Xie Xingyan opened the supply pack she had fought for earlier, only to find two nutrient solutions and a foldable tent—nothing else.
It was indeed as basic as it got—barely enough to keep her from starving.
After downing one nutrient tube, she finally had the energy to think through the true purpose of this tournament.
On the surface, the contest was about who could kill the most Zerg. But if a participant only focused on slaughtering Zerg, their mecha's operational hours would run out too quickly. When they next encountered enemies, they'd be forced offline.
And going offline meant immediate elimination. At that point, kill counts became meaningless.
Thinking it through, Xie Xingyan realized the hidden rule of this game: the champion wouldn't just be the one who killed the most Zerg, but the one who survived until the end while still having the highest tally.
Having grasped that, she set a strict routine. Each day, she avoided using her mecha for the first 43 hours, then spent nine hours hunting Zerg, keeping one hour in reserve for emergencies.
That way, she maximized the daily five-hour mecha limit.
Time flew, and soon it was the final day.
This time, however, Xie Xingyan didn't use her five-hour mecha quota right away. Instead, she held it all back.
Her wrist display told her there were six contestants left. She had to be wary of ambushes.
Her caution wasn't unfounded. Two contestants had already formed a temporary alliance, prowling the desert in search of prey.
"Move faster," Salit urged his partner impatiently. "Don't forget what you promised me."
In truth, Salit had a secret. His family had learned through back channels the real reason this tournament was being held.
So, he had bribed another contestant in advance—Rock—to help him clear away rivals in the finals.
Because of the holographic broadcast, Salit dared not state it outright. He could only drop hints to his hired muscle.
Rock, for his part, was bitter. He'd had to endure pampering this spoiled young master for days. If not for his family's desperate need for starcoins to pay off debts, he never would have agreed to such dirty work.
Their "partnership" was so suspiciously steady that even StarNet viewers were baffled.
"Wait, could these two really be… loyal brothers-in-arms?"
"No, their dynamic isn't equal. Feels more like employer and bodyguard."
"Either way, I can't believe they're not tempted by the championship."
"Doesn't matter. Two-on-one against everyone else is unfair as hell."
"Forget it—there's so few players left, we'll see the outcome soon enough."
Xie Xingyan also thought it strange. Contestant numbers were dropping abnormally fast, especially since yesterday.
Normally, after the initial bloodbath, players adapted to the desert environment and eliminations slowed down. But now…
With five hours left on the clock, she checked her wrist again. The number had dropped from six to three.
Yet along her route, she had encountered no one but a few annoying Red Ridge Beetles.
The reason became clear soon enough. Standing before her were two mechas, side by side.
At last, she understood how the others had been wiped out so quickly.
Salit's eyes gleamed with hungry determination. The final obstacle was right before him.
The two mechas moved as one, cutting off her retreat. Silver armor pressed forward aggressively, while the gray-brown mecha provided support.
Xie Xingyan knew she had no choice but to fight with everything she had.
She split her attention—spiritual power subtly interfering with the silver mecha's controls while still fending off attacks.
But piloting a mecha already consumed spiritual energy. Adding psychic interference on top of that, her reserves were burning out fast.
She had already spent 65% of her strength earlier. And in this virtual match, she couldn't rely on Forging the Spirit to recover.
Her defense grew weaker. Each time she tried to finish off one opponent, the other disrupted her.
No. If this dragged on, she'd lose everything—including her chance at Master Xu Yuan's prototype S-class mecha.
Then—she spotted it. A sandstorm brewing on the horizon. Her eyes lit up. Finally, a chance.
Feigning exhaustion, she staggered toward the storm. Salit and Rock assumed she was at her limit and gave chase.
At the last moment, she dismissed her mecha, rolled down behind a dune, and hastily pulled the foldable tent over herself, burying in the sand.
Her reckless-looking move stunned both men—and the audience.
"Is she insane? Suicide?"
But then the storm struck, howling with violent force. It swallowed the two mechas whole, sweeping them away as if they were paper (for in this worldsetting, mechas were built from lightweight alloys).
The feed went silent. Viewers gaped.
They hadn't realized a desert sandstorm could be so devastating—a calamity preserved only in interstellar history records.
And so, in the eyes of the world, Xie Xingyan's "miraculous luck" had handed her victory. She became the champion of the very first Interstellar Juvenile Mecha Tournament.
But Marshal Nalis knew better. It wasn't luck. The girl had won through wits and strategy.
What troubled her was the identity behind that avatar: this brilliant "cub" was in truth a royal princess.
Xu Yuan, aware of her concerns, spoke plainly:
"I've already sent you her personal history. She hasn't relied on the royal family for years. Just think it over carefully."
He truly wanted to help Nalis find a disciple worthy of her trust—someone who might relieve the burden she carried.
Later, as she studied Xie Xingyan's file, Nalis's eyes grew brighter. The girl wanted to leave the royal household to join the army. Nalis needed a disciple. Wasn't this a perfect match?
Two days later, Xie Xingyan received a notice from the organizers:
Honored Miss Xie Xingyan, Master Xu Yuan invites you to the Imperial Capital's Mecha Research Laboratory.