This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist-Chapter 1228 Divine Game: Divine Instruction 42

The gods and demons had gathered once again.

"Could her plan actually work?" one whispered.

"Not sure. The limits? Maybe only Starsea and Quiet Mountain know."

"Or maybe even they don’t. From the old records, wars appeared before the Invasion Sequence was discovered."

"As far as I know, it was the king who realized that world skills could be shared via the Invasion Sequence. If you’re curious, you could check out the Ossuary... maybe you’ll get your answer."

"You don’t want to go. I once went to pay respects at Lynx Duke’s grave and got stopped. The king demanded I find a cat to watch over it. Six cats of his own were off traveling and wouldn’t stay. Where was I supposed to find a cat that would?"

"And did you?"

"...Heh. I camped by the grave all night, meowing at the top of my lungs. He finally let me leave."

Deceitful Bloom summarized: "Starsea and Quiet Mountain are merely recorders, regulators, and enforcers—not the true creators or movers. The true creators of this era are standing right here, in the clock arena."

...

Once every player present had completed a match, only 45 remained.

Many had mutually destroyed each other, yet strangely, those who fell together seemed to act as if coordinated. They either executed each other’s races simultaneously or, like Autumn Deer and JE, consciously declined their rewards. It was as if they shared the same unspoken code for settling grudges.

The atmosphere in the stands was tense. No one knew if this vengeance game should make them feel satisfaction or dread.

Then Divine Game presented a choice.

"Players may opt to forgo their ranking rewards in this round and withdraw from the upcoming Moment of Vengeance. This is the only chance to quit. Choose wisely."

A countdown began: 30... 29...

The clock arena’s pointers ticked steadily, urging every player to decide.

Remaining players exchanged glances, anticipating who might face them next.

By halfway through the countdown, some players started to withdraw—and in significant numbers.

Rita noticed Fury Rider among them. He chose to step back under Fury Prayer’s watchful gaze. Perhaps he could win, but the cost of losing was too high.

Lulumi stepped aside from Crab, Layered Peaks from Ember... clearly, elsewhere in Uncharted Star Sea, similarly intricate stories were unfolding.

In a blink, 45 players dwindled to 32.

Scanning the stands, Rita noted that at least half the spectators were strangers, though many familiar faces remained: all her classmates, and most of Deceitful Bloom’s students—except the eliminated JE.

When the countdown ended, and players unwilling to risk their kin withdrew, the pointers on the clock arena spun swiftly. At the stroke of twelve, The Bell Tolls.

No pause, no rest. Moment of Vengeance resumed, and the next match began immediately.

New rules were announced:

Each player’s maximum HP was raised to 1000, though each attack still only dealt one point of damage. Battles would be longer, the pace slower, allowing trailing players more chances to turn the tide. Outcomes would be even less predictable.

Even more impactful, new victory rewards appeared:

Execution penalties remain.

Victory bonus added: the winner may choose to absorb the loser and their followers into their world, or join the loser’s world with their own followers.

The crowd’s expressions shifted subtly. Everyone understood immediately: this was about cultivation and consolidation—strengthening promising players, then gathering their races together.

The winner could also join the loser’s world, but that was a choice; no one in their right mind would enter a weaker world willingly.

Before anyone could overthink, fragments of light coalesced in the sky: a fox tail and an acorn.

Snowfield Mistblade and Forest Sea Maple Syrup.

Like most duel pairings, they stared at each other, both with unspoken words ready.

Mistblade spoke first.

"If I lose... will you execute the Moon Foxes?"

Though phrased as a question, her tone read like narrating an inevitable story.

By nature rational, she didn’t believe Maple Syrup would ever forgive the measures taken to preserve part of Forest Sea, especially someone so passionate in both love and hate.

Maple Syrup, as expected, answered simply:

"Yes."

Her homeland might fade, but a piece of bloody Forest Sea remained unyielding in her heart.

Even knowing Mistblade had the better odds, she refused to lie. She was hardwired to stand firm.

Mistblade expected this. Three blood-mist blades slowly gathered, and she murmured without preamble:

"In Quiet Mountain, we were friends."

In another world, in another timeline, without grudges, they might have been.

Maple Syrup understood. The tip of her spear ignited into flames. She kept her usual composed expression, but her voice softened slightly.

"It should be so."

No sooner had she spoken than her heavy boots struck the ground. She charged Mistblade—who met her head-on.

The clock arena erupted with clashing weapons and skill explosions. Flames and blood mist collided as neither held back.

Maple Syrup hated losing. Mistblade refused to. The latter didn’t dare leave even a sliver of chance.

The question she asked before combat wasn’t small talk—it was borne of respect for Maple Syrup’s genius in battle.

Some beings are innately extraordinary. From the moment they appear, all eyes turn to them, alarms go off in every mind.

BS Rita was one such being. Forest Sea Maple Syrup was another.

Rita didn’t know exactly how many divine lessons Maple Syrup had taken, but she knew this: after each game, Maple Syrup’s combat skill increased drastically. Even without divine instruction, she absorbed everything she could from each fight.

Maple Syrup’s ability to anchor the acorns in Lania Kaia wasn’t due to cruelty or ruthlessness—it came from pure strength.

Even at the start, Forest Sea Maple Syrup wasn’t a direct match, yet neither Lania Kaia Wither nor anyone else dared to eliminate her. The combined leaders of multiple races couldn’t compare to her importance.

Several joint trainings had shown Mistblade that her divine-taught skills alone couldn’t touch Maple Syrup. So the duel would be a test of weapon skill, not magic.

Both players’ HP dropped sharply. Attribute differences removed, Mistblade pushed her full power, yet Maple Syrup still lagged. But the gap wasn’t despairing.

389:215

The match wasn’t over. She wouldn’t give up so easily.