Inside the healing room, the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds.
Viola stared intently at Jeming with her silver-gray eyes wide open.
The expression on her face quickly shifted from astonishment to a sharp glow mixed with scrutiny, appraisal, and sudden realization.
She didn't ask, "Are you sure?" or "Do you have evidence?", nor did she show a hint of hesitant doubt.
"Ha!" She laughed sharply, her pitch rising with unusual excitement, "My junior is so amazing!"
She didn't need Jeming to provide any proof of the kill—for example, the Saint's identity badge, the remains of exclusive witchcraft artifacts, or fragments of soul marks.
Given her understanding of this junior who always brings "surprises", she knew he didn't need to lie about such things.
"Stay put!" Viola suddenly turned around and swept out of the healing room like a storm, leaving a sentence echoing in the air, "…This has to be known to the old man!"
