Flora looked at those swaying heads and sighed.
Ilya didn’t say anything, just stood by and watched, her expression the same as always: “I’ll just watch you handle it yourself.”
Flora stood up, about to speak, when footsteps came from upstairs.
Another shadowy figure came down.
But… this person seemed very sleepy, walking unsteadily, rubbing his eyes as he went—first his left eye, then his right.
He reached the corner of the stairs, glanced down groggily, and then froze in place.
His hand, still mid-rub, stopped on his face, his mouth slightly open.
He saw Flora. He saw the people lying on the ground. He saw his companions—immobilized, eyes wide.
It probably took his brain three seconds to process the scene.
Then he turned and ran back upstairs.
After two steps, his feet suddenly slipped. Looking closely, he saw that a thin layer of ice had somehow formed on the stairs.
“Ah——”
He fell backward, flailing his arms wildly in the air.
Flora was already in front of him.
One hand caught the falling man, the other covered his mouth.
Frost spread.
Done.
Flora looked down at this man.
His eyes were still wide, his face full of confusion. His mind was probably thinking, ‘What just happened to me?’
The fifth one.
Flora lifted her head, glanced at Ilya standing beside her, and smiled.
Ilya didn’t speak, but the corner of her mouth seemed to twitch. She might have wanted to smile, but held back.
The words in her heart, ‘There are quite a lot of them,’ didn’t come out.
Flora dragged this man down and tossed him together with the other three.
Then she went upstairs again and brought down the first one she’d caught in the room.
The five men lay in a neat row, all unable to move, all with eyes open.
Some had eyes wide, as if they hadn’t recovered from the shock.
Some had eyes full of anger, wishing they could glare Flora to death.
Were the five of them wiped out by a single girl?
But regardless of the look, they all meant the same thing.
In this situation where they couldn’t do anything, the expressions seemed somewhat innocent.
Flora stood before them, looking down at the five faces with different expressions.
Inside, she was actually somewhat shocked as well.
These five were all from the demon race, coming to human territory to steal. How strange.
The rain was still falling, pattering.
The wind blew in through the door, very cold.
She crouched down, looking at the one in front.
“I’ll ask you a question. If the answer is yes, blink.”
The man blinked once.
“Did you sneak over from the demon race side?”
That man blinked once.
“Why come to steal? No money?”
That man blinked again.
Flora paused for a few seconds.
She looked at them. Their clothes were tattered—not like seasoned thieves.
It looked like they were just out of money, so they came to this human town to steal.
After all, this was a small town that border traders passed through. There would be traveling merchants, and these people usually had good stuff on them, so they came here to steal.
She sighed and looked outside.
Rain was still falling, the streets empty.
Send them to the Security Bureau?
At this hour, the Security Bureau had no one.
Moreover, if handed over to humans, humans would most likely kill them, because it was members of the demon race who had crossed the border to steal in a human town.
But stealing didn’t deserve death.
Besides, they really looked too poor to have any money.
She recalled what those people had said earlier: “can’t survive.”
She remembered a few months ago, in order to save Eileen, she herself had done something she shouldn’t have.
But Flora didn’t want to get involved with them either.
Let them leave quickly, go back to the demon race side, while it’s night.
She sighed.
“Get up,” she said.
Those people were stunned.
Flora raised her hand and removed the ice from them.
The chilling aura dispersed.
Those people could move, but they still lay on the ground, not daring to.
“Get up, go.”
Those people slowly got up, looking at each other in disbelief.
“Scram back to the demon race,” Flora said. “Don’t come again. If you do, it won’t end like this.”
The leader opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn’t.
Flora didn’t look at him.
She stood at the door, watching the rain outside.
Those people stumbled out, running into the rain.
They ran for a bit, then ran faster, soon disappearing into the darkness.
Flora stood at the door, looking in the direction they had disappeared.
Then she closed her eyes, turned around expressionlessly, and went upstairs.
Back in the room, Ilya was still sitting on the bed’s edge, watching her.
“Let them go?”
“Mm.” Flora walked to the window and pushed it open a crack.
The sound of rain rushed in, pattering.
She stood for a while, then also walked back to the bed and lay down.
She lay down, staring at the ceiling.
Her mind couldn’t stop, repeatedly replaying the entire process from catching the first person to releasing everyone.
Also remembering that strange feeling when she raised her hand to let them go.
Flora turned over, then turned again.
She tossed and turned, the blanket rustling.
She couldn’t sleep.
She turned over, staring at the ceiling.
Pitch black, nothing visible.
Only the sound of rain, constantly ringing.
She turned over again, facing Ilya’s side.
Ilya had her back to her, didn’t move, but wasn’t asleep.
“Mother,” she called softly.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Mm.”
Ilya didn’t speak.
Flora lay there hesitantly for a while, then sat up.
“I want to go for a walk.”
Ilya turned over, looking at her, looking at Flora’s eyes.
There was some tiredness in her eyes.
“Maybe I’ll come back after a short walk,” Flora said again calmly.
Ilya quietly looked into her eyes, then nodded, not dissuading her.
Flora stood up, quickly threw on her coat, and pushed open the door.
The hallway was pitch black.
She went downstairs, pushed open the inn’s door, walked onto the street, and stepped into the still-falling rain.
The rain was no longer heavy now, much lighter than before she slept, back to that fine and continuous state.
The sound hitting the ground was soft.
She walked alone on the empty streets.
Rain fell on her face, also on her hair.
Footsteps were drowned out by the rain.
She actually didn’t know where she was going.
Just came out for a walk.
A walk without purpose.
Rain fell on her, soaking her, but she didn’t dodge, nor think to take an umbrella.
Maybe this time out, she just wanted to get wet in the rain.
To be a bit clearer, a bit more comfortable.
Also to listen up close to the dense sound of rain, which also makes one feel much better.
She just walked like that, her figure disappearing into the rainy night.