Rita knew the answer to this question was bound to be heavy. She couldn’t bring herself to ask Lightchaser, and she wouldn’t ask Cinders—so she asked Wail.
Wail didn’t answer during the entire next round of Deathmatch. Just when Rita thought she couldn’t be bothered to discuss the past with a student, Wail finally spoke.
Her tone and expression carried the weight of years, like a true elder. "When Lightchaser opened GodDraw77 in her sixth year, it was already dangerously close. She pushed past her limits over and over, not daring a single mistake.
"She was the sworn enemy of apprentices from all forty-five academies. Even within Moonlight Marsh, there were plenty who wanted her out.
"Everyone admired her. Everyone wanted to beat her."
Her gaze dropped to Rita, battered and bloody, fending off the pack of Chernor Worms.
"I... I wanted to do sothing for her back then. I wanted to help her, to give her a perfect ending to her legend, to make sure she had no regrets.
"A GodDraw77 apprentice winning GodDraw77—there’s no better story than that, is there?"
"In the depths of the Starcrest Glacier, there’s a Chernor Queen. Whoever lands the final blow can gain one of her SSS-tier divine-granted skills. And you know—SSS skills vary. The Queen’s skill was one so strong it could make even an idiot or a washout powerful."
For the first ti, Rita cut her off mid-sentence. Her voice carried raw anger and disbelief. "You didn’t believe she could get GodDraw77 on her own?!"
Wail froze. Her first instinct was to deny it, to explain—because yes, the kid was right.
She hadn’t answered Lightchaser that day, but in the years since, the question had replayed in her head tens of thousands of tis. She had long ago co up with the perfect answer.
Lightchaser had never asked again, so she had never said it aloud.
Now, facing the sa accusation, she shot back almost eagerly, "I’m her teacher. Does teaching her skills an I don’t believe she can win? Then if Lightchaser hands you to to train, does that an she doesn’t believe you can open GodDraw77 in the coming years?"
This ti Rita was the one left speechless. She knew it wasn’t the sa—it didn’t feel the sa—but the words tangled her.
Lightchaser’s training was normal guidance. Wail’s plan, from the start, had been rooted in the belief that Lightchaser couldn’t win without a monstrously strong skill.
And yet... maybe Wail wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t exactly a cri.
Seeing the hesitation and flicker of agreent in the scarred, sweat-streaked face before her, Wail felt a sharp satisfaction—like she’d reached back through ti to answer Lightchaser’s old accusation.
"I brought the Chernor Queen down to her last sliver of health and locked her down. Then I told Lightchaser to co find alone. Use teleport. Tell no one. I had a gift for her, for the start of her seventh year.
"What I didn’t expect was that while I was waiting, the Queen broke free. She counterattacked with a terrifying skill before dying...
"My max HP and mana started graying out at one percent per second—permanent loss, unhealable. It ant that if I died, resurrection wouldn’t work. On top of that, all my base stats dropped by ten points every second.
"That’s when Lightchaser arrived..."
"There was no saving . The curse lasted one hundred seconds, and neither of us had a way to dispel it. I was dood. But all I could think about in that mont was making sure she beca GodDraw77."
She stopped.
The only sounds on the icefield were Rita’s labored breathing and the crunch of combat.
"See? You did think the Queen’s SSS skill was the only way she could win GodDraw77. You didn’t trust Lightchaser, and you didn’t trust your own teaching." Rita’s voice was sharp—sohow, the worms had knocked a path open in her head, and she was pressing the attack.
Wail flinched. Yes. She couldn’t lie to herself.
Lightchaser had gone three straight years opening GodDraw77 and still hadn’t taken the title.
Lightchaser hadn’t given up, hadn’t despaired. But Wail had. After enough disappointnt, she no longer believed Lightchaser could take GodDraw77 in her final year with only what she’d been taught and learned.
Other prodigies had their own great ntors.
She didn’t believe in Lightchaser, and she didn’t believe in herself. She put her hopes in a skill from a forr opponent.
"And then?"
Prompted by the impatient apprentice, Wail’s voice turned dry.
"I ordered her to take out her dagger and kill the Chernor Queen imdiately—otherwise we’d both be in danger.
"You know how decisive she is. She did it. And then fate decided to have a laugh... or maybe it was the Queen’s last revenge. Because the skill Lightchaser got from the kill was called Linked.
"It lets the player link to any state another player has, enjoying the effect themselves while preventing the original owner from keeping it. She could link up to fifty states at once. A true top-tier SSS skill.
"And she imdiately linked to my curse..."
Wail’s pause dragged too long. Rita pressed, "How many seconds did she take on?"
"Forty-eight," Wail answered. "From the mont she understood the situation to the mont it was resolved, only fifty-two seconds had passed. She never wastes a heartbeat.
"She killed the Queen, read the skill, and instantly linked to my curse.
"That ant her HP and mana permanently dropped by forty-eight percent, and her four main stats each lost four hundred eighty points. And this was..."
The dwarf fell silent. Rita filled in the rest between breaths. "...With barely over a hundred days left before the Divine Ga."
"Yes." Wail closed her eyes. "When she shouted in excitent over her new skill, I knew exactly what she was about to do. I stopped her once. I told her she’d regret it. I told her I didn’t want my apprentice to spend her life hating . She said she wouldn’t. She said saving her teacher was worth it.
"Who wants to die? Stopping her once was already more than I thought I could do. Even now, I admire myself for managing it. I couldn’t say it a second ti."
"And?" Rita growled, kicking a worm into the air. Thank the gods Wail was too caught up in the story to fetch more worms or refresh her Deathmatch buff—she was close to clearing them all.
"And what?"
"Did she regret it? Did she hate you?"
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