Her expression was indifferent, yet it lacked the coldness she had shown Glen just a moment ago.
“I just can’t stand people using numbers to bully others.”
“I’m not doing this for you,” Flora interrupted, her tone calm. She paused, her gaze flickering briefly over Eileen before her voice softened slightly. “Especially when it’s against a woman.”
Eileen looked up, meeting Flora’s eyes. Those eyes were tranquil, yet they seemed to hide something deep and inscrutable. Eileen wanted to say thank you, but she opened her mouth and no sound came out.
Cole couldn’t help but speak up. “But Miss, they have so many people, and… and this is our grievance. You shouldn’t be dragged into this.”
Kaan paused. It was true; Glen had already tried to lay a hand on Flora earlier.
“I’m already involved,” Flora said flatly, a hint of a smile in her voice that was almost imperceptible. “And as you saw, he was going to hit me too.”
Kaan gritted his teeth. “This was our problem to begin with. We can’t let you face it alone—”
“Then… then we’ll go with you!” Kaan declared, his jaw set.
“No need.”
Flora’s refusal was crisp and final, made without a second thought.
Her words sounded arrogant, but there was no actual disdain in her tone; she seemed to be simply stating a fact.
“If you go, I’ll only be distracted by having to look out for you.”
“Are you really going alone?” Cole’s voice was full of worry.
Eileen finally spoke, her voice still trembling. “So…”
At that moment, time seemed to stretch thin, and all surrounding noise faded into the distance. Flora only looked at Eileen, observing the complex mixture of worry, guilt, and faint hope in her eyes.
Flora paused for a moment, then added softly, “Don’t worry.”
“Yes, I’m enough on my own,” Flora replied quietly.
For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still.
Flora looked at her.
Then, she withdrew her gaze, no longer looking at Eileen’s face. She was afraid that if she took another look, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from saying more things she shouldn’t.
She turned and walked toward Ilya, who had been sitting quietly by the window.
Ilya had finished her glass of water and was placing the empty cup back on the table. She met Flora’s gaze without a word, giving only a very slight nod.
In those deep purple eyes, there was the same habitual calm, but also a nearly imperceptible trace of approval.
Flora read that look.
‘Go ahead, use your own discretion.’
She gave a small “Hm” in response, then turned and walked toward the restaurant entrance.
Her steps were steady, her back straight. Behind her was Ilya’s trust, the tense silence of Kaan and Cole, and Eileen’s gaze which followed her every move.
She pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Inside the restaurant, Eileen remained where she stood, staring at the slowly closing door. She didn’t know why she cared so much about this stranger’s departing figure.
They had only just met, and she didn’t even know the girl’s full name, yet she felt a strange sense of familiarity and warmth.
The door shut completely, breaking her line of sight.
Eileen kept her head down, her fingers clutching the edge of the tablecloth, refusing to let go for a long time.
***
Flora walked alone into the thick night, heading toward the old warehouse at the east end of town.
Each of her steps was firm, her skirt swaying with a rhythm that matched her pace. She knew what she had to do and what she couldn’t do; she knew what words to say tonight and what must remain unspoken.
Therefore, there was not a hint of hesitation in her stride.
The clearing at the east end of town wasn’t far now.
In the darkness, Flora spotted several tall silhouettes.
She looked at them first, coming to a halt. Her eyes held pure coldness and indifference. No anger was visible, for her rage was tucked away in her heart, waiting for the right moment.
Flora raised her right hand and gently brushed her ring.
A gentle and steady warmth seeped from the band into her skin, spreading slowly through her bloodline and dispelling the chill of the night wind.
Then, she lowered her hand and stepped out into the moonlit clearing.
Glen froze when he saw her, then craned his neck to peer behind her.
“Just you?” His eyes widened in disbelief.
“Yes, just me. Is there a problem?” Flora’s tone was dismissive.
Glen was momentarily choked up by her attitude, which quickly turned into explosive rage. “You—”
Flora didn’t give him time to continue.
She raised her left hand, palm down, and slightly curled her five fingers.
The temperature in the air plummeted, and Glen’s breath condensed into a small cloud of white mist.
His eyes went wide, but before he could react, three ice spikes suddenly erupted from the ground.
The ice spikes shot up directly from beside the feet of Glen’s four subordinates. Though only as thick as a finger, they were incredibly solid and sharp, precisely piercing toward the four men’s calves.
The four men hadn’t even realized what was happening before their calves were sliced.
The wounds were clean and narrow, just enough to impair their mobility without causing excessive damage. Even the positions of the wounds on all four men were nearly identical.
The four lackeys were stunned.
They had never heard of such precise Ice Element control. To control the damage so accurately while simultaneously striking the same spot on four different people…
Flora didn’t look at them.
She pulled back her left hand, letting it hang at her side, her fingertips still coated in a layer of frost that hadn’t yet dissipated.
“How did you—” Glen’s voice died in his throat from pure shock.
This girl was actually a Mage? And she had such precise control? She did it so effortlessly?
What kind of monster is this…
Before Glen could recover from the shock of her being a Mage, Flora was already in front of him.
It was unclear if she had walked or dashed, but she reached him in an instant, her skirt barely even fluttering.
Glen instinctively swung a punch, but just as his fist moved, his wrist was gripped tightly by a hand.
That hand was smaller than his and ice-cold, as if it had just been pulled from freezing water.
Glen tried to break free, but she didn’t budge.
Flora forced his wrist downward, then suddenly drove her knee straight into his elbow pit.
*Snap.*
“Ah—!”
The sound of the bone dislocating and his scream rang out almost simultaneously, though the former was quieter, completely muffled by the latter.
He dropped to his knees, his right arm hanging at a grotesque angle. His elbow joint was dislocated.
Cold frost began to spread from where Flora held his wrist, a thin layer crawling up his forearm toward his sleeve.
“So many years have passed, and you haven’t improved at all.” Flora let go of his hand and looked down at him.
Her voice was flat, as if she were merely stating a fact.
One of the lackeys nearby finally snapped out of it. He quickly pulled a dagger from behind his waist and circled to Flora’s side, looking for an opening before lunging forward with a stab.