A Baffling Defeat

Although she knew the other party's methods, it wasn't something she could just talk about freely.

"Tight-lipped" Lan Qingyou—this was likely why she had been able to awaken the Analytic Magic Eye.

If it were anyone else, they could have made a fortune just by selling information.

Though, the possibility of being hunted down afterward would also be quite high.

“Wait! This time, Alice's fight seems a bit different from her previous ones!”

“Whoa! What kind of move is that?”

“Is she summoning a familiar to fight alongside her? It looks a bit different, though.”

“What just happened? Teleportation?”

“Hold on, it looks like there’s more than one familiar.”

“Uh... why did she suddenly disappear?”

“No way! This is a defeat?! Her wins were weird before, but is she going to lose in such a weird way too?”

As the group entered the arena's view, they saw a puff of smoke explode next to Alice. From the smoke emerged a rabbit clutching a large pocket watch.

Then, everyone watched as Alice's body suddenly vanished from one spot and reappeared behind the winged enemy.

After another explosion of smoke, a hound wearing a spiked collar lunged straight for the opponent's neck.

And then...

Then Alice’s own body, along with the two familiars she had summoned, all exploded into smoke simultaneously.

Immediately after, the world consciousness announced the birdman’s victory, leaving everyone in a state of confusion.

However, it wasn't just the others in the villa; even Lan Qingyou, the boss of the Witch Group, couldn't figure out what had happened.

She actually lost?

That makes no sense!

Following that rhythm, Alice should have definitely won.

How strange...

“Ah!”

Lan Qingyou, who had been puzzled, suddenly remembered something. If that was the reason, then Alice's defeat wasn't unfair at all.

That girl... I warned her a long time ago, yet it still happened.

Has she still not overcome that stinking habit even now?

That really makes it hard to keep a straight face.

Once she understood the cause and effect, Lan Qingyou immediately adjusted her card to the Witch Group chat.

At this moment, the group was busy teasing Alice.

There was no helping it.

While the witches didn't have much interest in this grand event, Diana had directly tagged everyone in the tea party earlier.

As a result, the members of the Witch Group who didn't have any research to do today had simply started watching the live stream, only to witness the scene of Alice's defeat.

Steel Witch: “Hahaha, Alice actually got beaten by a birdman. I can't believe it.”

Flame Witch: “Is that smile the sign that you can't believe it?”

Moonlight Witch: “It’s strange. Her tactics were clearly sound.”

Thorn Witch: “It couldn't be that she had so much fun racing earlier that she couldn't adjust her brain in time, right?”

Nightmare Witch: “@Dream Witch, this won't do. You were basically easy pickings.”

Dream Witch: “Shut up, you bunch of gloating jerks.”

Silent Witch: “I think the boss warned you before.”

Radiant Witch: “Warning is one thing, but changing is another. Do you really think Alice would change?”

Flame Witch: “Probably not. But honestly, if my magic eye had that ability, I wouldn't change either.”

Moonlight Witch: “True, it’s better to be cautious.”

Steel Witch: “I'm so jealous of those who have life-saving skills and can just coast to victory.”

Nightmare Witch: “+1, I'm genuinely envious.”

Dream Witch: “What was I supposed to do? Who could have known the opponent had a built-in double attack of sonic and mental energy? It dazed me instantly.”

It seemed Alice was also analyzing the reasons for her failure.

After checking the card and confirming her suspicion, Lan Qingyou put the card back down. She cast the matter aside and continued to drift through the ocean of entertainment with the others.

Nangong Lengyue, Ursula, Li Huai, and the three white-robed witches—these familiar faces appeared one by one.

To be honest.

Lan Qingyou felt a bit of regret that the three witches representing different power systems hadn't appeared together to show off.

But on second thought, if they didn't come, they weren't exposed.

At least to the outside world, witches were just witches.

The fact that nobody knew about the division into three systems was a trump card that could barely be considered presentable.

After all, everyone currently assumed that witches fought at medium to long ranges.

If a melee-specialist witch suddenly appeared, the enemy would surely panic.

The battles continued.

Some people arrived, and others left. In just three short hours, only Lan Qingyou, Ingrid, and Ruan Qingyi remained in the Tarot Villa spectator stand.

Everyone else had been defeated due to various reasons.

Even Nangong Lengyue, the captain of the patrol team, hadn't made it to the end, which Lan Qingyou found somewhat inconceivable.

But it also indirectly proved that while the competition looked makeshift, the participants weren't all riff-raff.

Of course.

This wasn't just happening on Lan Qingyou’s side.

Aside from the actual combat, it was because the pace of the entire tournament seemed to be accelerating.

Previously, members were pulled into the arena almost every minute.

Under such intensity, those who could persevere were definitely in the minority.

It wasn't a matter of mana endurance or mental fatigue; it was simply that when facing enemies who might change every minute, small mistakes were bound to happen.

And once these small mistakes were caught by the enemy, they would prove fatal.

Moreover, as time passed, the frequency increased further.

From fifty seconds to forty, and from forty to thirty—it barely gave the contestants enough time to take a sip of water.

The number of people in the Tier 3 spectator stand was also steadily decreasing.

Not just the unaffiliated individuals, but the numbers from Tarot Villa and The Masquerade were also dwindling.

Anyone with eyes could see that the world consciousness was intentionally speeding up the process.

Due to this racial confrontation, the population on the world channel had seen a sharp decline.

It wasn't much—only about one or two million.

But for the transmigrators, who hadn't experienced such large-scale casualties in a long time, it was inevitable to feel like disposable pawns.

Meanwhile, the number of people in the Tier 1, Tier 2, and Tier 3 spectator stands was also gradually decreasing.

Even though new people kept joining in the first few hours, they couldn't keep up with the acceleration of the tournament.

It was fine if it was a civil war.

Everyone would chat and laugh, showing restraint and ending the match once the point was made.

But if they encountered a stranger, there was no possibility of holding back. They used whatever moves were the sneakiest and fastest to take the other person down, especially between different races.

In short, everyone was trying to beat each other's brains out.

And so...