Chapter 27: Forgot to Turn Off Auto-Pickup

Cecilia really gave me a tough one.

Rita grumbled inwardly, eyeing her broken sword before tossing it to the ground.

Despite this act of surrender, no jeers came from the stands.

Don’t laugh—you couldn’t beat Momoka either.

Rita’s actions had proven that, accidents or not, she belonged here.

Her loss wasn’t due to skill, but her weapon’s inferiority.

The exam didn’t restrict weapons. A good weapon and master complemented each other. Facing Momoka’s superior spear, Rita was just unlucky.

Seeing Rita discard her weapon, Momoka exhaled in relief.

Winning the first round undefeated, Momoka felt joy, but she genuinely pitied Rita in this final match.

The referee took Rita’s action as surrender, announcing loudly.

“Rita, surrenders—”

“Wait!”

Rita’s shout cut off the referee.

Momoka’s heart sank. “Rita, what’s this about?”

Without a weapon, how could she fight, let alone win?

“No big deal. Other candidates fought empty-handed, right?” Rita glanced at Johnson, who grinned back from the scarred stands.

“She’s her, you’re you! Fighting me barehanded, you’ll die!” Momoka’s expression shifted. Rita wasn’t giving up.

From their earlier clash, Momoka knew Rita wasn’t someone she could beat while holding back. Her full-force attacks broke Rita’s sword—imagine them hitting her body.

“Won’t know till I try.”

“It’s just an exam! You don’t need to go this far.”

“You said it’s an exam. Why don’t you surrender?” Rita blinked.

Me, surrender?

Moral blackmail?

Momoka worried about hurting Rita, but surrendering would betray herself, the exam, and the Holy Knight title.

Their back-and-forth left the referee uncertain, looking to the examiners. At Angus’s signal, the referee spoke again.

“Match continues!”

“Ah, kidding! I didn’t mean for you to surrender. Beating you myself is the point.” Rita stretched, crouching like a cat eyeing a sparrow, mimicking Momoka’s earlier tone. “Here I come.”

“Rita, don’t—”

Before Momoka finished, Rita closed in like a shadow.

“That’s it! That move beat me!” Grom’s eyes lit up, slapping his thigh and standing, only to collapse in pain from his injuries.

But Momoka wasn’t Grom. Her instincts outpaced her thoughts, her spear thrusting at a tricky angle.

Rita twisted like a fish, slipping past the spearhead.

Momoka retreated, switching to a two-handed grip, her spear chasing Rita’s back, only for Rita to dodge, closing the gap further.

No more sparking clashes—just a silent, intense duel rivaling the earlier ferocity.

The roles had reversed.

Momoka was in agony. She feared hurting Rita but knew her restrained attacks couldn’t win.

A spear was a long weapon, and with Rita so close, countering was nearly impossible.

Crap, I’m at the edge!

Momoka’s peripheral vision caught the boundary line less than half a meter behind. One push from Rita, and she’d be out.

Thud.

Rita grabbed Momoka’s collar.

It was over.

But Rita pulled her back from the edge.

“Winning by out-of-bounds is boring.” Rita cracked her neck. “Again!”

Saying that now? Who kicked people out on day one?

But today, Rita wasn’t taking advantage.

Fine!

Momoka gritted her teeth, hurling her spear at Rita.

It grazed Rita’s shoulder, embedding in the ground beyond the boundary.

Rather than win like this, she’d have a fair, equal fight.

Momoka raised her fists.

“Again!”

After a few punches, Momoka realized an equal fight was a pipe dream.

Rita’s refusal to surrender wasn’t about pride or desperation. Her retreat wasn’t just due to Momoka’s restraint.

Without her sword, Rita was stronger.

“When Momoka ditched her spear, she lost,” Alber sighed, nudging Johnson, his last round’s opponent. “How’s she compare to you?”

“If I could touch her, I’d manage,” Johnson said after a pause.

“That confident?” Alber raised a brow.

“My condition is if I can touch her.” Johnson clarified. “Against her, unless I outlast her stamina, I’d lose.”

Momoka felt the same. Rita didn’t fight like a human, but a skittering cat, rendering normal tactics useless.

She should’ve noticed Rita’s oddity when she dodged her attacks, but Momoka was too focused on not hurting her to see the obvious.

Momoka was almost glad Rita had no claws, or she’d be shredded.

Even so, Rita’s attacks were heavy, overwhelming Momoka.

But this raw, fist-to-fist fight was thrilling!

“Rita, wins!”

The referee’s call surprised no one.

For the first time, no complaints followed Rita’s victory.

Without her earlier incidents, some might’ve even clapped.

Not a weakling’s brawl or a one-sided crush—this was a riveting, equal fight.

Rita grinned, pulling Momoka up from the dust.

Like always, she saluted the examiners, blew a heart to the stands, then hoisted Momoka’s fiery spear and bounced off.

This Rita’s a weird one.

Momoka gave a wry smile, feeling oddly exhilarated.

Wait.

What did she just take from me?