Soon, under Earl Vladimir's orders, the Eagle's Perch Kingdom army retreated like a receding tide. The oppressive air gradually faded, leaving only the stench of blood and scorched ash lingering as a reminder of the disaster that had just taken place.
Standing calmly where she was, Ivette waited until she was sure they had all gone far away. Then she turned and saw Aimon being helped to his feet by several newly freed militiamen. He looked at her with an extremely complicated expression—gratitude and confusion intertwined, though shock and awe were strongest of all.
Unlike the villagers, most of whom were ordinary people without even a Mana Core, Aimon knew that novice mages and Intermediate Mages were not remotely the same.
But Aimon was an Intermediate Magic Swordsman, and Earl Vladimir had just beaten him senseless. Seeing the earl kicked away like a stray dog at the roadside horrified him more than anyone. He could not help wondering: if he had taken that kick, would he have simply died on the spot?
How could someone so powerful have been living in the village all this time?
Who was she, really, and what exactly did she want?
Could she really be a Witch?
He stood frozen in place as thoughts swept through his mind like a storm. The girl before him seemed shrouded in layer after layer of mist, making her all the more mysterious. When Ivette approached, he took a deep breath and said solemnly and sincerely, "Miss Rochivia, thank you for saving the village. If you had not stepped in, we truly would not have known what to do—"
"No need to thank me. They were simply too noisy, and besides, you are Lucia's father," Ivette said.
Aimon froze slightly, immediately realizing something. A trace of relief rose in