"But still… she carried that letter home with the utmost care."

"Maybe she only realized how precious it was after losing it. The fairy postwoman used to crumple her letters all the time! So rough!"

"The fairy postwoman endured countless hardships bringing the letter back to Arisentna—but not to keep it. She delivered it again, to the place that letter had always wanted to go.

"For that one letter, she gave up her most precious treasure—the Moonlight Crown—yet she never expected anything in return.

"She lit a bonfire in a ruined city without even realizing it.

"The letter never traveled far. She joined the Divine Game. Ever heard of GodDraw77? That was the letter's dream—and also the postwoman's dream.

"It's only natural that a letter and its postwoman would share the same dream.

"In the end, when that letter carrying the fairy postwoman's dream reached the place of their shared destiny, the letter summoned her at the most critical moment of the game—and together, they won."

Rita's voice grew faster, her words tumbling out in rhythm with her strikes. As she spoke the last line, her sweeping kick hit the armored guardian's weak point, draining the last drop of its HP.

She hit the ground hard. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mistblade, Maple Syrup, and Pine Bloom had already reached the mahjong table.

"Lightchaser! Draw!" she shouted.

The antique lantern rose high into the air, the moon inside shining brighter than ever.

At the exact moment the iron guardian fell, Lightchaser lunged forward, grabbed a tile, and shouted, "It's Red Dragon!"

"Big Seven Stars! Hu!"

"Pong!"

"9-Bamboo!"

"Kong!"

Four voices rang out nearly at once.

What was supposed to be an adrenaline-pumping youth tournament now sounded like a chaotic tea-house brawl—everyone shouting, slamming tiles, ignoring every rule.

Through the glass wall of the game room, Rita saw the cloud whales outside freeze mid-swim.

Had she won?

All at once, the whales dissolved like mist in the wind, fading into nothing. Maple Syrup, Mistblade, and Pine Bloom vanished as well.

Only Rita and the tiny Lightchaser sprite remained, facing each other across the table.

She had won.

She was GodDraw77.

Wait—this was the fifth round, wasn't it? She'd beaten the guardian in just over three minutes…

The official GodDraw77 record was one hundred fifty-nine minutes.

Had she just broken the speed record?

...

"Ah, why that title? I thought it'd be 'Absolute Seven Stars' or something! She only beat Deceitful Bloom by two seconds!"

"Yeah, I figured it'd be 'BlueStar Seven Stars' at least. Why would Divine Game name it that?"

"Because back then, when I won, what everyone remembered most was the moment I played GodDraw77. Even now, when people think of that match, the first thing that comes to mind is that word. So the Divine Game named the title after it."

"But from now on, everyone who watched this game—what they'll remember most—is the fairy tale she told, right?"

"Yes. And... all the younglings in Arisentna will grow up hearing it. The fairy postwoman, the Moonlight Crown, and that crumpled letter."

"That's the story of the Moon Postwoman."

...

Above the Twilight Library, an ethereal voice echoed.

[World Announcement: The fastest completion record for "GodDraw77" has been broken. The game is officially renamed "The Moon Postwoman."]

[World Announcement: The fastest completion record for "GodDraw77" has been broken. The game is officially renamed "The Moon Postwoman."]

[World Announcement: The fastest completion record for "GodDraw77" has been broken. The game is officially renamed "The Moon Postwoman."]

The announcement repeated three times before stopping.

Then came another from the 4-Bamboo corridor.

[Update Notice: Divine Game introduces a new "Lightchaser Moment Reward." Apprentices who unlock "The Moon Postwoman" three consecutive years will receive this reward.]

All the screens on the field shattered and disappeared, leaving only a single closed, pure-white door.

The audience erupted into cheers and applause, but not a single person asked where the apprentices had gone.

Lightchaser sat quietly in her seat, utterly out of sync with the excitement around her.

The only others who didn't join in were in the special audience section—Ash Cinders and the black cat.

The black cat stood, grabbed Blood Elf by the hands, and spun her around in a quick, clumsy dance. But it couldn't bear the silence any longer. It turned to the elf and burst out, "Why aren't you happy?! Your apprentice just became the Moon Postwoman!"

Lightchaser spoke softly. "And who is my apprentice? Do you still remember her?"

The black cat blinked, confused by what seemed like a foolish question, then quickly answered, "The Moon Postwoman, of course!"

Lightchaser asked again, "And her classmates? Do you remember them?"

The black cat tilted its head. "Oh, the Oak Owl, the Moon Fox, Candlebeast."

Lightchaser studied its face closely—and realized it didn't even see the problem in its own answer.

The beings of Arisentna had forgotten Rita and the others.

No, to be precise, they had forgotten almost every strange apprentice who had appeared over the past few years.

Their faces, names, and words had all grown hazy.

The only reason she remembered… was probably because—

Lightchaser slowly opened her hand. Resting in her palm was a small orb of soft, glowing white light.

It had appeared there the moment the game ended.

She knew what it was. After every Divine Game victory, the system would materialize a miniature soulfire for the champion. She already had eleven Moonlight Crowns.

She had never known what to do with them. But now, she thought she finally understood.

Her lips pressed tightly together as she stared at the shining fragment in her hand. All around her, everyone else was still celebrating, too caught up in the noise to notice.

She raised the glowing shard and waved it lightly in the air.

It streaked out like a comet, trailing a stream of light, tiny stars swirling within it, scattering like a miniature meteor shower.

So childish.

She lifted her gaze toward the special stands and saw Ash Cinders waving a red one, while Wail held a blue one beside her.

Lightchaser's eyes softened, and she lowered her hand again.

What she had received was GodDraw77—the most special of them all.

Or no… there was no GodDraw77 anymore.

Only The Moon Postwoman.

The game wasn't long. When the audience finally began to leave, it was still before ten o'clock.

The principals had already gone. No one lingered to wonder where the Moon Postwoman had disappeared to—a player who usually stayed until half the audience had cleared out.

The thread of memory hadn't been cut; it simply faded into a perfectly placed blank space.

It was absurd—and terrifying.

When the vast arena finally fell quiet, only three figures remained: Wail, Ash Cinders, and Lightchaser.

Then Wail, too, departed, her voice drifting away with the wind. "Gods…"

Across the empty arena, across the sands of the Endless Desert, Ash Cinders looked toward the solitary figure in the stands.

Since the day they'd met, it was the first time she had ever seen loneliness in the elf's eyes.

She couldn't help but call out, trying to break that silence. "You okay?"

After a long pause, the reply came softly.

"I'm fine. It's just… a different kind of regret."

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