This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist-Chapter 1230 Divine Game: Divine Instruction 44

How could Mistblade lose?

How could Mistblade possibly lose?

Those words kept echoing in Rita’s mind.

Under Maple Syrup’s unrelenting gaze, Rita suppressed the clamor in her thoughts. Her lips were tight, her voice caught—she could neither speak nor offer any advice.

Yet one thought burned crystal clear in her mind: she could not, under any circumstances, stop Maple Syrup’s revenge. Absolutely not.

This was a conclusion drawn from both reason and instinct. She couldn’t intervene in someone else’s vengeance as an outsider. Doing so would only provoke Maple Syrup further.

Wither saved the undead, and BS Rita had no ties to the Moon Foxes—yet here she was, even considering saving them? Who, then, would honor the regrets of the Forest Owls?

And above all, this was Mistblade. Rita refused to believe Mistblade had lost so easily. She refused to believe Mistblade hadn’t prepared.

If Mistblade were to lose to Maple Syrup, there was only one possible reason: she wanted to. She must have chosen to lose. But why?

Reason finally claimed full control.

"I will not," BS Rita said, her voice flat, cold, almost devoid of emotion. Amid the shocked gaze of the spectators, she continued, "This is the moment of the Owls and the Moon Foxes.

"But I am willing to bear the cost for you and the Owls to join BS."

The Vine that had wound around BS Rita’s body began to wither and fall apart. Dawn Cicada lowered her eyes, watching the petals land silently on her boots. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"Ha," Maple Syrup let out a low laugh, unsure if it was mockery or disappointment. The most brilliant pointer on the clock arena struck nine. She no longer looked at BS Rita, but at Mistblade.

Seconds passed. The faint green magic circle covering the arena dimmed. In the silence, all eyes heard Forest Sea Maple Syrup’s answer.

Her voice was hoarse: "I refuse...

"I refuse to execute the Moon Foxes, and I refuse to join BS."

No one could read her mind—not even the seasons within her.

Almost the moment she finished speaking, the fiery magic circle of spring dissolved instantly.

The "Four Seasons—Spring" HP-lock effect disappeared. Maple Syrup lowered her head; she had survived the extra minute only through that skill.

Now, only two figures remained on one knee in the arena.

Only now did Rita remember to breathe. Before anyone could discuss the duel, two beams of light fell on Mistblade and Maple Syrup. One duel alone could not determine final rankings; they would continue facing other opponents.

Both were restored to full health. Wounds healed. Missing limbs regenerated.

Mistblade slowly opened her eyes. Behind her, the outline of a massive snowflake hovered, gradually glowing along its contours.

At the same time, Maple Syrup opened her eyes. Behind her, a forest ruin materialized, illuminated areas slowly expanding.

Both were meditating on their divine talent words: Mistblade on "Prisoner," Maple Syrup on "Four Seasons."

"You did it on purpose, didn’t you? You wanted us to perish together, using the uncertainty of whether I’d execute the Moon Foxes to grasp your divine talent word."

The top-ranked Mistblade could lose to herself—and the answer was simple: she wanted to.

Rita didn’t know Mistblade’s exact divine talent word, but she understood what Mistblade cared about most. Mistblade wanted to seize this moment to fully experience the fear and despair of the Moon Foxes being so easily wiped out.

Maple Syrup’s expression was mocking, her voice confident: "You didn’t expect my divine talent could lock HP. You couldn’t use your execution rights to counter me. You almost gambled away 20% of the Moon Foxes."

The benefit of mutual destruction was the execution leverage it granted—if you dared strike my kin, I could immediately strike yours. For the Owls, Maple Syrup would not touch the Moon Foxes.

"I wasn’t betting with the Moon Foxes," Mistblade said, lifting her gaze. There was no weight of seriousness on her face. Slowly, she rose, a smile of complete control on her features. She spoke calmly: "No battle in the world is ever a guaranteed victory. You are a worthy opponent. I accounted for your possible victory.

"I was betting on myself. I chose Lania Kaia Wither’s divine skill, ’Scene Recreation.’ Whether it ends in a tie or you win, if you execute the Moon Foxes, I will recreate Sinblood to bear the punishment in their place."

"Despicable, cunning, cruel," Maple Syrup muttered in succession.

"Mutual," Mistblade replied, "You predicted this, so you spared the Moon Foxes to refine your ’Four Seasons,’ didn’t you?"

Maple Syrup sidestepped the remark: "I asked BS Rita if she would pay the price for me to spare the Moon Foxes. She refused."

"It’s fine. She’s BS Adjudicator, not Snowfield Adjudicator."

"Is that so? You look like you’re pretending to be relaxed."

"So are you. You didn’t bluff anything out of her, didn’t you feel disappointed?"

The Moon Foxes and Owls, exhausted from the fight, began bickering. Uncharted Star Sea did not remove them from the arena. Behind them, the glowing outlines continued to grow slowly.

"Prisoner" did not break free. Instead, it embraced the pain of the Moon Foxes’ tragic fate. The cruel Owls experienced their "Four Seasons."

Was it because she sensed the execution would fail? Or did she hesitate for a moment? Or both? The answer lay beyond the reach of her unique divine talent word.

A clever player, once unlocking their divine talent word, could find ways to deepen their understanding without guidance. Soulfire and emotions were intertwined. The path to mastery required channeling emotion through oneself to strengthen the divine talent.

In the face of a powerful divine talent, equipment, attributes, honor points, and even god-given skills could yield. Seizing the emotional opportunity was what mattered most.

Uncharted Star Sea intended for others to witness this.

Flower Crown Murder coalesced into a Vine again. Rita closed her eyes.

Dawn Cicada leaned closer, whispering: "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?" Rita meditated, pondering her own divine talent.

"Regret not saving the Moon Foxes? Then they would owe you a massive favor."

"She is Mistblade."

Rita spoke four words, but Dawn Cicada, a fellow Vineborne leader, understood immediately.

That was Mistblade, the top-ranked Moon Emperor, the one most responsible for the Moon Foxes’ future. For another race to unilaterally bargain on their behalf was an insult.

"Boring," Dawn Cicada muttered, standing straight.

Over half an hour passed. The glowing marks between the Moon Foxes and Owls faded, and Divine Game finally returned them to the spectator stands.

Footsteps stopped in front of Rita. Still with eyes closed, she sensed a presence lower itself and then stand upright.

Something hovered before her. Rita opened her eyes to see a hand holding a single petal from Flower Crown Murder.

Years of wielding blades had left her hand calloused, slightly rough, with long, strong fingers perfect for gripping a weapon.

The fingers twirled the petal half a rotation. Mistblade’s eyes shifted from the petal to BS Rita’s face.

"You didn’t believe I would win?"

Rita looked at her helplessly. "Do you want to remember who actually won just now?"

A soft chuckle sounded behind Mistblade—Maple Syrup.

Seemingly realizing she had said something foolish, the Moon Emperor smiled faintly. She closed her palm over the petal, holding it firmly, and met BS Rita’s gaze with warmth:

"Thank you for your respect."

Respect for my identity. Respect for my skill. Respect for me and the Moon Foxes.