Flora stared at them, and at him.
She saw the bloodstains on their clothes, some already dried into dark red, looking eerie in the firelight. Some blood was still wet, streaking downward as the rain washed it.
It had to be Eileen’s blood.
The string that had been taut in Flora’s mind snapped completely at that moment.
Without thinking, she walked out from behind the tree, her footsteps splashing in the rain—pat, pat—the sound very light, yet heavy as if something was dragging.
The group heard the almost inaudible sound and turned around.
They recognized Flora instantly.
“It’s her! This woman! Back then, she subdued all of us, single-handedly took down all five of us—”
“Boss!” a thief pointed at Flora, his voice urgent and panicked.
He couldn’t finish his words. The sound caught in his throat because Flora had already walked up to him.
Her hand clamped around his neck, and an ice blade thrust from her palm, piercing straight through his heart.
His eyes went wide, his mouth open, and a ghastly muffled sound came from his throat. Then his whole body went limp. Warm blood gushed from his chest, splattering onto Flora’s body and face.
She didn’t dodge the spray of blood.
She simply tossed the corpse aside and turned to the next one.
The others froze for a moment, not yet processing what had happened. But in that instant, Flora was already in front of the second man.
An ice blade slashed across his throat. Blood sprayed, coating her. He clutched his neck, trying desperately to scream but unable to, then fell weakly to the ground, convulsing.
“Attack! Everyone attack!”
Someone finally snapped out of it, realizing the situation, and shouted.
Hearing that angry cry, the others shook off their mental confusion. Then, in an instant, fear seized control. They grabbed their knives and lunged at Flora.
But it was already too late.
Flora was simply too fast.
She moved like a shadow, weaving through the crowd so quickly that her exact position was impossible to track.
The moment anyone spotted her, she was already behind someone else, and that person collapsed, then she vanished back into the darkness.
Flora held a short sword made of ice, stabbing it into a man’s chest, pulling it out swiftly, then thrusting it into another’s abdomen.
Blood splattered everywhere, mixing with the rain and mud, thick and disgusting.
Suddenly, one man seemed to anticipate her movement. He charged from the side and swung his blade at Flora.
But at that moment, Flora sidestepped perfectly without even glancing at him. She whipped around and formed an ice spike, driving it into his chest.
His chest was pierced. The impact shoved him backward, pinning him against a tree trunk.
His eyes bulged as he stared at her. His lips moved, but nothing came out. Then his body went limp.
Another man rushed from the left front, a dagger aimed straight at her waist.
Flora stood still.
She didn’t move. Instead, she raised her left hand.
The ice sword in her left hand elongated instantly, striking into his chest before the dagger could reach her.
The man’s forward momentum died. Blood seeped slowly from his chest. The knife in his hand dropped less than half a meter from Flora.
Flora pulled the ice sword out, and the man collapsed.
Sixth, seventh, eighth.
One after another.
They couldn’t stop her.
She was too fast—they couldn’t see her movements at all.
She was too ruthless—every blow she dealt was fatal.
She was covered in blood. She couldn’t tell if it was hers, theirs, or maybe Eileen’s.
She didn’t care.
One of the remaining men tried to run. Seeing the others fall, his survival instinct kicked in.
But after two steps, he felt the wet ground suddenly harden beneath his feet. A thin layer of ice formed instantly on the surface.
He stepped onto it, lost his balance, and slid forward. He crashed face-first into the mud.
Before he could get up, Flora was already beside him. She crouched slowly, raised her right hand, and the ice sword pierced his heart.
“Wh-what is she?!”
The remaining men shouted, their voices trembling violently, filled with overwhelming fear.
Another man shouted:
“Can you feel it?! Her mana!”
“Su-suppression… This is bloodline suppression!”
Flora heard them, but she acted as if she hadn’t. She kept charging to the next man, slashing hard.
With each kill, the men’s fear doubled.
The expressions on their faces shifted from initial ferocity to terror, from terror to utter despair.
They looked at Flora like she was a monster from the abyss.
Few were left.
Eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth.
“She’s not human at all!”
“She’s a demon! She’s a demon!”
“Impossible! Her disguise…”
Someone tried to kneel and beg for mercy.
Flora walked past him without looking.
Because she saw another man.
The one who must have been the boss. He held a knife, the blade thick with blood.
That blood was Eileen’s.
Flora could smell it.
The tall figure lunged at her.
Flora didn’t move.
Then, in an instant, a ring of ice walls rose up around him, converging inward from all sides.
He smashed into them and was trapped.
Pwah!
The man froze.
He looked down at his pierced chest, then lifted his head with difficulty, staring at Flora standing not far away.
He tried to speak, but only blood flowed from his mouth.
His eyes were full of disbelief.
He couldn’t believe that the one who killed him was a girl who looked so young.
“You… you…”
He spoke indistinctly, blood filling his mouth.
Flora didn’t answer.
She walked over to him. The ice walls melted.
She raised her sword and stabbed again.
Pulled it out, stabbed again.
Once.
Twice.
The man collapsed, his face and eyes frozen in disbelief.
The last man—the one who had knelt and begged—stood there, his legs trembling, his arms trembling.
He looked at Flora. His lips quivered, and his voice came out in broken fragments.
“You… you are… and your bloodline level is higher than all of us…”
Flora looked at him, holding the bloodstained ice sword.
But she didn’t strike immediately.
“Why… why would a demon like you help a human…”
Flora walked over slowly.
He wanted to bolt, but before he could even rise, the ice blade had already pierced him.
He looked down at the ice blade in his chest, and a gush of blood poured from his mouth.
“Because…”
Flora whispered in his ear, her voice so soft it was nearly drowned out by the rain.
“She is my sister.”