The new round of duels had begun, yet the spectator stand where Rita stood was unusually quiet.
Mistblade and Maple Syrup's display, and the evolution of their divine talent words, were plain for everyone to see. There was nothing left to question.
But Rita couldn't help hoping someone would ask.
Dawn Cicada, ever the opportunist for a good show, had ceded her spot. Now, Rita found herself in a "V" formation—Maple Syrup to her left, Mistblade to her right. A familiar arrangement.
She stared blankly at the duel unfolding in the clock arena, watching unfamiliar players move and strike.
When a flurry of skills erupted in the arena, Maple Syrup suddenly spoke.
"Did your flower wilt because you feared that if I executed the Moon Foxes, Mistblade would take it out on you? Or because you knew clearly… that if I executed them in front of you, you'd never look at me the same way again?"
