"As payment, crush her thoroughly. Shatter that unfounded arrogance of hers—make her too afraid to step onto the Crown Cup stage."

"Additionally, I’ll provide all her enrollment records and intel."

"You... can fix the match arrangements?" Aerin’s eyes widened slightly.

"That’s none of your concern, Miss Aerin. Focus solely on the match. Defeat her utterly—without causing casualties."

"Well? Your answer?" A faint smile played on Flann’s lips; he seemed utterly unconcerned she’d refuse.

And as he’d predicted—

"With Mentor Flann going this far, refusing would be ungrateful," Aerin replied. She’d been desperate for a chance to teach Tilisha a lesson herself. Flann’s offer filled her with delight.

"Don’t thank me. You want to teach that rogue Divine Maiden a harsh lesson. I want to keep her off the Crown Cup stage. Our goals align." Flann turned away, hands clasped behind his back. "Your match is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon—third bout. I’ll be there to watch. Don’t disappoint me."

"Understood. Thank you, Mentor." *Sorry, Tilisha. Blame yourself—you’ve made too many enemies. Too many people want you gone.*

How did Flann know about the rift between Aerin and Tilisha? Simple. Ever since Tilisha joined Dilin’s team, he’d been monitoring her—and her entire class—tracking her every move.

This half-Elf’s dedication to ousting Dilin from Coleman Academy was absolute. He’d stop at nothing.

"Ugh, headache." Back in his dorm, Dilin removed his hairpin and prepared for tomorrow’s rookie Divine Maiden tournament. He laid out every usable item:

Daily sign-in rewards, weekly tokens—twenty days of routines and weeklies had netted him sixteen tokens. After spending two against beastmen, he had fourteen left. Adding sign-in bonuses, he’d saved up twenty.

Sign-in rewards mostly gave blind potions and cheap offensive alchemicals, with rare Thunder Alchemy Flasks. His weekly free draws yielded nothing but more blind potions and the occasional flask.

*At this rate, I’ll become a human flashbang,* Dilin thought wryly. *In real combat, I’ll just be chucking blind potions from the backline—friend or foe, everyone gets blinded.*

But none of these would help tomorrow. Divine Maiden tournaments banned all items except Divine Rights, Divine Maiden Realms, and a Maiden’s signature weapon. No alchemicals, scrolls, or staves. This was a pure test of Divine power and combat skill.

So tomorrow, Dilin’s only weapon would be...

His gaze drifted to the corner, where an old, rusted firearm leaned against the wall.

Firearms were easy to handle in this world, and his aim wasn’t bad. But against Divine Maidens? Even with perfect headshots, their Realms would absorb every bullet.

Nearly all Coleman Academy’s rookie Divine Maidens had undergone Divine Maiden Transformation. Those who hadn’t—like Dilin—were rare. An untransformed Maiden versus a full Divine Maiden? It was dimensional dissonance. And Tilisha couldn’t even use her Realm yet.

Dilin could already picture tomorrow: himself cowering in a corner, hands over his head.

*That year, I stood with hands in pockets... too scared to throw a punch.*

Even a moderately strong opponent would crush him. No—*anyone* would relish bullying a petite, defenseless girl, right?

He sighed. Even with the cheat-like Golden Chalice Butterfly, raw power couldn’t be rushed. If fate demanded he take this beating, he’d take it.

All he could pray for was avoiding rivals he’d crossed. With so many rookies, the odds were slim.

*Seriously, Tilisha never picks fights. She just wants peace. But the "legitimate" Maidens keep making her life hell. She defends herself—that’s all.*

The tournament draw was random chaos. With so many participants, the chance of facing an enemy was tiny. Dilin believed that—until the schedule landed in every Maiden’s hands that evening.

Dilin stared grimly at the sheet he’d just retrieved from Tilisha’s dorm door.

With so many matches, events were split across venues. Each Maiden received only their venue’s schedule.

He ignored all other bouts. His eyes locked onto tomorrow afternoon’s third match:

**Venue 23 (Indoor)**

**3rd Bout (3:00 PM): Tilisha vs. Aerin Cadifen**

"...What the actual hell." After a long silence, Dilin cursed.

*Weird. My pity counter hasn’t triggered lately. My luck should be stable—not rock-bottom. How did this happen?*

Then it hit him.

*This coincidence? Seriously?*

*No way. Only idiots believe that.*

Someone was rigging this.

He knew it—but without proof, how could he protest? The organizers would just shrug: *"Random draw. Fair, transparent, public."* He’d be powerless.

Even with evidence, who’d side with him?

Divine Rights and Realms mattered above all. Dilin understood that now, deeper than ever.

Fist clenched around the Golden Chalice Butterfly, he checked the countdown to his Divine Maiden Transformation:

**9 days, 5 hours.**