Frenzied Shark! Every seven days, his pet will drain his blood and kill him. The curse can only be broken if Frenzied Shark feeds his flesh to a hundred different alien beasts until they are fully satisfied." Your next read awaits at My Virtual Library Empire
As she spoke, a black magic sigil appeared midair, intricate and elegant. A silver light coursed through its design, illuminating its edges before the sigil dissolved. The curse was set.
She cast a second curse on [Hate Thorns] before speeding toward Dragon Island. She flew nonstop, eating rations midair to stave off hunger, drinking potions to stay energized, and replaying the events in her mind.
Using multiple speed-enhancing skills, she finally reached Dragon Island by the afternoon of the 17th.
At the entrance to Holy Cup's lair, she called out in Dragon Tongue: "Elder, how can I save Nivalis?"
She didn't hide anything, detailing everything Nivalis had endured. Even if it risked angering Holy Cup North Year, her priority was to save Nivalis.
Holy Cup didn't seem overly worried. She even took a mont to examine Rita's orange-red wings, but North Year imdiately flew over, cradling Nivalis. Healing spells rained down on the small dragon, yet none were effective.
Holy Cup sighed. "Dragon scales aren't the issue. Nivalis wasn't lying when she said we shed them every hundred years. She's simply early because of her growth from the High Tower. It's her lost blood that's the problem—she's lost a third of her essence. Any more, and her form would have changed irreversibly."
Rita flew to North Year's height, looking at Nivalis. "What can I do?"
Holy Cup answered, "Recover her lost blood. She'll know how. Alternatively, you can gather pure energy crystals, though the quantity required would be imnse."
Lost essence.
Rita thought of the curse she had placed on [Hate Thorns]—it might help. But she wasn't satisfied with that alone. She wanted more answers.
"Is there any other way?" she pressed.
Holy Cup's icy gaze softened. Her voice was gentle. "In the World Battleground, as long as you keep winning, Nivalis can evolve through rewards.
"But in her current state, even killing her to reset won't help. She hasn't lost attributes or skills. Without restoration, her attack power will weaken, and her next level-up will yield only 5–7 free attribute points."
North Year stopped his healing efforts and handed the shrunken Nivalis back to Rita. "She's stabilized. Skills can be used again, but her essence remains unrecovered."
Rita cradled Nivalis, looking solemnly at the two dragons. "It's my fault. I'll make it right. I'll restore Nivalis to her full strength."
Holy Cup's tail brushed against the sleeping Nivalis. "No need to apologize. This was her choice."
Even North Year, who had been tense until now, said, "Indeed. This is between you and Nivalis. She must bear responsibility for her decisions."
Rita made no promises to North Year or Holy Cup. Just as Nivalis bore the weight of her choices, Rita knew she must bear hers as well.
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