Chapter 176

Finnian and Francis returned from their hunt with a wild rabbit, only to encounter Atlas and Sophia. Reluctantly, they turned back together.

As they arrived, the delicious smell of spicy food filled the air. They glanced toward the neighboring house and saw Freya grinding chili peppers, Selah washing fish, Stellan tending the fire, and Odalys cooking.

The table was piled high with dishes: fish head stew, spicy fish fillets, pickled peppers, steamed mushroom soup—everything looked mouthwatering, a feast for the eyes and nose.

"Time to eat!" Stellan called, bringing out bowls. Everyone sat at the stone table, shielding themselves from the scorching sun by sipping hot soup. But they noticed the others still standing outside, staring. Selah raised an eyebrow and asked, "Aren't you going to cook?"

"With all that food, do you think you'll finish it!" Atlas asked sarcastically.

Freya smirked, chewing on a piece of fish head. "If we can't finish, we'll heat it up later. Are you really so squeamish about leftovers!" Her teasing tone subtly jabbed at Atlas and Sophia's inability to cook.

"After all, we're not into dieting here," she continued, glancing at Sophia. "Sophia, you've lost quite a bit of weight. Are you okay?" Sophia's stomach growled loudly, and she forced a smile.

She realized she had indeed lost weight, and her hunger was becoming unbearable. She quickly turned away.

"We should go make something ourselves," Sophia suggested, avoiding the uncomfortable conversation.

Atlas, noticing the others had no intention of inviting them, cast Odalys a resentful look before turning to help. They lacked kitchen skills; their meals were usually prepared by parents or assistants, or, if out, managed by a manager or ordered as takeout. Cooking from scratch was a challenge, and after hours of struggling, they managed only a few mediocre dishes. They brought their creations to the table, but a mixed feeling of frustration settled in the air; no one was particularly excited. Looking at the others' food, a sense of envy arose.

"I'm so full. I'll probably have a little bellyache!" Freya said, rubbing her stomach. "My manager's going to kill me."

"Before she does, you should eat more!" Selah teased, enjoying Freya's predicament. Odalys, who had been silent, suddenly looked grim. Her expression darkened, and the playful atmosphere vanished.

"Odalys, what's wrong?" Freya asked, noticing the change in mood.

Odalys's gaze sharpened. "There's bloodshed in your future," she said in a low voice.

The air chilled. Everyone fell silent, staring at Odalys, their eyes widening.

"What! Me?" Freya asked, pointing to herself, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

Selah, equally unsettled, leaned forward. "What about me? Do I have it too?"

Odalys shook her head. "Only Freya. And it's connected to romance."

A deep sense of unease spread among them.

"Freya, wherever you go today, stay close to me," Odalys urged. "We have enough food, and we're not going anywhere today. You three stay close to me as well. Even though you're not directly involved in the bloodshed, we are a team, and you might still be affected."

Stellan stood up, concerned. "If it's related to romance and a man, that means it's me, right? I'm the only man here. I'll keep my distance, and it should be fine, right?"

Odalys's expression remained unchanged. "This has nothing to do with you. Stay close to Freya. If something happens, you'll be there to help."

Stellan, though unsettled, respected Odalys's authority and nodded.

Freya, frightened, stayed by Odalys's side, trembling. "Odalys, am I going to die?"

Odalys shook her head, but her eyes held concern. She gently poked Freya's forehead. "Don't be silly. It's just a small misfortune; you won't lose your life over it."

Her words were reassuring, but her worry couldn't be hidden. This was serious. Odalys drew blood from her finger, wrote a character on Freya's palm, and watched it fade.

"Remember, don't wash your hands today. Don't let it come into contact with water," Odalys warned sternly.

Freya nodded, clenching her fist. Selah rushed inside and returned with a bandage, tending to Odalys's finger.

The group sat in the courtyard, trying to stay calm under the oppressive midday sun. The shade from the trees offered some relief.

"Don't worry too much. Nothing serious will happen," Odalys tried to reassure them, though her own unease lingered.

Freya forced a smile. "How about we play some cards! I could use a distraction."

"Good thinking. Odalys, I see you brought some cards!" Freya said, dashing inside to grab the deck.

Selah, still uneasy, watched Freya. "Freya's trying to act casual, but I can tell she's really scared," she murmured.

Before anyone could respond, a piercing scream—Freya's—echoed from inside. Everyone sprang to their feet, rushing toward the sound. The door was locked, and Stellan couldn't budge it. Odalys kicked the door open.

Inside, Freya sat on the floor, her forehead bleeding, pale, and shaken.

"He ran," Freya stammered, pointing toward the window. "He ran out the window."

The group followed her gaze to the open window. They were shocked.

"I'll go check," Stellan said, anger hardening his face.

Before he could move, Odalys grabbed his arm.

"Don't go," she whispered urgently.

Stellan looked at her, scrutinizing. "Odalys, the person ran out the window. They must have jumped. It's not that high, but in a panic, their legs would have gone weak. They wouldn't have gotten far." He added, "If I go now, I should still be able to catch up."

Odalys gently released his arm. "Aside from us, the only people here are the villagers. Group A is busy cooking; the only ones hiding in the rooms are the villagers."