This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist
Chapter 774: Divine Game: Card Swap 23

Chapter 774: 774: Divine Game: Card Swap 23

And just like that, Mistblade moved in.

Lightchaser’s house wasn’t that big, but squeezing in another cub was still manageable.

She even got Mistblade a job—right across from the Burrowbug Tavern. The hours were longer than Rita’s, though. Rita would finish work and head to Garbage Street for her daily two-hour lesson, and by the time she got home, Mistblade would just be getting off.

Sometimes they went to the library together. Other times, they wandered around Asaein.

Mistblade had already received her tuition and living stipend from Lightchaser in advance—3,000 gold just for the first semester.

After learning that Rita had lessons with Lightchaser every day, she asked,

"Can I talk to Lightchaser? Ask her if I can tag along and learn something too?"

Rita was genuinely surprised.

"Of course you can. You don’t need my permission for that."

Lightchaser wasn’t her property or anything. If she ever dared to act like she could make decisions for Lightchaser, that elf would probably twist her head off and hang it in the living room right next to that goblin skull.

Right, the goblin.

That head was there because the goblin once scammed Lightchaser out of 28 gold coins. According to Lightchaser, that was the largest amount she’d ever been cheated out of, which earned that goblin a spot of honor on her wall.

...

That night, when Lightchaser got home, Mistblade immediately made her request.

She was rejected without hesitation:

"You’re not my apprentice."

Mistblade said nothing after that.

She didn’t want to become Lightchaser’s apprentice anyway.

That line—"My world has no law and no justice"—had left a lasting impression on her.

She knew Lightchaser didn’t think much of her, either. Back in Gilane, when she mentioned her family taking all her saved tuition, Lightchaser had offered to help her rob it back. She’d refused with a "Never mind," and the way Lightchaser looked at her then—like she was watching a tragic idiot—was unforgettable.

Lightchaser had even been ready to walk away and never help her again. Mistblade had to beg for a deal: she’d copy 50 magical items for free, and only then did Lightchaser begrudgingly agree to take her to Asaein.

But Mistblade didn’t want to waste time either. She paid Rita 200 gold to join in on her etiquette classes. From then until enrollment, she studied etiquette with Rita one hour every day.

Neither girl thought there was anything strange or wrong with this.

They would give each other gifts—potion recipes, tuition promises—but when they wanted something, they always offered fair trades.

No one taught them this. It wasn’t some rule they’d discussed. It just came naturally to both of them.

Mistblade’s arrival made time pass even faster.

Rita felt like her special salary-saving jar by the bed barely had a thin layer of coins, and suddenly it was already time to enroll at Moonlight Marsh.

Lightchaser had returned home at 5 AM. She’d nearly forgotten what day it was until Rita let out a dramatic wail to remind her.

And when she opened the door, she was met with two small figures sitting side by side on the sofa, dressed in their brand-new outfits, staring at her with bright, determined eyes.

Little wings flared out. Little tails stood tall.

Lightchaser: "...What time did you two get up?"

Rita: "Just now."

Mistblade nodded in agreement. "Just now."

Lightchaser didn’t bother calling them out. She used to be the same way—hadn’t slept a wink the night before her own entrance exam.

She didn’t step in, either. Just knocked her fingers against the doorframe and said,

"Let’s go. We’ll grab breakfast first, then head straight over—it’ll be time to line up."

The two cubs jumped to their feet.

"Let’s go, let’s go!"

They had to.

Lightchaser’s house was in Asaein’s southwestern area—around the 8 o’clock position if you looked at a map. Moonlight Marsh, on the other hand, was way off in the northeast, practically on the opposite end.

To get there, they had to use Asaein’s public transit.

The city had all sorts of transport: magical beasts, complex mechanical rides, even flying species who took delivery jobs.

The only thing they had in common was the flying license badge they wore on their chests. That wasn’t just a tax receipt—it also showed residents who was an official, licensed ride.

There were price tiers too.

Lightchaser went ahead and hailed the most expensive one.

Under the shocked and thrilled stares of the cubs, she said coldly,

"Adding it to your tabs."

Rita: "..."

Mistblade, who already knew about Lightchaser’s terrifying interest rates: "..."

The ride was a mech—like a full-sized Gundam.

Passengers sat inside a spacious cockpit, and once everyone was buckled in, the thing blasted off at insane speed.

Even so, it still took over an hour to cross the entire city.

The cockpit was roomy—big enough even for someone like Lightchaser to stretch her limbs. There were snacks and drinks on board too, though of course, they came at a price.

Lightchaser was waiting for the cubs to ask about the enrollment process, but instead they were busy discussing it among themselves.

Rita said,

"I bet we’ll have to wear a talking hat that’ll awaken our powers, and then it’ll sort us into different academies."

"Academies?" Mistblade blinked. "You mean magic or combat? Shouldn’t that be based on our talents? And why a hat?"

"Well, what else would you use? Pray to the moon with your tail?"

"...What if someone doesn’t have a tail?"

"Huh. Good point."

"So better to use a talking hat. Everyone’s got a head."

"...That... kind of makes sense."

"Right?!"

"...Yeah, I guess."

Lightchaser: ...

Then Mistblade suddenly remembered something. She turned to Rita.

"Hey, do you remember Maple Syrup? The redhead with the baby bottle? Her parents brought her to Asaein a few months ago to get her powers awakened."

Rita looked at Lightchaser.

The elf replied calmly,

"Impossible. Only academies can officially awaken a divine gift. That’s the core requirement for becoming a certified school: having a tool or ritual capable of triggering that gift. Your redhead probably just went through a test to predict her gift’s grade."

"What are the grades? Same as skills?"

"Yeah. From lowest to highest: E, D, C, B, A, S, SS, SSS.

There are three academies that won’t accept anyone below A, even if your gift can evolve later."

The cubs both held their breath.

Lightchaser continued.

"The three schools are: Dog Pasture, Burrowbug Swamp... and—"

Her gaze swept across their wide, hopeful eyes.

"—Moonlight Marsh."