Chapter 163

Chapter 163

The redhead chuckled lightly at this, her laughter crisp but with a cold edge: "Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ve stirred up quite a commotion in the Black Street, you kill people and think you can just walk away?"

She took a step forward, and her aura surged even stronger. Evan and his two companions instantly felt as if invisible hands were gripping their throats, their breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The Black Street residents hiding in the shadows were already trembling in fear; some even collapsed to the ground, lacking the courage to lift their heads.

Louis’s face turned red as he tried to retort, but he found he barely had the strength to speak. Ista bit his lip hard, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, yet he refused to give up resistance, his gaze fixed firmly on the redhead. Evan took a deep breath, forcibly mobilizing the remnants of his Supernatural Factor, aiming his exorcism pistol at the redhead, his eyes full of vigilance: "We were on an academy mission to clear out bandits. What’s wrong with that?"

The redhead watched Evan’s actions, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes: "Carrying out a mission? You’re quick with the excuses. But..." She shifted her tone, and the oppressive pressure around her suddenly lessened, "Considering you’re young and already this strong, I’ll let you off the hook today. But if you cause trouble in Black Street again, you won’t be so lucky."

With that, she turned and walked back toward the dark alley, her steps still unhurried. Her red hair traced an elegant arc through the air before quickly merging back into the darkness, leaving only a faint scent of perfume lingering in the blood-soaked alley.

Only after her aura had completely vanished did Evan and the others collapse to the ground in relief, gasping for air, their clothes soaked through with cold sweat. The brief confrontation of just a few minutes had been more mentally draining than a fierce battle. The sheer terror of a Sequence 7 powerhouse was now deeply etched into their minds.

"Was... was that a Sequence 7 powerhouse?" Louis’s voice was trembling, his face full of lingering fear. "That was terrifying... I couldn’t even move just now..."

Ista nodded, his face still pale: "Yeah, that aura... definitely Sequence 7. We’re lucky to have made it out of here alive today."

Evan clenched his exorcism pistol, a glint of determination flashing in his eyes: "Sequence 7... One day, I’ll reach that level too."

He stood up, helping Louis and Ista to their feet. "Let’s get out of here. It’s not safe to stay. That commotion might have drawn others."

The three quickly made their way out of the alley. The shadows of the Black Street stretched behind them, and the oppressive feeling from the redhead had given them a deeper understanding of what it meant to be "strong," fueling their desire to grow even more powerful.

Evan, Louis, and Ista left the blood-soaked, grim Black Street and set off back toward the Imperial Knight Academy. Along the way, they spoke little. The oppressive confrontation with the Sequence 7 redhead, coupled with the exhaustion from the battle, had left them physically and mentally drained. It wasn’t until they saw the academy’s iconic stone gate that their taut nerves began to relax.

Upon returning to the academy, they immediately headed to the mission registration office to turn in their task. The same white-haired old knight was on duty. Seeing the three covered in wounds and bloodstained clothes, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but he didn’t ask questions. He simply took the mission completion report they handed over—a detailed account of the battle location, process, and the deaths of the targets. After carefully checking it, he made a note in the register and said, "The mission details will be verified by the academy’s patrol knights at the Black Street. Just wait one day, and once it’s confirmed, you can come collect your reward."

"Understood, thank you," Evan replied, his voice still a bit hoarse.

After wrapping up the mission formalities, the three parted ways to tend to their injuries and rest.

Louis clutched the wound on his chest, grimacing: "I need to get to the school clinic right away. If this wound isn’t bandaged soon, it’ll probably get infected. Tomorrow, after I collect the reward, I’m going to treat myself to a good meal!" With that, he hurried off toward the clinic.

Ista rubbed his swollen shoulder and said to Evan, "I’ll go back to the dorm and use some healing ointment. You should treat your wound and get some rest too." His face was still pale, but his eyes had regained their usual determination. He turned and left.

Only Evan remained. Instead of going to the clinic or back to his dorm, he headed toward the library. The graze on his arm still ached faintly, but he was more eager to find a quiet place to calm his mind and see if the person who always waited for him on the third floor of the library was there.

Soon, Evan arrived at the library entrance. Pushing open the door, the familiar scent of books washed over him, instantly soothing his tense nerves. He climbed the spiral staircase to the third floor, wondering what scene awaited him today.

But when he stepped onto the third floor, he froze—the scene before him was completely different from before. Where rare books had once been displayed, there now stood a massive wall of flowers!

The flower wall was built on a dark wooden frame, covered in climbing roses of every color—delicate pink, vibrant red, pure white, bright yellow—all blooming in full glory. Their petals glistened with dewdrops, sparkling under the sunlight streaming through the glass dome. A gentle breeze made the roses sway, releasing a sweet, refreshing fragrance that mingled with the library’s bookish scent, creating a unique and enchanting atmosphere.

Evan stood still, his gaze captivated by the flower wall. He had never imagined that such a vibrant, beautiful wall of flowers could appear in the book-filled third floor of the library. He stepped forward slowly, reaching out to gently touch a pink rose petal. Its soft texture instantly softened the tense strings of his heart, still taut from the battle.

Evan’s gaze shifted from the dazzling flower wall as he instinctively looked around, searching for the familiar figure. Then, his eyes landed on the right side of the flower wall—a small white stone table stood there, its surface spotless, its edges carved with delicate vine patterns that complemented the surrounding rose wall. Beside the table were two woven rattan lounge chairs, their cushions covered in soft, cream-colored velvet. Sunlight streamed through the glass dome, warming them invitingly, making anyone want to lie down immediately.

But what truly warmed Evan’s heart was what lay on the stone table. On the left side were neatly arranged several bottles of medicine: a green herbal ointment, a clear bottle of hemostatic liquid, and a small jar of white anti-inflammatory powder. Each bottle had a handwritten label clearly indicating the usage and dosage, the handwriting unmistakably Sara’s neat script. Beside the ointments lay a stack of clean gauze and several rolls of white bandages, the gauze folded neatly, with a small piece of tape attached to the end of the bandages for easy fastening.

On the right side of the table, a delicate white porcelain plate held a cherry cupcake. The cake was topped with a layer of light pink cream, adorned with a few fresh, plump cherries, their red contrasting beautifully with the pink cream, looking incredibly tempting. Next to the plate were a small silver fork and a folded note. Evan picked up the note and unfolded it, seeing the familiar handwriting again: "Apply the ointment to the wound first, then wrap it with gauze. Don’t skip the steps. The cake is a new item from Sweetheart Bakery. It won’t be as good if it sits too long, so be sure to eat it."