Chapter 93: Venomous snake

Irina lowered her head and was silent for a long time, as if she were brewing something.

Then she raised her head, and her pink eyes were filled with tears.

“Those rumors… I didn’t spread them.”

Her voice trembled.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I really didn’t…”

Freya looked at her, at those tear-filled eyes, at that pitiful face.

“I know.”

Irina was stunned.

“You… you know?”

“You’re not the only one.”

Freya’s voice was very calm.

“You just gave them a push.”

Irina’s expression froze.

Freya looked at her, at that face that was beginning to change.

“Those words didn’t come from you. They came from someone else.

But why did those words spread? Why did they get worse and worse? Why, at that exact time, at that exact place, did they reach the ears of the people who needed to hear them?”

She paused.

“You know better than I do.”

Irina stood there, motionless.

The weakness and grievance on her face faded away bit by bit, revealing what lay beneath—

Not anger, not fear, but a kind of calm that came from being seen through, a calm that was almost candid.

“You’re very smart.”

She said, her voice suddenly changing. No longer trembling, no longer weak, only a heavy, deep calm.

Freya did not speak.

Irina looked at her for a long time.

“But smart people often don’t live long.”

She turned and walked into the twilight.

After a few steps, she suddenly stopped without looking back.

“Freya, you won’t win every time.”

Her figure disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Freya stood there, looking in that direction.

The wind blew, sweeping up a few fallen leaves, swirling around her feet.

She stood for a long time, then turned and continued toward the dormitory. Her steps were steady, as if nothing had happened.

When she reached the bottom of the dormitory building, she saw a white figure crouching on the steps.

Lyra was holding a bulging paper bag. When she saw Freya, she jumped up immediately.

“Boss! You’re back! I bought you honey cake! Fresh out of the oven! Still warm!”

She ran over, shoved the paper bag into Freya’s arms, her red eyes sparkling.

“Anke said this place is the best! I waited in line for a long time!”

Freya looked down at the paper bag. The warmth seeped through the paper into her palm.

“Thank you.”

Lyra grinned, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

“You’re welcome! Boss, let’s go up quickly. It’s almost dark!”

She wrapped her arms around Freya’s arm, rubbed against her, and pulled her up the stairs.

Freya didn’t pull her hand away. She followed her steps, climbing the stairs one by one.

When she reached the door, she looked back. Twilight was settling in. The distant sky was stained a deep purple, and the last remnants of sunset were disappearing.

She withdrew her gaze and pushed open the door.

—

That night, Freya had another dream.

In the dream, there was no Ross, no Irina, no Holy Sword or Evil God.

Only an endless white snowfield and a figure standing in the middle of it.

It was a wolf.

Its body was silver-white, and its red eyes were like two flames burning.

It stood in the wind and snow, looking up at the sky, letting out a long howl.

That sound pierced through the wind and snow, through the night, through the dream, landing on Freya’s heart.

She woke up.

The dormitory was very quiet. Lyra’s breathing was even and light.

Freya turned her head. Moonlight streamed in through the gap in the curtains, falling on Lyra’s face, gilding her white eyelashes with a silver edge.

She watched for a while, then closed her eyes.

Outside the window, the night wind had stopped.

The expelled student’s name was Karl.

He knelt before Irina, his knees hitting the cold floor tiles with a dull thud.

Tears streamed from his swollen eyes, sliding down his cheeks, dripping onto his old robe, which had been washed nearly white.

“Irina…

Irina, please help me…”

His voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.

“You know, those words weren’t made up by me. Someone told me…

I just…

I just casually said a few things…”

He looked up. At that moment, his young face was twisted almost beyond recognition—

Fear, despair, and a trace of unwilling anger intertwined, making him look like a cornered beast.

“My family sold everything they had to send me here…

My father sold our land to raise the tuition…

My mother is sick and doesn’t dare to see a doctor…

If they find out…”

His voice choked, and he couldn’t continue.

Irina stood before him, looking down at this kneeling young man.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling on her pink hair, on her gentle face, enveloping her entirely in a soft halo.

“Classmate Karl—”

She spoke, her voice as soft as a spring breeze.

“Please get up first. The floor is cold.”

She bent down and reached out her hand, as if to help him up.

Karl did not move. He just knelt there, looking up at her, his eyes full of pleading.

“Irina, you are the president of the Mutual Aid Society. Please help me…

Go talk to the Disciplinary Director, talk to the Principal…

I beg you…”

Irina’s hand stopped in midair. She looked at his tear-soaked face and was silent for a long time.

Then she sighed softly, withdrew her hand, and stood up straight.

“Classmate Karl…”

Her voice was still so gentle, gentle like a knife wrapped in honey.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help you.

It’s…

I can’t do anything either.”

Karl was stunned.

Irina turned and walked to the window, looking out at the heavy night.

The moonlight outlined her slender back. That back looked so fragile, so helpless.

“You also know that Classmate Freya’s grandfather is the Old Duke Dale.”

Her voice came from ahead, very light, with a tremor.

“He went to the palace in person to see the Emperor. The Emperor personally ordered an investigation.

Do you think…

What can I, a commoner student, do?”

Karl’s lips trembled. He wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Irina turned around and looked at him. Her pink eyes were full of sympathy and reluctance.

“I know you are innocent.

Those words weren’t first said by you. You just…

just echoed a few things.”

She paused, and her voice dropped a little lower.

“But now, who cares?

They need a scapegoat.”

Karl’s face turned pale.

His mouth was open, like a fish thrown onto the shore.

“Then… then I…”

Irina walked over, crouched down in front of him, and looked him in the eye.

Those pink eyes were close at hand, so gentle they made you want to cry.

“Classmate Karl, have you ever thought about—”

Her voice suddenly changed. No longer the weak and helpless tone from before, but a lighter, deeper voice, as if coming from a place far away.

“Who caused all this in the first place?”

Karl looked at her blankly.

Irina sighed softly.

“If it weren’t for Freya using her family’s influence to suppress the school, the school wouldn’t have expelled you.

The Disciplinary Director only wanted to give you a warning. But once Duke Dale went to the palace, everything changed.”

Her voice grew lighter, lighter than a feather, drifting beside Karl’s ear.

“In the end, it’s all because of Freya…”

Karl’s pupils slowly contracted.

He looked at Irina, at that gentle face so close, those pink eyes full of sympathy and pity.

He suddenly felt something burrow into his head, like a cold snake, slithering, leaving a sticky trail.

“If only…”

Irina’s voice was even lighter, light like a sigh.

“If only Freya didn’t exist.”

That sentence fell on Karl’s heart like a seed falling into soil.

His eyes slowly turned red—

Not the red of despair or helplessness from before, but a deeper, darker red.

Irina stood up, looked down at him for a long time.

Then she reached out and gently patted his shoulder.

“Go back and get some rest.

Don’t think too much.”

She paused.

“Some things can’t be rushed.”

Karl knelt on the ground, motionless. Irina no longer looked at him. She turned and walked toward the door.

When she reached the door, she stopped, without looking back.

“Oh, by the way—”

Her voice returned to its usual softness.

“Don’t tell anyone about me coming to see you today.

You know the situation. If people find out I’m associating with you…”

She didn’t finish, but the meaning was clear.

Karl knelt there, nodding woodenly.

The door closed behind Irina.

The room was left with only Karl, kneeling on the cold floor tiles, the moonlight shining on his pale face and his increasingly red eyes.

Irina walked out of that dormitory building. The night wind blew, carrying the chill of deep autumn.

She stood downstairs, looked up at the moon, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly into a curve.

That curve was very faint, so faint it was almost invisible.

But she smiled.

She turned and walked toward her own dormitory. After a few steps, she suddenly stopped, turned her head, and looked at the window glowing with light in the distance—

Freya’s dormitory.

That window emitted a warm orange light, standing out conspicuously in the heavy night.

Irina looked at that window for a long time.

“If only Freya didn’t exist.”

She repeated softly, her voice light as the night wind.

Then she turned and walked into the shadows.

In the dormitory, Freya sat at her desk, the desk lamp’s light falling on the page she was reading.

Lyra was lying on the floor mat, already asleep, her breathing even and light.

The Monster Bestiary was open beside her pillow, turned to the page on the Snowfield Wolf King.

Freya put down the book, stood up, and walked to the window.

She opened the window. The night wind blew in, carrying a hint of chill.

She looked out at the night, at the scattered lights in the distance.

She didn’t know what had just happened, nor did she know that a student named Karl was at that moment kneeling on the cold floor tiles, his eyes burning with a dark red flame.

She just stood there, looking at the moon.

“Boss?”

Lyra’s drowsy voice came from behind.

Freya turned around. Lyra was half-asleep, looking at her.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Right away.”

Lyra mumbled, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Freya watched her for a while, then gently closed the window and walked back to her bed.