Yihan stared at her in surprise, blurting out, "Why?"

Lia’s gaze was unwavering. Though kneeling at his feet, her tone brooked no argument—as if she looked down on Yihan from above, leaving him no room to refuse.

"The Witch Hunters won’t let me go so easily. Before they gather enough forces, we must slip away quietly. Somewhere no one can find us. Then we’ll never be parted again."

As she spoke, she gently swayed his hand. The small gesture carried a hint of coquettish pleading.

Yihan fell silent. He averted his gaze to the modest yet tidy kitchen, torn.

Leaving meant abandoning this villa, this garden. Starting over in a strange land. It meant losing his comfortable home, the lovely yard, his stable job, and warm neighborly bonds. Though a beautiful woman would now share his life, the thought of rebuilding from zero felt unbearable.

"Why assume the Witch Hunters won’t spare you?" Yihan murmured, still not meeting her eyes. "If no fight breaks out, many things can still be avoided. What if Carola returns with her team? Could I plead for her to let you go?"

"If Witch Hunters yielded so easily," Lia sighed, "their guild would have no reason to exist." Her words held no anxiety for herself. She seemed far more concerned with making Yihan accept one truth: peace between them was impossible.

Her smooth, soft hand crept onto his. Slowly, it traced his forearm upward. Her eyes softened; her voice turned tender. A faint smile played on her lips. "I know you care for me. But your idea is dangerous. To them, we Witches can’t be spared. They fear our power might spiral out of control at any moment. For centuries, they’ve hunted us without pause."

"Under that prejudice," she continued, "anyone who speaks kindly to a Witch becomes an accomplice. I’m touched you’d stand for me. But I swear—they’ll hurt you for it."

"I won’t let that happen."

At her words, Carola’s face flashed in Yihan’s mind. He longed to confront her: *Must you exterminate every Witch?* To Carola, Lia might be no different from the Cataclysm Witch who destroyed her hometown—both unforgivable. Five years of sealing her away was mercy enough. She’d never understand his heart.

If Lia spoke true... what then, when Carola’s team arrived? He had no ground to stand on—neither to stop Lia’s fury nor to plead with Carola for peace.

"Lia, there’s something I don’t understand..."

"Hmm?"

"You suggest we flee now. Hide where no one knows us. To escape the Witch Hunters?"

"Mm. Just temporarily. Once we find safer ground, we’ll move again."

"But how can you be certain they won’t track us down?" Yihan’s gaze dropped, locking onto her emerald eyes. He searched them intently, trying to pierce her true intent.

A flaw had just struck him. If the Witch Hunters truly wouldn’t let her go... wouldn’t they chase her to the ends of the earth? Running seemed pointless. Why exhaust themselves fleeing what would inevitably find them?

*Had she been so fixated on safety she’d missed the core problem?*

Lia remained calm. No surprise, no agreement. Only her deep, fathomless eyes made Yihan’s skin prickle—like bottomless whirlpools hiding tangled emotions.

After a long pause, she gave a slight nod. "I’ve considered that. I believe... it won’t be an issue."

Yihan frowned. *Are you joking?*

"If we leave now," she explained, "the understaffed Witch Hunters won’t dare follow. They’ll fear my ambush and keep their distance. Our chances of slipping away will be high."

"Secondly, the Papal State commands the Witch Hunters. And their stance toward me is... ambiguous. Some factions push to expel me. Others prefer to wait and see. My past destruction cost them dearly. They won’t risk more losses lightly."

"So I think—if we vanish and live quietly, if I never lose control or cause harm again... soon, they’ll forget us. The Witch Hunters will stop hunting."

"Can you truly control your power now?" Hope flickered in Yihan’s voice.

Lia smiled—a bewitching, beautiful curve. Her eyes deepened, swirling with unspoken feelings. "I won’t lose control again."

*Truly wonderful news!*

Yihan wanted to rush this to Carola, to make her call off the hunt. But Lia refused, insisting Carola would never believe it. They debated, neither swaying the other.

Yihan clung to any hope of staying. He loved this villa, this garden, his bakery job. He dreamed of building a quiet, warm home here—with her.

Yet no matter how he pleaded, she insisted on leaving. Her constant talk of flight drained him. *Carola’s shadow runs deep in her heart.*

Work time neared. Yihan couldn’t linger. He grabbed bread and cheese from the cupboard for a quick breakfast. "Go tidy your room," he told her. "Dress properly." Then he headed out.

Unlike his usual solitary departure, this time he turned at the door like a man in a drama—energetic, purposeful. "I’m off."

Lia didn’t reply with "Be careful." She only smiled, watching him leave. Her pale hand lifted, waving softly at his retreating back.

The moment Yihan stepped beyond the gate, the wooden door closed. It cut off his figure, severed her gaze. The woman’s warm smile twisted into something vicious and grotesque. Her hand dropped. Unconsciously, it clenched into a trembling fist.

*So stubborn. No matter how I urge him, he refuses to leave. Truly a headache.*

She couldn’t force him—not with Witch Hunters lurking nearby. Carola wasn’t easily fooled. She likely watched from the shadows even now, distrustful.

And force would shatter Yihan’s trust. Gaining his guardless closeness again would become impossible...

*Heh. Such a bother...*

Her fingers stroked her smooth cheek. The smile bloomed again—like a poppy: breathtakingly beautiful, lethally alluring.