The reason Edith chose such a conspicuous exit was that Tina Edith, fluent in Ancient Hermes, knew precisely what the phrase outside meant:
Mirrors in this area are sealed against jumping.
Before she escaped the area affected by that declaration, nothing could teleport between mirror surfaces.
Edith was deeply grateful she hadn't let her guard down just because the divined risk had been low when she'd come to find this traitor. She'd taken extra precautions precisely because of that reading — and without them, in a room with no windows, with Mirror Jump sealed, she'd have had very few options for escape.
In terms of raw destructive power, Witches were limited for a considerable stretch of their development.
Even with her quick reaction, the moment Edith burst out of the room, the overwhelming drowsiness hit her again.
This time, prepared, she immediately generated black flame and let it burn through her body.
Crack!"Mirrors in this area are sealed against entry!"
A second declaration — full of authority — and the sound of shattering glass rang out simultaneously, completely cutting off Edith's plan to use the Mirror World to escape.
Edith herself didn't yet have the ability to travel through the Mirror World — but under the church's increasingly intense crackdown, higher-ranking Witch cult members had provided her with items that granted similar abilities, albeit with limited uses.
Freed from the drowsiness by the pain of burning herself, Edith didn't lose her composure when her original plan collapsed. She moved rapidly in the direction opposite to the authoritative declaration's origin — as long as she could escape the sealed area before her mirror doubles were exhausted, she still had a chance.
This was part of what made Witches difficult to handle. Against supernatural abilities that weren't lethal but had immobilizing effects, a Witch could forcibly break free through self-harm — without making her condition worse in the process.
But she hadn't taken two steps before a red-gloved woman stepped into her path.
The overpowering exhaustion struck again. She burned herself free without hesitation and tried to change direction — only to find she was surrounded.
On both flanks, two more red-gloved Nighthawks closed in steadily. Behind her, a Watcher carrying a sword with a certain sense of solemn antiquity, alongside the silver-haired Cormac Terrence, closed the ring. At a slightly greater distance beyond the circle, three regular Nighthawks had their guns trained on her.
Looking at this seamlessly prepared formation, Edith's expression darkened completely. Understanding she was trapped with no way out, she asked with undisguised bewilderment:
"How did you catch that traitor so quickly?"
But it was only Ais, outside the circle, who answered:
"Simple — I walked into the church and turned myself in."
The Nighthawks had no interest in conversation. Terrence closed his eyes immediately and forcibly pulled Edith into a dream with his ability. The moment her movements became sluggish, his four teammates fired without hesitation.
When the sound of shattering glass came, another Watcher pulled Edith back into a dream — making her again a sitting target for the rest.
As the Church of the Evernight Goddess 's elite Nighthawks , Red Gloves had a Sequence 7 "Nightmare" as their minimum entry requirement — meaning every single one of them could forcibly drag anyone within a hundred meters into a dream, at the cost of their own ability to act.
Under this kind of encirclement, even a Witch with a mirror double couldn't retaliate — she could only delay the inevitable.
Crack!
One more mirror shattered. Out of doubles, Edith endured the agony of the shot to her head and still managed to taunt Ais:
"Even now, looking at you — I still can't help laughing!"
"Thinking about you never being able to laugh again — I can't help it either." Ais shot back immediately.
The Witch started to say something more. The Nighthawks didn't give her the chance. Terrence directed the spiritual entity to pull Edith down and hold her in place; the other four fired in disciplined sequence until she stopped moving entirely.
The whole thing moved so fast that Ais had no chance, after finishing her line, to send the woman off with a parting ice lance.
Looking at Edith — no longer breathing — Ais felt no great surge of satisfaction. She only found herself thinking, quietly:
"At least that woman is dead. Even if I died right now, I couldn't call it a loss."
"We owe you a genuine debt for drawing her out, Miss Ais. Without you, we couldn't have pursued her — finding her in the first place would have been far from certain."
Terrence walked over with a pleasant expression as Ais approached, ice lance in hand.
Ais hesitated a moment, then couldn't help asking:
"Mr. Terrence — if I could ask — when exactly did you get here?"
What she was really asking was why the Nighthawks hadn't simply acted immediately and had instead let her talk to that woman for as long as they had. Given that twisted final grin and the way Edith had been pressing closer and closer — Ais wasn't convinced the woman had simply wanted to chat about joining the cult.
Reading the meaning behind the question, Terrence explained with a slight awkwardness:
"I actually followed you from before midnight. When the Witch came to find you, we were already deploying the encirclement — we just needed a little more time to set it properly, to be safe."
Ais, who hadn't particularly been counting on an explanation, nodded. She suddenly realized she had no idea what to do next, and didn't seem to have anything to contribute.
The Red Glove carrying the solemn ancient-looking sword was walking carefully back, both hands on the hilt, blade pointing upward.
The other three red-gloved Nighthawks were methodically cleaning up any traces of the fight. The three regular Nighthawks who had escorted Ais back had already departed in different directions — none of them toward Saint Anjelka Cathedral.
Terrence stood before Edith's body. After some deliberation, he looked toward his one female teammate:
"Eleanor…"
But the moment his voice said her name, Eleanor shook her head — firmly, and with obvious resistance. Vigorously enough that her black ponytail swung from the left side of her face to the right.
Seeing this, Terrence had no choice but to turn to Ais, standing nearby with curiosity and speculation written all over her face, and explain:
"Eleanor's exceptional in every way — except for a severe case of mysophobia. Anything she considers unclean, like a Witch, she absolutely refuses to touch."
Just mysophobia, then?… Ais hadn't fully pieced together Terrence's intention and only nodded without moving.
It wasn't until Terrence continued to look at her without any sign of looking away that she finally asked:
"Me?"
Terrence answered with complete sincerity: "More appropriate than me."
Nothing comes for free… Ais let out a quiet sigh, started toward the body, and asked with inevitable curiosity:
"Mr. Terrence — if I hadn't been here today, what would you have done?"
Terrence considered this and answered:
"Waited until the others finished what they were doing, then everyone would watch together while it got handled."
What's the point of that?… Not quite understanding, Ais examined the body — still impressive in most respects, whatever else could be said. Following her inspiration's guidance, she quickly located a point of interest in the left breast pocket of the clothing. The repeated prompts signaled something unusual about what was inside.
Is this the item she used to create that fireball and blow the door open?
She was about to turn the pocket inside out, then thought better of it and asked Terrence:
"Sir — when handling an item with unusual abilities, is it safe as long as you don't touch it directly?"