After returning to school this ti, Rita began to keep an eye out for potential teammates who could compete with her in the fourth-year team round of the Divine Ga.
But she didn’t plan to build a team in her second or even third year. She wanted to earn her place in the third-year Divine Ga first—only then would she have the right to talk about it.
Because what she needed was never just four teammates who could help her win a team match.
She wanted four others who also aid to trigger GodDraw77.
And teammates like that couldn’t be found. They had to be drawn in—drawn to her by her own growth.
She pushed herself even harder. Rumors spread even to the fourth- and fifth-year students: that the top second-year was absolutely cracked. No matter the subject, she was always in the SSS-tier class.
As her na rose, her skill Sumr Snowman beca a hot commodity at Moonlight Marsh.
It let the user rewind ti five tis. One snowman cost two items that guaranteed a stat point increase. But if soone was willing to throw in a third item, she offered a deal: when the snowman expired (within a year), they could co back and get a new one—free of charge.
That ant for three stat-point items, you could get two snown with five recharges each.
Almost everyone who ca to her chose the extra purchase.
Maybe it was just psychological, but once they knew they had a backup snowman waiting with Rita, they weren’t so stingy using the one they had.
She also exchanged rare potions for items that had so chance of increasing stats. She didn’t demand a 100% chance—just at least 30% odds. The required number of items varied based on the rarity of the potion.
Everyone could see it: this lower-year prodigy was turning everything she had into raw resources.
But not everyone understood one thing—she didn’t seem to care much about skills.
She focused only on base stats, combat thods, and execution.
Only those closest to her, like Mistblade, knew the truth. Rita wasn’t careless—she was just picky. She only wanted SS-tier and above skills.
Rita explained it openly to her friends, saying it was sothing Lightchaser had taught her: only a handful of S-tier skills—and those SS-tier or higher—could close the gap between combat experience and stats.
For young trainees like them, with limited real battle experience, stacking skills only created confusion.
It was the truth. Lightchaser hadn’t taught her many offensive skills either.
After she trained Throat Slice, Bone Pick, and Backstab to S-tier, Lightchaser introduced three new ones: Throat Slice: Lightchaser, Bone Pick: Lightchaser, and Backstab: Lightchaser.
According to Lightchaser, these were ant to reach SSS-tier.
"You don’t need a ton of skills," she had said. "Your enemies won’t live that long."
Rita believed her. She’d seen Lightchaser fight during lessons. It was pure art.
...
When her third year started, the already infamous underclassman went even further—launching a new service.
Three stat points, and she’d carry you into the SSS-tier class.
That stirred up a hornet’s nest. Students stuck in the SS-tier and unable to afford the price protested for days.
That afternoon, fresh out of music class, Rita had just sat down at the long stone table when Mistblade ca over and inford her,
"GodDraw77 wants to see you after dinner at the lakeside cabin."
Mistblade was now a third-year class rep. Patient, responsible, and strong—already top ten in the grade. She’d been appointed class leader back in second year.
Now 13 years old, she had two tails, stood at a solid 168cm, and wore her fluffy hair in a high ponytail that looked like a third tail.
Rita handed her a cup of "don’t-grow-tall" juice and replied,
"Got it. I’ll go after dinner."
Despite chugging two bottles of MooMoo milk every day and taking multiple nutritional potions, Rita was still only 162cm. She was starting to accept that she’d never outgrow Mistblade or Maple Syrup, but she was confident she’d hit 175 soday—no problem.
Her hairstyle was courtesy of the art teacher, paynt being a glass of wine made from Wrong Season.
It wasn’t an easy task. Thanks to constant use of Fla Brew, she stored most of her alcohol inside her wing bones—least likely to affect combat. But she drank a lot, so when those filled up, she started storing the excess in her hair.
Her long black hair reeked of booze and refused to lie flat. No matter how neat she combed it in the morning, five minutes after stepping out, it’d puff up like a porcupine.
After a long study, the teacher gave up and just trimd her bangs.
"Show your forehead—it suits you."
Hearing that line nearly made Rita think Scarlett had possessed the woman.
After dinner, she skipped the usual training room and didn’t go pester Teacher Rehana about snowman design. Instead, she headed straight to the lakeside cabin.
Her Hide and Seek skill was now SS-tier. She often used it during als to ss with friends—even if she sat right between Maple Syrup and Mistblade, they’d have no idea she was there.
All they’d do was wonder why the stone bench felt so high today.
She thought she understood the skill inside out, but every ti she ca to et GodDraw77 for one reason or another, her understanding was pushed to a new level.
It was as if this skill confused others on a cognitive level.
Like now—she circled the lake over and over, examined every stone, every animal. She even flipped a sunbathing turtle multiple tis.
Still, no sign of GodDraw77.
Until a rock suddenly called her na.
Rita froze.
Of course—she was right here again. Fishing.
The two of them sat quietly at the edge of the lake.
GodDraw77 didn’t imdiately bring up the whole "charging stat points to carry classmates" thing. Instead, she asked,
"What’s the rush?"
She’d looked like she was running from wild dogs before. But ever since the second half of her second year, it had all co from within. This was just Rita pushing herself.
Sotis she’d use her disguise skill to play soone else in class events, but those eyes of hers—those glowing, determined eyes—always gave her away.
Everyone said she was easy to spot. Her eyes burned as bright as her wings.
Rita looked at her and answered simply,
"After the Fla Festival, I’m signing up for next January’s Divine Ga."
GodDraw77 didn’t seem surprised. Her voice was flat, like stating a fact.
"You want to beco GodDraw77 before you graduate."
Rita didn’t respond. That dream wasn’t just hers. It was tied to Lightchaser.
The Lightchaser Era was sacred—precious and heavy.
She wasn’t ready to speak of it so casually.
And she certainly didn’t want to tell GodDraw77.
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