This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist-Chapter 1236 Divine Game: Divine Instruction 50

399:452.

Twenty minutes into the fight, Rita’s health dropped below 400.

She had already given up attacking Dark Mistblade. Now she was focused entirely on evasion.

The Warden was even harder to deal with than Mountain Isles Rita had been. Every bit of damage Rita dealt was reflected back onto herself. Worse, it was not ordinary reflection. Each strike also triggered her own Absurd Story.

It was like she was beating herself up.

Only now did Rita fully understand why Dark Mistblade had taken no damage from Caged Bird.

Caged Bird never harmed its own caster.

She did not know how long this skill would last. But she refused to sit still and gamble on the unknown.

While dodging Dark Mistblade’s relentless assaults and studying the strange mechanics of the ability, Rita slowly moved closer to Mistblade’s real body.

If the separated Warden was practically invincible, then the obvious answer was to target the original body and find a weakness there.

Crimson chains extended upward from Mistblade’s wrists and torso, reaching into the starry sea above the arena as if emerging from the void itself. From there they stretched downward and nailed her firmly to the floor of the clock arena.

It was like a prisoner bound in place.

Mistblade watched Rita approach with a soft smile.

All the darkness seemed to have been stripped away with the creation of Dark Mistblade. The Mistblade bound in chains looked calm and pure, almost peaceful.

For a moment, Rita felt as if she were seeing the Mistblade from their days at Moonlight Marsh.

It was the first time she had truly seen the difference between the younger Mistblade and the one standing here now.

It was not a difference in appearance. Not her face, not her build, not even the number of tails.

If anything, the Mistblade of Moonlight Marsh had already carried the same quiet elegance and composure.

Even after becoming the Moon Emperor, she had simply gained a faint aura of someone above others. The foundation had always been there.

But now, with the Warden stripped away, the contrast became painfully clear.

Only seconds separated this Mistblade from the other one.

It was like a curtain of mist had suddenly been blown away.

The chained Mistblade radiated peace and clarity.

The real Mistblade, in comparison, carried a layer of coldness that was impossible to see through.

Rita had known Mistblade for a long time now.

From the library in Moonlake City, to Binast.

From BS, to the war cruise ship drifting along the River of Time.

And just moments ago, Maple Syrup’s fury and accusations.

Only now did Rita finally understand her.

Did her pride shatter on the same day Snowfield fell?

No.

Perhaps the opposite.

Perhaps her pride took root the moment Snowfield shattered. Perhaps it sprouted instantly and spread into an endless frozen plain.

A new Snowfield.

Someone whose pride is truly broken does not climb to the top of the ladder rankings after losing her homeland.

Someone whose pride is broken does not try to rebuild that homeland.

Someone whose pride is broken does not willingly drop from first place to Tier Fifteen just to temper her blade.

And someone like that certainly would not shrug off losing to Rita back then or to Maple Syrup now.

Mistblade’s pride had not shattered.

It had become unbreakable.

Rita asked herself a question.

Could she accept losing to Maple Syrup?

No.

She liked being first. She hated losing.

But Mistblade was different.

She did not care about rankings or victories.

She looked down on the world with a kind of arrogance she might not even realize herself.

That was why she could calmly say, "My pride shattered the same day Snowfield did."

That was why she could fight Maple Syrup to a draw while pretending to give it everything she had.

As if she were humoring a temperamental junior or a weaker opponent.

This was not kindness.

It was terrible.

Because it was the highest kind of condescension.

And more importantly, if she believed herself to be a Prisoner of Snowfield, then why did Prisoner produce a Warden?

Rita’s white flower blade slashed across Mistblade’s body.

It caused no damage.

Remembering how she once thought the word Prisoner diminished Mistblade, and remembering Mistblade’s question, "What did the Moon Foxes do wrong?", Rita suddenly asked,

"Does Prisoner really mean a prisoner trapped in your homeland?"

She began to suspect Mistblade’s earlier explanation had been nothing more than a convenient answer, given because she had not wanted to explain her real belief to Rita and Dawn Cicada.

The chained Mistblade laughed softly.

Then she asked gently, "What do you think it means?"

Rita remembered a moment from long ago.

A coin flipping in the air.

A vision and a voice.

In that vision, the Moon Fox stood beside the cruise ship railing. Behind her flowed the River of Time. Above her stretched the Brilliance Star Sea.

She had said:

"Divine Game players. Above the abyss. Every single one of us is guilty. No one escapes."

So the meaning of Prisoner must be...

"All those who have invaded another’s homeland are criminals who belong in a prison awaiting judgment."

Rita spoke quietly.

"You included."

"You fought Maple Syrup to a draw not because you wanted those thirty seconds while she decided whether to execute the Moon Foxes."

"What you wanted was the thirty seconds that carried both guilt and punishment."

Mistblade was the Prisoner.

And the Warden.

She judged the beings of Uncharted Star Sea from the position of a judge.

Yet she herself stood inside the prison.

That was why she treated herself differently.

In Mistblade’s eyes, the earlier BS Rita had been a victim waiting to be invaded by the Moon Foxes.

The later BS Rita was the only innocent person in the entire Uncharted Star Sea.

The smile on Mistblade’s face grew brighter.

Her eyes lit up as she stared at Rita with pure astonishment.

Like a traveler who had wandered alone through a desert for centuries and suddenly found someone to talk to.

She laughed softly.

Then the laughter grew freer and louder, until she almost forgot her usual composure.

Rita would have liked to laugh with her.

Unfortunately, while they talked, Dark Mistblade never stopped attacking.

And she still had no idea how to break this ability.

She had even tried stabbing herself once with her sword, just to see if the damage might somehow transfer back to Dark Mistblade.

Of course it did not work.

She simply lost one more health point.

Rita nearly laughed at her own stupidity.

Ever since the Warden appeared, Mistblade had not lost a single point of health.

And the skill showed no sign of a time limit.

Rita was doing everything she could to evade. The combat training she had endured against Mountain Isles Rita paid off. Even against an unbeatable opponent, she managed to slow her health loss as much as possible.

Thirty minutes.

Forty minutes.

The duel dragged on longer than any match since the tournament began.

Finally Mistblade asked from within the chains,

"Still haven’t found your divine talent word?"