Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva

"Who are you, who are you? I am with the Leopard Head Gang. If you mess with us, surviving in the Northern Second District won't be easy," he said, his voice betraying an inexplicable fear in the presence of the cold ice black-haired girl, yet he still managed to finish his speech.

In response to his inquiry, the black-haired girl sitting on the chair didn't answer, only looking at him coldly, as if gazing down upon garbage.

Faced with this, the people tied on the ground made a few more threats, but still there was no response. The air seemed to fall silent as their voices grew quieter and weaker. The chill emanating from the girl seemed to spread deep into their souls, inducing a sensation of freezing from the inside out, even their consciousness began to grow stiff and blurry.

"Please... spare... spare me," at last, the leader couldn't hold back his fear and slowly knelt down, begging for a bit of mercy.

At first, Tilan had some questions she wanted to ask, but now that she was actually sitting there, her desire to interrogate slowly faded, leaving behind only a faint disgust.

What was the point of questioning? It was nothing more than lust or greed at play. Expecting moral integrity from such scum was practically impossible; they presumably didn't even understand the concept.

Therefore, she remained silent, and under the influence of her aura and mood, those around her also closed their mouths, just silently standing and watching the four enemies slowly reveal their true pathetic nature.

As time ticked by, and their consciousness began to stiffen, the black-haired girl finally spoke.

"Give me a reason to spare you. This is your last chance to stay alive," she said, and then fell silent again.

"I, I..." Seeing the girl slightly easing the pressure, the people who had been knelt on the ground gasped for air and struggled to get up.

By this time, nightfall had begun to set in, and unnoticed by those on the ground, several flames slowly floated over, surrounding everyone in the middle.

In the cold wilderness, those few orange flames became the only source of warmth, allowing the kneeling people to regain enough strength to speak. In front of them, the black-haired girl remained seated, her face, the hem of her skirt, and her expression wavering in the flicker of the flames.

She didn't offer extra words or pretentious acts. During the time she watched over them, she was as still as a statue, her astounding calmness and self-control instilling fear in those below.

"I can give you all my savings and money, just to redeem myself from the offense," the short-statured middle-aged man on the ground began to plead, seeing this as his most viable option.

Money? If it was a year ago, she indeed would have needed it, struggling to make ends meet, even hesitating over the purchase of snacks. But now, she no longer lacked these things. Even without support from Edith Academy, her Talent and the power of the Transcendent Sequence were enough to live well.

The girl's eyes slowly closed, as if mocking the man's ignorance and incurable predicament.

"I, I can cut off an arm to show my remorse. Please, I beg you, spare us," one of his underlings cried out in desperation.

In response to this, the black-haired girl remained unmoved, sitting in silence.

"I can swear, uh, swear..." he began to falter as he spoke about swearing, realizing how few would believe such an oath; he doubted he would even believe himself.

If a person with a good reputation and credibility faces a crisis, they might still trade their oath for a chance at survival. But those without credibility and a history of wrongdoing find themselves untrusted and unforgiven upon defeat and capture.

They tried to find words to claw back some semblance of hope for survival, but the reasons they gave were flimsy, and even they spoke without conviction.

Had she overestimated them? The black-haired girl slowly opened her eyes and then lifted her palm. A chilly air spread along the bodies of the four men, white frost creeping up their limbs, gradually encasing them in ice.

Quietude returned to the scene as she too stood up, no longer maintaining her previous seated posture.

"Huff, I think I've recovered a bit," Yalian said, clutching his chest and exhaling.

"Is this what the president looks like when she gets serious? It's terrifying," the others also commented with lingering fear. Perhaps because the black-haired girl was usually gentle and soft-spoken, it was easy to forget her formidable prowess.

Kinsenke approached the ice sculptures of the frozen men and tapped them carefully with his hand before he couldn't help but ask.

"Are they dead, or just temporarily frozen?"

On the other side, as Tilan prepared to get into the car to rest, she turned back upon hearing the question, "They are just temporarily frozen, but if they stay frozen too long, they will die."

After she climbed into the vehicle, prepared to catch up on some sleep, Deloris, who was inside, looked at the girl who had returned and curled up on the bed, tenderly stroking her hair and shoulders before getting ready to prepare some food, as it was already evening.

That night, everyone gathered again around the campfire for a meal, while the captives from earlier were tied up not far from the ice sculptures.

Gazing at Dragon Bro and his men frozen in ice, they were scared out of their wits, yet their hearts were filled with waves of both dread and relief. Even though their leader was gone, they had managed to survive.

...

Late into the night, Tilan stirred and sat up from the bed, rubbing her eyes. Noting the time, she remembered the men she had frozen. Slipping on her shoes, she stepped out of the vehicle.

Outside, only two people kept watch, Valke and Phyllis. Phyllis was flipping through an old book, which he had bought at the last supply station. It was said to be printed in the early days of the Jade Skirt era, telling stories from that time.