93 – That Kind of Thinking Is Just Too Pathetic
“Miss Teresa, I don’t think we need to rush up the mountain. We could wait until the other teams run into each other and start fighting, let them weaken themselves, and then go up. That way, we can conserve our strength.”
“Mmm, Miss Wenfu, that’s an excellent suggestion,” Teresa replied, her voice tinged with a leisurely smile. “What makes it especially good... is that everyone else is thinking the exact sa thing.”
Wenfu’s expression froze, her cat ears perking up. “Miss Teresa, are you making fun of for being too naive?”
“Not at all. As I said, this is the prevailing line of thought. It’s completely normal for you to think this way—avoiding unnecessary battles, letting the others wear each other down. It’s a logical and valid tactic, which is precisely why everyone thinks that way.”
“But thinking about it and actually pulling it off are two very different things. Because everyone is hoping the others will fight first... no one ends up fighting.”
“Of course, it’s not quite that simple.” Teresa glanced up toward the summit of the desolate mountain. “Miss Wenfu, did you happen to catch the earlier broadcasts?”
“The earlier broadcasts? You an the one that said four teams were eliminated, and only six remain?”
“No, I an the ones from before the top ten were decided.” A gentle breeze played with Teresa’s willowy hair. Her voice, light and ethereal, could still the mind like a sudden hush.
“Before the top ten?” Wenfu tilted her head, her tail swaying in sync.
If she recalled correctly, she’d either been watching her teammates argue or running for her life after being abandoned. She hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the broadcasts.
“Last night, Team 45 had already settled at the top of the mountain. The broadcasts were frequent—nearly half of them announced eliminations by Team 45.”
“Team 45...?” The number stirred a vague mory in Wenfu’s mind.
“Team 45 is Astrid’s team.”
“I see.” Teresa’s reminder jogged her mory—Astrid Oleniman, the eldest daughter of the Elf King and the favorite to win the Crown Tournant.
“She and her teammates have been entrenched at the mountaintop, adopting a high posture toward all challengers below. Their ssage is clear: ‘We’re not hiding. We’re waiting right here. If you want the Crownstone, co and take it—if you think you’re worthy.’” Teresa narrated, her tone vividly expressive.
“...What arrogance,” Wenfu couldn’t help but remark.
“So what? No one can beat them. Every challenger has lost. They remain unshaken at the summit.”
“Right now, the most dangerous areas aren’t even the summit—it’s the mid-mountain and the base.” Teresa continued.
“Because everyone knows there’s a savage beast guarding the top, and it probably won’t co down. Without absolute confidence, the most prudent move is to eliminate other teams first and boost your own ranking.”
“That’s true,” Wenfu agreed.
“But don’t you think... that kind of thinking is just too pathetic?” Teresa said softly, each word asured and deliberate, without turning her head.
“Huh? Why?” Wenfu asked, puzzled.
“Because people who think that way have already etched the idea into their bones that ‘Astrid is unbeatable,’ that ‘it’s enough if we just get second or third.’ They’ve imposed limits on themselves. Even they don’t believe they can win. They’re just chasing rankings. Isn’t that sad?” Teresa’s voice was calm, her tone as serene as ripples on a still lake. Yet it smoothed out the unrest in one’s chest with quiet conviction.
“...”
Wenfu’s expression flickered, as if sothing stirred within.
From her perspective, there wasn’t anything wrong with that kind of thinking. After all, she too had entertained such thoughts. But Teresa wasn’t wrong either.
There was sothing inherently persuasive about the golden-haired girl’s words. Her tone was soft and composed, like a spring breeze brushing the heart. Without anyone noticing, her words planted themselves in the listener’s thoughts, altering their perspective.
At the sa ti, Wenfu sensed—though perhaps it was only her imagination—a quiet kind of pride in Teresa’s words. Not the pride that ca from arrogance or insecurity, nor sothing deliberately perford. This was natural, effortless pride. Perhaps even Teresa herself hadn’t noticed it, but there was sothing in her words that carried the weight of unshakable confidence.
Boom-boom! At that mont, a loud explosion rumbled through the mountain, and countless bits of rubble ca crashing down from the mid-slope.
Wenfu’s expression shifted. Teresa remained calm, standing below as she looked up at the falling debris.
Just as Teresa had expected—battle had broken out. And not at the summit, but halfway up the mountain.
The cold, chanical voice of the system announced the results, marking the end of the skirmish.
‘Team 81 has been eliminated. Final rank: Top Six. Only five teams remain.’
‘Team 90 has been eliminated. Final rank: Top Five. Only four teams remain.’
Strangely, this ti the system didn’t announce who had eliminated whom.
Wenfu imdiately understood why—according to the rules, once only a few teams remained in the finals, the announcents would no longer disclose the victor. It was a matter of fairness.
“Two teams eliminated at once?” Wenfu was both pleasantly surprised and slightly alard.
Surprised that they’d made it to the top five. But also curious—what exactly had happened?
“How strange. Two teams eliminated at the sa ti?” she repeated.
“They were probably fighting at the mid-mountain for quite a while. It only just concluded,” Teresa analyzed.
“They destroyed each other?”
“No. If that had happened, the announcents would’ve overlapped—just like last night.” Teresa had made a point of studying the system. Simultaneous eliminations resulted in overlapping voice ssages.
“So if it wasn’t mutual destruction, then...?”
“It’s possible that while those two teams were fighting, a third party intervened. Mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.”
“But that seems unlikely.” Teresa added, “In the top ten finals, everyone’s hoping the other teams will clash so they can pick up the scraps. It would be... foolish—I an, impulsive—to strike so early.”
“So it wasn’t soone reaping the rewards, but rather that three teams collided mid-mountain, and one team eliminated the other two?”
“One surviving team...” Since the system hadn’t nad nas, they had no way of knowing which team that was.
Teresa didn’t know either, but judging by the sheer strength it would take to eliminate two teams single-handedly, she strongly suspected it was Felicia’s team.
“Could it be... Her Highness Felicia’s team?”
“Who knows? She might be waiting for us halfway up already.” Teresa advanced with asured grace, climbing the mountain path in elegant strides.
At this point, Teresa had more or less guessed what Felicia’s plan was.
That Whiteglass Princess likely intended to eliminate every obstacle—so that she and Astrid could have a quiet, one-on-one duel.
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