CHAPTER 263: CHAPTER 263

When I finally opened my eyes, I was back home, sprawled on the bed where Macaron and Glacier must have dragged me. I bolted upright, a sharp groan escaping my lips as pain lanced through my body like a thousand needles.

The system appeared in front of me.

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Congratulations on Defending the Kraken’s tantrum!

Reward: Serenade of Daggers (Active Skill) will now be a Passive Skill! (Permanent)

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While I was happy about the upgrade, I couldn’t shake the worry lingering in my mind. Gritting my teeth, I shuffled to the bedroom, peeling off my uniform-soaked clothes and slipping into something fresh—loose shirt, a coat and jeans. No time to waste; I had to get to the hospital.

I was about to go out when Macaron and Glacier insisted that they’ll come with me, worried that I’ll faint again so I let them follow me as we made our way through the bustling streets.

At the hospital, I lingered just long enough to steal a quick peek into Angela’s room, where Whitney was sitting there and talking with Angela. Then I slipped over to Cypher’s room and peeked inside, the boys were there. I wanted to say goodbye one last time but it was better this way. Instead, I clutched the pastries I’d bought for them and retreated to the rooftop, watching the sunset as I sat down to eat alone, the treats tasting like ash in my mouth.

Unbeknownst to me, the coat I’d been wearing, the one with the dropout form tucked securely in its pocket, had slipped away, tumbled to the floor and slid unnoticed into Cypher’s room.

"Remillia," a voice called from behind me.

I was mid-bite on another donut, the sugary glaze sticking to my fingers, when I froze, my pulse spiking. "Leave," I muttered, not daring to turn around. Glacier, whipped his head around and let out a low, menacing growl, rising to his feet and positioning himself between me and the intruder.

"Remillia, don’t cower behind that pet of yours and face me!" she demanded, her tone laced with venom.

I sighed deeply and set the box of pastries aside on the ledge. With a gentle pat on Glacier’s side, I murmured, "Stand down, boy." He hesitated, his growl fading into a reluctant huff, before settling back beside Macaron. Finally, I turned to face her, steeling myself against the inevitable.

"Angela," I greeted, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside.

"I wanted to ask you something," she said, her breath coming in short, ragged pants, as if she’d sprinted up the stairs just to corner me. "Do you have a tattoo on your chest?"

The grave atmosphere hung between us and her question made me freeze. I needed more time, time to tell the truth into something she could bear. But she wasn’t going to grant me that luxury.

She locked eyes with me, her gaze piercing. "Answer me," she demanded.

I stayed silent, my throat tight, words lodged like stones.

"Why won’t you answer me?!" she exploded, and before I could react, she charged forward, slamming into me with a force that knocked the air from my lungs.

The impact was brutal—her body colliding with mine reopened the wounds I’d fought so hard to ignore, a fresh burst of agony ripping through my side like fire. I gasped, stumbling back as she grabbed the hem of my shirt, her fingers clawing desperately, trying to yank it up and expose whatever secrets lay beneath.

"Stop that!" I cried, my hands flying to hers, shoving against her grip with all the strength I could muster, the fabric tearing slightly under the strain. My heart raced as a mix of pain and panic flooding my veins as I fought to hold her off, the rooftop spinning in my blurred vision.

"Just let me see!" Angela insisted, her voice cracking with desperation, but as my blood smeared across her hands, she trembled, her resolve wavering for a split second. Still, she pressed on, her fingers digging in like claws, refusing to relent.

Without the Spectral Seal’s power giving me magic power, I was no match for her raw physical strength, my injured body was fragile against her fury. I was planning to let her do what she wants but the pain was unbearable, I can’t hold it in anymore and in a moment of instinct, I unconsciously activated my Spectral Seal. I lightly pushed her away, just enough to create space. "I said stop!" I shouted, my voice hoarse and strained.

But even as I shoved, her hand snagged my collar, yanking me closer. Her eyes drifted downward, locking onto the spot just above my chest where the Spectral Seal pulsed with a faint glow.

She let out a sarcastic laugh, bitter and hollow. "What secrets are you hiding more?"

I didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. My brain had short-circuited, frozen in a haze of shock and guilt, leaving me to stare at her blankly, my mouth dry and words failing.

Her eyes shook with a fierce, uncontrollable tremor. "Are you dropping out because you completed your mission? Tell me, what kind of society or organization did you join?"

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, as I stood there, paralyzed.

"I treated you like a sister, so tell me!" Angela shouted, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. She grabbed my shoulders with a grip that felt like it could crush bone, shaking me violently, her sobs wracking her body. "Why... Why did you kill my brother...? He was the kindest soul that I’ve ever met, so why...?"

My heart plummeted, a cold dread sinking into my core. ’Is that why she wanted to see my Spectral Seal? How did she know? How did she connect it to the murder?’

"Please tell me it’s not you, right?" she cried, her voice pleading as she choked with anguish. "My brother was so kind and caring towards you—more than anyone else. He was always expecting you to visit whenever I came first, so please... tell me it’s not you." Her tears fell faster, soaking into my shirt as she clung to me.

I wanted to console her but I can’t even pat her back.

"Someone... someone might have framed you. Yes, that must be it. In the first place, you have no motive... why would you...." she said.

However, I couldn’t lie. A lie that could easily be proven wrong, a lie that she already knew was wrong, I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.

"But why... why aren’t you saying anything?" she tightened her grip on my shoulders. Her pupils were already empty. "Just say it. Just say that you didn’t do it!"

Angela’s body went limp before she could hear my answer, her eyes fluttering shut as she slumped forward, the fight draining out of her. Someone from behind us moved swiftly, catching her with careful arms before she could hit the ground.

"Whitney," I greeted her, the rooftop suddenly feeling smaller.

She gave me a curt nod, her expression unreadable in the dim light. "I’ll take care of her."

"Have you known too?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop myself.

Whitney paused, her back still turned, but she didn’t look back. "Yeah, but you don’t have to worry. Your secret’s safe with me."

"Sorry," was all I could manage, the apology hanging in the air.

She glanced over her shoulder then, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of disbelief and resignation. "I didn’t believe it either. No, I couldn’t believe it. That you killed him. How you killed him—whether you had accomplices or did it alone—I just didn’t have any information. And to my knowledge, killing Raphael Forbes was impossible for just one person to accomplish." Her gaze swept over me, lingering on Macaron and Glacier, who glared at her with wary intensity. "But looking at you now... it must be true."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a probing whisper. "So why did you do it, Remillia?"

"Why did you kill him?"

"Was it for revenge?"

"Was it a mission?"

"Who ordered you to kill him?"

I clenched my teeth, the questions stabbing like knives, but no answers came.

The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, until Whitney’s frustration boiled over. She turned away again, her shoulders tense. "Let the doctors here check your wounds first before you leave." Then, with a final glance, she added, "Oh, and by the way, not saying goodbye to the friends who were by your side? That’s a pathetic move, Remillia."

"Whitney," I called after her, my voice cracking. "Please tell them I’m sorry for leaving."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Whitney hesitated, her hand instinctively tightening on Angela’s limp, unconscious form, the weight of her friend a grounding force amid the chaos. She glanced back over her shoulder, expecting to see Remillia standing there.

But instead, her eyes widened in shock. Remillia was tumbling backward off the edge of the rooftop, her body arching in a perilous fall. Before she could hit the ground, Macaron transformed, his form swelling into something larger, his wings unfurling like sails in the wind. He swooped beneath her, catching her mid-air with surprising grace, cradling her as he soared into the night sky, disappearing into the veil of darkness.

Just then, the rooftop door burst open with a violent kick, the hinges groaning in protest, and in stormed Rex, Christian, and Edge, their faces flushed and panting, sweat beading on their brows from the frantic climb.

"Where is she?!" Rex demanded, his voice a thunderclap in the stillness.

"Witch, where are you?!" Christian called out, scanning the rooftop wildly.

"Where’s that damn girl?!" Edge added, his eyes darting around, fists clenched.

"She’s already gone," Whitney said, her tone flat, masking the turmoil churning inside her.

"What? Why didn’t you tell us she was here all along?" Rex shot back, frustration etching lines into his face.

"Either way, we can’t talk to her now—she just escaped, flying off on Macaron," Whitney explained, gesturing vaguely toward the sky. "Let’s just go back."

"What? Are we gonna just let her go like that?" Christian protested, his voice rising in disbelief.

"Don’t worry," Whitney replied, a hint of resolve in her eyes. "We’ll definitely meet her again... but not now."

"Did she say something?" Rex pressed quickly, leaning in closer.

"Let’s go back first," Whitney deflected, turning toward the stairs as they began their descent.

"By the way, have any of you seen Cypher? I still can’t find him," Christian asked, glancing around as if expecting him to suddenly appear.

"Ignore him," Edge muttered, waving it off. "He’ll come back when he knows that witch is gone already."

Meanwhile, just behind the rooftop stairs, Cypher crouched in the shadows, his back pressed against the cold wall, every word of the commotion echoing in his ears. He had heard it all, from the moment Angela appeared to the moment their friends appeared. His fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically, knuckles whitening with the force, as doubt and betrayal twisted in his gut. ’Did Remillia really kill a person?’ The question burned in his mind.