Dodging the sudden attack with a sidestep, March 7th quickly retreated, finally getting a clear look at the culprit who had ambushed her.
"Stelle?!!!"
Seeing Stelle standing in her original spot, baseball bat in hand, March 7th exclaimed in shock.
"Don't blame me, little March. I had no choice—your strength is just too overwhelming," Stelle replied, her tone dripping with playful mockery, utterly unrepentant.
Her failed ambush left Stelle frustrated. Why didn't it work? Now things were complicated. After all, March 7th was a member of the Chat Group. Though she hadn't shown much combat prowess in Belobog, who knew how strong she truly was?
And that Chat Group? A straight-up cheat.
Cheaters ruined game balance.
The memory of being steamrolled by hackers in online games flashed through Stelle's mind, hardening her resolve. March 7th had to be eliminated first—otherwise, the Luotian Grand Ritual would be unplayable.
Of course, Stelle had carefully controlled her strike's force—just enough to knock March 7th unconscious, rendering her unable to fight without causing actual harm.
They were friends, after all. Stelle would never actually hurt March.
But March 7th, hearing Stelle's explanation, felt her temper flare.
Her eyes widened in indignation. 'Stelle, you absolute gremlin.'
This girl had dragged her into signing up, and now she wanted to eliminate her first?
Unacceptable! Did March have no dignity?
Raaah! She was mad. Time to teach this Stellaron Spirit a lesson!
...
Himeko wasn't angry at Stelle's actions. She knew their relationship well—this level of mischief barely counted as their usual banter. No real fallout would come of it.
"Sigh…"
But seeing Stelle's plan, Himeko couldn't help but sigh.
You miscalculated, Stelle.
Others might not know, but Himeko was well aware: this wasn't the same March 7th as before.
The current March had fused the Astral Express itself into her Martial Spirit, amplifying her power exponentially.
Forget everything else—just the Express's core energy source granted March infinite stamina, allowing her to spam ultimate attacks without draining her own reserves.
Himeko sighed again.
Stelle, you brought this on yourself.
Nearby, Zhongli and Fu Hua watched the scene unmoved. As fellow Chat Group members, they knew March 7th's capabilities. The unfolding battle held no surprises for them.
In competitions like this, wasn't it natural to target the strongest first?
By that logic, March 7th being prioritized made perfect sense.
...
Back in the arena, March 7th steeled herself to teach Stelle a proper lesson.
With a whoosh, an ice bow materialized in her hands.
Gripping the bow with one hand, she nocked an arrow with the other, an icy projectile instantly forming on the string.
"Hmph! Trying to eliminate me? Dream on."
Her voice dripped with smug defiance. "Since you started this, Stelle, don't expect mercy. Take this!"
In a flash, she loosed a volley of arrows.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh—
A barrage of ice-blue projectiles streaked toward Stelle like a freezing downpour.
"Heh, don't underestimate me, March. I've been working hard where you couldn't see."
Stelle grinned, swinging her baseball bat with practiced ease.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The bat became a blur, deflecting every arrow, carving out a safe zone amidst the icy storm.
Not a single scratch touched her.
Suddenly, the arrow rain faltered—not from exhaustion, but from March's sheer disbelief.
Her eyes and mouth hung wide open.
She was stunned by Stelle's audacity.
How could someone who spent every day eating, sleeping, and chasing fun—a professional slacker—claim to have "worked hard" with a straight face?
Stelle, however, didn't care why March paused. She only saw an opportunity.
Seizing the lull, she barked at the two spectators: "What are you two doing? Help me take her down first, or none of us are making it past the prelims!"
Hu Tao and Kiana snapped to attention.
Then—
"Butterfly's Afterlife Summons!"
"By this wheel of flame, I command the heavens—turn the rings of truth!"
Twin cries rang out as fiery butterflies and a tsunami of flames erupted, surging toward March 7th.
Stelle's eyes gleamed. Quietly, she drew her Flame Lance from her spatial storage.
Path Shift:
Destruction → Preservation.
With a whoomph, the lance ignited, flames roaring to life around her.
"Flame Lance—charge!"
A torrent of fire erupted from the lance, joining the other two attacks midair. The three pyrotechnic assaults merged, forming an inferno that devoured everything in its path.
The heat was unbearable, the air itself burning, as the firestorm descended upon March 7th.
March's anger reached its peak:
'You rotten Stellaron Spirit! First you attack me, now you gang up on me? You're dead (╬ Ò﹏Ó).'
(End of Chapter)