Lightning tore through the night sky, illuminating the entire inn as if it were daylight.
Raymond staggered back, his arm shielding his face from the blinding light.
The falcon let out a sharp screech, instinctively folding its massive wings to protect its master.
BOOM—!
As the harsh thunder faded, the dust gradually settled.
Through the broken wall, a slender figure walked slowly under the moonlight.
Her black dress rustled in the night wind.
Above her pale neck, a pair of blood-red eyes flickered in the shadows like two burning ghost flames.
“Who?!”
Raymond’s voice was sharp and alert, his body instinctively shifting into a combat stance.
The newcomer raised her hand lightly.
Faint electric sparks still lingered on her fingertips from the Divine Thunder that had just dissipated.
She tilted her head and swept her gaze over Raymond.
“Huh? You’re still alive?”
She could sense that Raymond was only at the Bronze Rank. Logically, taking a Divine Thunder strike like that should have left him either dead or severely injured—but here he was, completely unharmed.
That puzzled her.
But the confusion didn’t last long.
After all, beside Raymond, the Silver Grade monster falcon was staring at her with murderous intent.
Her gaze swept over the falcon before Celeste shifted her attention to Mephia, who lay in the room.
Mephia was still unconscious, her face pale as paper, her breathing faint and irregular.
Clearly, there was no way to wake her now.
The moment Raymond recognized the newcomer, his pupils contracted sharply.
He gritted his teeth and spat out the words: “Nightingale! It’s you again!”
Celeste looked at him, studied him for a moment, and finally recognized him.
“Oh, if it isn’t my old friend Raymond. I heard you hate me quite a bit.”
The feud between Raymond and Nightingale had long been spread throughout Haila City by gossips.
As the protagonist of that story, Celeste knew everything.
Raymond stared at her, his chest heaving.
He suddenly raised his hand and pointed at the unconscious Mephia on the bed, his voice sharp.
“So Mephia really is colluding with a witch!”
Celeste let out a light laugh, tinged with mockery.
“Hmph. You have no right to talk about her. What makes you any better? Even if the Inquisition has internal conflicts, dealing with another Inquisitor so openly can’t be proper—unless you’re not actually Inquisitors.”
Raymond’s expression shifted slightly.
Celeste looked at him, that blood-red gaze now glimmering with an all-seeing light.
The room fell into dead silence.
After a few seconds, Raymond suddenly laughed.
“Nightingale, I’ll be straight with you. We’re from Snake Eye. Snake Eye and the Witch Council have a partnership. You’d better not ruin the relationship between Snake Eye and the Witch Council over this.”
He paused, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
“Nightingale, you’re from the Witch Council too, right? You should know that offending Snake Eye won’t do you any good.”
Their conflict would affect the relationship between Snake Eye and the Witch Council?
Celeste couldn’t help it.
She let out a snort of laughter.
Never mind that Raymond was just an insignificant nobody in Snake Eye.
Even if she were a core member of the Witch Council, she wouldn’t be able to influence the relationship between the two organizations over her own personal matters.
In short, neither of them was important enough in the eyes of Snake Eye or the Witch Council.
“Raymond, you think too highly of yourself. And by your logic, did you ever consider that when you were doing everything you could to hunt me down before?”
Raymond’s expression froze.
He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the words.
Finally, he could only snarl viciously, “You—don’t be stubborn!”
Celeste let out a cold laugh.
Then she turned and walked step by step toward the bed.
Reaching the bedside, she looked down at the unconscious Mephia for a moment, then turned her head to Raymond and said coldly, “Mephia—I’m saving her today, no matter what.”
Raymond’s face went pale.
“You!”
He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything else, Celeste raised her hand.
Divine Thunder!
Blinding lightning exploded from her palm, weaving into a dense, impenetrable net of electricity that swept toward Raymond and the falcon!
At the same time, her other hand swept out, and blazing flames surged from the void, intertwining with the lightning into a devastating torrent!
These two spells normally couldn’t be cast instantly, but she had been preparing in secret while rambling with Raymond, so she could strike in an instant.
Raymond was horrified.
“Falcon!”
He screamed.
The falcon’s massive body lunged forward, spreading its wings to forcefully block the torrent of lightning and flames!
BOOM—!
The violent impact shook the entire ruined inn.
Pebbles rained down from the ceiling, and cracks spread across the walls like a spiderweb.
The light faded.
The falcon still stood, but its left wing hung limply.
The steel-like feathers were covered in scorched, blackened cracks.
Dark red blood oozed from the wound, dripping onto the ground with a sizzling, corrosive sound.
At this point, let alone its speed, even whether it could fly was in question.
Raymond’s eyes widened in disbelief. His voice cracked with rage.
“Damn it! What have you done?!”
“You thought I was just wasting time talking? Raymond, you’re too naive.”
With a mocking laugh, Celeste grabbed Mephia and leaped out of the ruined inn.
Raymond’s face cycled through shades of green and white.
At that moment, he finally understood why everyone said witches were cunning.
They were too vicious—too damn vicious!
“Damn it! After them!”
At his command, the two remaining Inquisitors jumped out of the inn to pursue Celeste.
The falcon let out a hoarse cry and flapped its wings to chase after them.
But its speed was nowhere near what it had been.
The wound on its left wing bled with every flap, painting the air with a shower of blood.
In the end, all they could do was watch helplessly as the two figures disappeared through the broken wall and into the dense night.
After escaping the inn, Celeste didn’t take the unconscious Mephia back to Harris Manor.
Instead, after twisting and turning through the streets, she hid in another inn.
This time, she moved with great stealth, and almost no one saw her.
The Inquisitors would have no way to find them.
She carefully laid Mephia on the bed, then set up a new barrier around the room.
A faint blue magical glow flickered and vanished, merging into the walls and floor, completely isolating the room from the outside world.
After finishing, she returned to the bedside and looked down at Mephia, still unconscious.
That pale face looked especially fragile under the dim light.
Celeste’s gaze fell on Mephia’s finger—on the silver ring that gleamed faintly in the lamplight.
This was the perfect chance to take back the Witch’s Tear inside the ring!
As soon as she thought it, she acted.
She gently took Mephia’s hand and slowly slipped off the ring.
The ring felt cool to the touch, engraved with extremely fine magical lines.
There was a seal blocking her magical detection, but in front of someone wielding Eros Energy like her, that seal was worthless.
With a simple confession, the ring’s seal crumbled.
Celeste extended her magical power into the ring and found what she was looking for—her Witch Gem: the Witch’s Tear.
It was a transparent crystal, no bigger than a thumb, lying quietly inside.
This crystal could hide her aura, allowing her to evade the Witch Hunters’ pursuit.
With it, even if the Witch Hunters came to Haila City, finding her would be no easy task.
Pocketing the Witch’s Tear, the burden on her heart finally eased.
Celeste let out a long breath, feeling her whole body relax.
She slipped the ring back onto Mephia’s finger, then stood up and walked to the window.
After a final check of the barrier, ensuring Mephia wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, she left the inn.
She had been away from Harris Manor for too long.
Although she had left a Magical Clone behind, it might still arouse suspicion from the etiquette tutor, Margaret, and Earl Harris.
She had to get back as soon as possible.
As for Mephia, she left another Magical Clone here.
That way, even if Mephia woke up and turned hostile, she wouldn’t be able to catch her.
Heh. Trying to catch a witch through a Magical Clone? A pipe dream!
Three days passed quietly like that.
Staring at Mephia’s deep sleeping face, Celeste finally couldn’t resist anymore.
She took a small cloth bundle from her pocket and pulled out a paintbrush she had bought on a whim.
She glanced at the brush, then at Mephia’s sleeping face.
A mischievous smile curled at the corner of her mouth.
Anyway, she wouldn’t wake up now.
She wouldn’t know either.
Just draw a little?
Consider it payback for all the pressure she’d put on her these past days?
She bit her lower lip, hesitated, but finally couldn’t hold back.
So she picked up the brush, dipped it in some homemade paint, and leaned close to Mephia’s face.
One stroke.
Two strokes.
Three strokes…
She drew a big black circle around Mephia’s left eye, then another equally big one around the right eye.
The two circles were large and round, making her look exactly like a panda.
No sooner had she finished and taken a step back to admire her work than a sharp sword aura came from beneath her.
She instinctively tried to dodge, but the aura was too fast—it was upon her in an instant.
Then she felt the world spin.
When she came to, she was pinned firmly to the bed, a thin sword pressed against her throat.
The cold touch of the blade made even her swallowing cautious.
She looked up.
She met a pair of golden eyes.
Those eyes held no confusion or daze—only a dangerously sharp edge, as if they could take a life in an instant.
Mephia sat astride her, one hand pressing her shoulder, the other holding the thin sword as she looked down at her.
“Who are you?!”
Celeste stared at her, instinctively alarmed.
But when she saw Mephia’s murderous eyes—and the big, round panda circles she had just drawn on her face…
She paused.
Then she couldn’t help it—pfft—she burst out laughing.
Mephia’s brow furrowed even tighter.
“What are you laughing at?!”
Her sword tip pushed forward another half inch, nearly piercing the skin of Celeste’s throat.
Celeste quickly stifled her laughter, but the amusement in her eyes was impossible to hide.
“You… you lost your memory?”
Mephia’s movements faltered slightly.
A trace of confusion flickered through that sharp killing intent.
Then her memory returned, and she gradually came fully awake.
“Celeste?”