On this battlefield, Rita once again unleashed That Was Close, Almost a Wipe. When the sprites began to rise, cheers swept across the front.
She nodded at Avery. "I need to check the B-zone battlefield."
Her hand touched the platinum helm-wheel that floated eagerly to her side. Only then did she glance at Sanchez, who had been staring at her with those bright, unblinking eyes.
The mont Rita arrived, B8017913 had poured out everything it thought was worth telling—including everything Sanchez had done during these four months.
Which ant that in B8017913’s eyes, Sanchez’s actions mattered. Worth recording.
The enemies she had slain, the hatred she stirred, the way her presence had both fired up and steadied others... all of it.
She had been revived multiple tis. The scars of missing flesh clung to her. Yet she did not care. In her own defiance, they beca her pride.
See? Even like this, you still cannot defeat . Then what does that make you but trash?
Her gear was soaked in blood—her own, and her enemies’.
Yet her gaze was alive, brimming with exhilaration and pride. For a mont, Rita saw not the old Sanchez of another life, eyes drowned in violence and bitterness, but soone new. As if those hatreds truly belonged to a past long gone.
Rita did not have a limb-restoring skill. But her bag still carried countless potions. She pulled out one that could regrow limbs and tossed it into Sanchez’s arms. At the other woman’s wide-eyed confusion, Rita said, "Then next ti, hold out longer."
The curse bound into their contract dissolved the instant Rita willed Sanchez to recover.
Rita did not watch the mont her limbs returned. She turned instead and prepared to leave for the final battlefield.
And as she vanished, she heard Sanchez shout after her, "Am I really that charming? Did I just conquer her?"
Rita: ...She regretted it.
Maybe she should just teleport back right now and snatch the potion back.
When she landed on the B-zone front, White-Bone Black Jade let out a resonant dragon’s cry—yet it hadn’t co from Rita’s command.
For several seconds, she studied the undead dragon. Sothing had changed. Not for the worse. It felt... livelier. She still had control, but it wasn’t the sa.
But now wasn’t the ti to ponder it.
The trouble with Sin of Arrogance had returned. Against Shanrane, it had let her fight evenly. Now it dragged her down to parity even with common alien fodder.
She still had buffs and ancient relics enough to widen the gap, but not the overwhelming slaughter she’d just dealt out.
She considered burning Phoenix Seat again to massacre them.
But when the alien ranks saw her arrive, they halted on their own. The whole line withdrew.
All three warzones had entered a ceasefire.
Only fifty minutes remained before the next leader arrived.
She turned to Shadow.Q. "I need a clone skill—one that keeps as much of my real stats as possible—to hold all three fronts."
"Understood. Give half an hour."
"And I’ll need armor. Leather type. Forget jewelry."
She rarely carried gear into the Divine Ga. Whenever she had the quota, she spent it on weapons. Now she needed to squeeze her stats as high as possible.
"Got it."
Every request of hers now took priority. Half an hour wasn’t to find the gear—it was to pick only the very best.
While Shadow.Q worked, Rita continued roaming the three warzones, reviving spirits with That Was Close, Almost a Wipe.
Nivalis had already shed her dagger form and returned to her true body. She refused to heal the scars carved into her dragon scales by using Specialist Channel. They were her dals. She used only the simplest of heals to restore her HP, then carried Rita aloft above each front.
Wherever they passed, silence fell. Blue Star players lifted their faces, waiting reverently for the spirits to return.
And when each sprite was reborn, joy burst forth. Players raised their tiny friends high into the air, shouting, laughing, even chanting the Lion King’s circle-of-life lody.
"Aaah–ka-spanda–chihuahua–"
The tune was strangely familiar.
Nivalis looked up at Rita standing between her horns. "You used to sing songs like that to too. You’d hold up high."
Rita’s expression turned solemn. "No. Absolutely not. I would never do sothing like that."
Nivalis: ???
It was literally part of your stupid rookie phase. And now you deny it?!
But no matter how Nivalis pressed her, Rita kept her gaze fixed elsewhere, wearing the face of soone far too busy.
Nivalis wailed, "Cold shoulder! You’ve been back five minutes and it’s already cold shoulder!"
By the ti Shadow.Q returned with the gear, Rita had revived spirits across all three fronts.
The sprites stood at the sa level they had before death. Already, Eclipse Vanguard and the guilds had uncovered the hidden cost: if a spirit died again, its next revival would strip away a divine talent skill or its most-used ability.
The price was steep. But it was enough.
A mass resurrection. And once revived, they could not truly die. What more could they ask for?
When Shadow.Q erged from the portal, Rita was hovering above, gazing down at the swarms of sprites fluttering across the battlefield.
Their numbers were nearly three tis that of the surviving players.
They were still human—but now with a suffix. Spirits.
[Human·Spirit]
The blue sprites flew like coursing water over the battlefield, like veins across a body. Blue Star had never looked so blue.
Players clutched each other, crying and laughing, retelling their deaths, reliving the mont BS-Rita had descended at the brink.
The words she heard most often were, "She ca back!"
Shadow.Q did not stand between Nivalis’s horns. Instead she hovered neatly by the dragon’s head, making sure to hold her position just behind and to the side of Rita.
That earned her a short, quiet laugh.
"You never fail to reinforce my stereotypes about politicians," Rita said.
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