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The Devil WithInn 244 Who Is She? 3

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"Oof!"

The woman had her breath knocked out of her as she was enveloped in a tight hug.

"You're awake!"

She heard a loud manly voice that held childish excitement beside her ear as the shadow hugged her tighter.

Tensing up at the unfamiliar contact, she instinctively tried to get herself free from his hug. She raised her leg and tried to aim for his crotch to immobilize him but the man was able to quickly block her attack by simply grabbing her foot.

"Now, now, what is the meaning of this?"

Raghnall stared at her raised leg in confusion as he tried to create distance between his crotch and the scary killing machine in front of him.

He was about to crack a joke about her strange action when suddenly, he felt a sharp distortion of air by his stomach that made his arm react instinctively.

And just in time, he was able to easily block the woman's strong punch that was aimed towards his stomach. And sadly to her surprise, he was able to softly move her hand away despite the fact that she was using nearly all her strength to move her hand.

"Okay, now you're really acting strange. What's with all this animosity?"

Raghnall furrowed his brows as he tried to look at her for an explanation but what reflected back towards him was not the usual playful glint in Inna's eyes, instead, it was the eyes of a cornered beast. It was as if she was looking at him as though he was a dangerous person.

"Inna?"

Raghnall was about to draw close to touch her when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't."

Solomon muttered as he narrowed his eyes at the woman before him.

"She's not her."
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Raghnall's heap whipped towards the direction of Solomon as he looked at him with disbelief.

"Wh-what do you mean she's not her?! Look at her! She's obviously Inna!"

Solomon furrowed his brows at the blatant disrespect coming from Raghnall but he knew better than to reprimand him at this time.

He knew he cared far too much for Inna to mind his manners, after all.

"I'm quite not sure as to why this happened but one thing I'm sure of is that she's not her. She speaks of Eridoan in the Edserian tongue."

Raghnall's disbelief didn't die down at all as he continued to gaze at Solomon while making sure that he kept his eye on the woman before him as well.


"Edserian tongue?"

Solomon nodded and he gestured at Raghnall for him to test it for himself.

Raghnall got the hint and proceeded to do so while trying to calm the wariness of the woman.

"Khut rhink marku ghanri drista?"

The woman furrowed her brows and a.s.sumed her original fighting stance when she heard the familiar accent of the Anemolian n.o.bility. She had enough run-ins with those greedy n.o.bles and her experiences with them weren't something she would have fun recalling. But she had never met someone who could switch from the Edserian tongue to the Anemolian tongue so quickly and fluently as well.

"Why can you speak both tongues?! Who are you all?!"

The woman cried out as she tightened her fists, bracing herself to attack at any moment.

Meanwhile, opposite to her reaction, the three people in the room all looked at each other in confusion.

"Wait... Tell me, at this moment, do you hear us speaking of the Anemolian tongue? Or is it of the Edserian tongue?"

The woman found Solomon's question strange but she still answered nonetheless.

"Edserian. Like how a villager speaks to a vendor at a local marketplace. Only locals who lived for years in rural places would know of such tongue. And since I have lived for years in Tarnil, I can speak it as well so I know I'm not mistaken."

Solomon's confusion deepened in immeasurable amounts as he scratched his head.

"Believe me, child, when I say that I have never, in my life, lived in a rural place in Edseria for even more than a week. Sure I visit at times when need be, but never long enough to learn of the tongue. The same goes for the two people in this room. They both have never stayed at any Edserian villages enough to actually learn of their language. In fact, right now, we are speaking to you in the Anemolian tongue, and you are replying to us in it as well."

The woman grew more confused at the situation she was in. She could've sworn that they were speaking to her in the same tongue she herself was speaking, but why is it as though they claim it as different?

But before she could try to even find an answer to her question, the doors of the room once again bursted open and another man barged into the room with worry in his eyes.

"Boy! I told you not to run around in this place! This isn't your house! This is the Headmaster's own manor, for goodness sake! Don't just bolt off somewhe--"

Ulima cut his ranting mid-way when he realized that everyone's eyes inside the room were now on him.

Even the Headmaster's...

"I… uh… I deeply apologize f-for…"

But before he could figure out what to say, he saw Raghnall by Solomon's side and he couldn't help but spurt out what he was thinking instead.

"Young man! Show some manners! You are in the presence of the Headmaster of the Academy you are studying in! Don't be rude and just barge into the room! You have to pay proper respects!"

Ulima cried out, expecting Raghnall to realize the proper ways of the world and apologize. But instead, Raghnall just ended up looking at him with an amused gaze.

"I think that applies to you as well? You are in the presence of the Headmaster of the Academy you are working in. Don't be rude and just barge into the room. You have to pay proper respects."

Realizing that Raghnall was throwing nearly the exact same words, Ulima gritted his teeth in frustration.

He was tasked to babysit this troublemaker for the three days that girl was out. He wouldn't have done it if it weren't upon the Headmaster's request.

But he's nearly had enough of his irritating ways! Every day was nearly a living h.e.l.l for him! Not only did the kid pull pranks on him every hour of every day, the kid even would pick fights with other students just to kill time!

He knew that the kid was deadly worried whether that crazy girl would live or not but his way of distracting himself from his worry-filled thoughts might even make more corpses!

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