Is this surrender?

As expected, Yihan merely offered a strained smile and nodded in acknowledgment. He made no move to approach.

Carola took in his reaction, disappointment and frustration welling within her. She staggered to her feet, her voice clear and resolute despite her unsteady stance. "I must leave to report to the Guild. You’re coming with me."

"What about this town?"

Carola lowered her gaze, murmuring, "It might be destroyed..." Her voice trailed off. A wave of shame and self-reproach crashed over her, making it hard to meet the young man’s eyes.

Lia being a Witch wasn’t the real problem—Carola could have handled that alone. The true disaster was the Fallen Cult’s sudden, inexplicable interference. Even if that fat bastard had invited them, the situation had spiraled beyond her control.

No backup. No supplies. Injured. Her only ally was this ordinary boy—Yihan wasn’t even a Sorceress. Every disadvantage pressed down on Carola until fleeing seemed the only option.

All she could do now was pray Lia’s barrier would hold a few more days. Long enough for her to return with Guild reinforcements. Only then could more lives be saved.

She couldn’t explain all this to Yihan. Habit made her command him, determined to drag him away from this death trap.

But all she saw was him stepping backward.

"Where are you going?" Her voice cracked with rare panic.

"Back to Soul Valley Town." His reply drifted through the dry, cold air.

"Are you rushing to die?" Carola’s voice rose sharply, veins standing out on her slender neck. "They have the town guard *and* six Sorceresses waiting! What can one person do?"

Silence answered her. Yihan’s figure blurred in the snow’s glare, already fading like a ripple on water.

Carola stared after him, oblivious as her drape slipped to the ground.

*He left.*

*Really left. Just like that.*

She knew exactly what awaited him. She remembered the mayor’s snarling face. Returning now meant walking straight into his jaws—he’d tear Yihan apart.

And the Fallen Cult... Even Witch Hunters were tolerated more than those vermin. Their reputation was filth. Their methods, unspeakable.

Honestly? Carola would rather face the town guard’s torture than be dragged to a Fallen Cult camp. Who knew what horrors they’d unleash? Sacrificing him to some dark god wouldn’t surprise her.

*Idiot!*

She stamped her foot, sending up a spray of snow, face flushed with fury.

*Fine. Rot for all I care!*

She’d tried to save him. To give him a quiet life away from this hellhole. His stubbornness was his own fault now.

Let the guards kill him. Let the Cult sacrifice him. What did it matter? They were just strangers who met by chance. His death meant nothing.

The Witch Hunter snatched up her drape, clutching it like a lifeline as she spun away, stomping toward the opposite path. Each step crunched violently into the earth.

"Moron... brainless brute..."

"Is that Witch really worth dying for...?"

"Fool who can’t see the danger..."

Her curses faded as she crested the hillside. Her steps slowed. When the drape dragged limply in the snow, she stopped, staring blankly at the ground.

*He’s going to die. For sure.*

*Alone. In that frozen town. What a miserable end.*

With a furious cry, Carola hurled the drape down and whirled around. Lips pressed tight, eyes burning with resolve, she raced back the way she’d come.

*I’ll bury your body. Since you carried me halfway up this mountain.*

...

The closer Yihan got to Soul Valley Town, the more he darted from cover to cover, constantly shifting position. He couldn’t risk being spotted by hidden guards.

Just as he’d feared, the town’s defenses had tightened after their earlier chaos.

All thanks to the mayor and that Fallen Cult filth. The townsfolk remained clueless—unaware these smiling monsters planned an experiment that could level the entire valley.

He’d hoped they’d move Lia elsewhere to contain her power. But after hours of watching from the mountainside, nothing had left the town. They were proceeding right there.

Either the mayor didn’t care about his people’s lives, or the Cult was terrifyingly confident. Neither option boded well.

Yihan wiped sweat from his brow after circling the perimeter. Every entrance was guarded. Arrows would fly before he got close. The unguarded walls loomed too high to climb. Half an hour wasted.

Time was slipping away. He feared waking from this dream-moment and missing his chance.

*Should I charge in? Lure the guards deep into the mountains... But can I lose them alone?*

Without Carola, he was helpless.

A rustle came from the trees behind him. Yihan spun, pressing half his body against a thick trunk.

Human or beast?

*Had Carola changed her mind?*

Before he could guess, a figure emerged from the woods—glancing around nervously, even more tense than Yihan.

He froze.

A young girl. Poorly dressed. Thin. Likely underfed.

Recognition flickered. He’d seen her before—with Lia. There’d been a fight. One girl’s clothes had caught fire.

*What’s she doing outside the town? Looking for someone?*

Certain she was alone, Yihan stepped out from behind the tree, blocking her path.

Louise nearly bit her tongue. Her eyes widened, then softened with relief as she patted her chest. A flicker of reproach crossed her face.

Yihan cut straight to the point: "Are you looking for me?"

"Yes. For a long time." Louise didn’t hide it. Her usual sharpness vanished, replaced by obedient earnestness.

"What for?"

Her emotions surged. Ignoring their unfamiliarity, she seized his hand, voice shrill with desperation:

"Please. Help us escape this place."