In the face of insurmountable danger, Lily's decisions came back to haunt her. The mendicar's earlier resolve, driven by a compulsion to heal, now seemed a reckless gamble against an adversary far beyond her means of confrontation. She should’ve stopped when everyone around threw incredulous stares – a clear indication of the madness of her actions. Had she truly believed the witch would overlook her efforts to heal those who stood against her? It was a naive oversight, aggravated by her lack of any means of defense. Now, it seemed, she was about to face the consequences, hopelessly unprepared.

Wearing a sinister smile, the witch continued advancing towards Lily. A fleeting glance towards the envoy, seeking any strand of hope, revealed only his grim condition. ‘Health sense' painted a dire picture: the dark mist had breached his fire mana defenses and now was corrupting his organs. Despite the slow pace of corruption compared to the others, the signs of reaching his limits were unmistakable – red warnings bloomed across his head, limbs, and torso. Under normal circumstances, Lily could have easily nursed the envoy back to health, his fire mana empowerment promising a swift recovery. But the witch's presence complicated matters immensely.

"I beg your pardon, my lady," Lily mustered the politeness, her voice barely hiding her terror. The witch advanced, and Lily retreated, her gaze fixed on the ground, too afraid to meet those ominous eyes.

Unfortunately, escape was a luxury she couldn't afford. The witch controlled the dark mist to circle Lily, sealing her fate. The thick and troubling mist was only partially visible. The true menace, a sea of death mana, remained unseen to the common eye. Under her skill, attuned to the delicate streams of life mana, a sinister dance of death energy unraveled around her.

"Please," Lily's plea was a whisper of desperation. "I'm not with the watch; I was forced into aiding them." It was a feeble attempt to sway the witch's intentions, yet what choice did she have?

The witch's response was a chilling smile that stretched wider, her amusement obvious in the face of Lily's fear. Legs trembling, Lily found her back against an unseen barrier, her retreat cut off. She braced herself, finally lifting her eyes to confront the witch.

"You are quite the intriguing creature," the witch remarked, her voice marked with dark curiosity as she reached out, her fingers cold and unnatural against Lily's skin. Lily recoiled, eyes shut tight, attempting to dodge the cold touch, but the icy fingers brushed her cheek regardless.

"How are you evading my nebula?" the witch inquired with a playful lilt, her fingers tracing Lily's face invasively. Her tone took on a harsh edge as she firmly grasped Lily's chin, compelling the healer to meet her gaze directly.

Overwhelmed by fear and the weight of the situation, Lily struggled to form words. "I... I..."

"Are you one of us, young one?" The witch's voice softened, carrying speculation rather than expectation of an answer. Her eyes ignited with a newfound interest, her smile reappearing. "Such a masterful guise! A servant of the darkness cloaked in the garb of a healer. In my long years wandering through the dark, I've yet to encounter such a bold and youthful kin," she mused aloud.

As the witch spoke, Lily felt the death mana probing her, an invasive force clashing against her skin. However, the life mana within her rose to the challenge, repelling the invasion at the cost of her own mana reserves.

"But how have you concealed your essence? You do not bear the scent of death. Rather, you exude a freshness, vibrant and full of life, like that of a newborn. You..." The witch's hands continued their exploration, moving to Lily's shoulders and chest, leaving Lily feeling exposed and vulnerable. Paralyzed, the mendicar found herself unable to resist or even flinch. "You are no witch!" the witch exclaimed suddenly, stepping back in realization.

The dark mist around them began to swirl with greater viciousness, but Lily, now forced to confront her captor head-on, was too engrossed to notice. For the first time, she scrutinized the witch closely. Before, fear had prevented her from looking too closely, but now, in such proximity, she couldn't help but examine the other party. What she saw was startling, completely overturning her initial guesses. Lily didn't even know where to begin in reassessing the woman before her.

Witches, often the subject of scary tales, were entities Lily – and likely most – had never truly considered beyond the scope of stories and warnings. The Watch and the Council's lack of transparency only added layers of mystery. From the moment the woman had emerged, wreathed in dark mana, Lily had assumed she was merely a mage wielding death mana.

But as Lily scrutinized the witch up close, the absence of a mana spring within the woman's head or a mana heart in her chest puzzled her deeply. Common knowledge preached that such power sources were essential for wielding mana. Yet, here stood the witch, devoid of both, challenging everything Lily knew about mana manipulation. Could there be alternate methods to harness mana's power?

The witch appeared entirely ordinary in terms of her mana anatomy – lacking the distinctive marks of a seasoned mana user. The only anomaly was the disturbing stillness of her life mana, a mystery that Lily dared not delve into. More alarmingly, under Lily's skill-assisted observation, the witch's life mana pattern described something ancient. Her body – bones, skin, and blood – was evidently centuries old, a realization that sent shivers down the mendicar's spine. The witch's patronizing tone, which had seemed oddly out of place for her youthful appearance, now made a chilling sense.

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However, the source of the witch's power remained a mystery until Lily's gaze landed on the witch's chest, where a subtle energy pulsed beneath the fabric. The witch, sensing the young woman's intense focus, revealed a necklace hidden under her gown.

"You can see it?" the witch asked, her voice revealing her astonishment.

The object at the heart of the necklace was a dark, shimmering enigma, part stone, part egg, from which the death mana seemed to emanate. Questions flooded Lily's mind: How could the witch use an external mana source? What allowed her to interact with death mana without succumbing to its corrupting influence? How could her ancient body sustain life?

But Lily held her silence, aware that any question might betray her true nature as a healer. The risk was too great; her very survival hinged on the witch's ignorance of her abilities.

The witch's fury was tangible, her face contorting into an expression of rage and indignation. Yet beneath this fearsome display lay an undercurrent of fear – the fear of the unknown. To a being who had navigated the currents of time with centuries of knowledge, Lily represented an unpredictable factor. The witch, more than anyone, understood the dangers that the unknown could harbor.

As the witch began to retract the nebula into the necklace, a sense of urgency pierced Lily's intuition. She knew she needed to flee, and the collapsing dark mana walls provided her with an escaping chance. Without hesitation, Lily seized the opportunity, sprinting through the street, the distance between her and the witch growing with each desperate step.

But the witch was far from passive. Once the mana within the necklace had coalesced to her satisfaction, she extended her hands, directing the concentrated energy towards the running healer. The air crackled with dark energy as the witch's incantations filled the night, the nebula pursuing Lily with relentless boiling fury.

Lily was acutely aware of the imminent danger, her instincts screaming for a solution. 'Clear' was useless. 'Clean' held a sliver of potential to repel the mist, but attempting to purify the air around her would not only drain her mana but also stand a good chance of failing against the witch's thick malevolence. 'Energize,' however, held some potential. It was a gamble, certainly, but in the absence of any means of defense, infusing herself with a surge of energy might just equip her with the speed or strength needed to evade the witch's impending assault.

Time was a luxury she did not possess, so she acted on impulse, tracing the spell's pattern and invoking 'energize' with a desperate infusion of mana.

The spell's effect was immediate and overwhelming. A surge of green energy enveloped her, empowering the life mana within her veins to ecstatic heights. The sensation was unlike anything Lily had experienced, strong and exhilarating, perhaps magnified by the direness of her situation or her unique affinity with life mana. At that moment, she was intoxicated by her own power, even as a significant portion of her mana reserves evaporated.

Then, the death mana descended, a dark wave intent on engulfing her completely. For a heartbeat, Lily feared the end had come, that she would be consumed by the encroaching mist. But as the life force within her met the death mana, it erupted with even greater intensity. Rather than being overwhelmed, Lily's life mana flared, a beacon in the shadow, ready to confront the dark assault with its radiant vitality.

An ethereal battle unfolded, visible only to those attuned to such forces. The confrontation between life and death mana was a spectacle beyond the sight of ordinary onlookers. When the energies finally subsided, the exhaustion from channeling such immense power hit Lily with full force. Her limbs refused to cooperate, leaving her vulnerable and motionless on the ground.

The witch, though somewhat weakened by the encounter, retained enough strength to advance towards Lily with a malevolent gleam in her eyes, her intent clear and lethal.

"You! How did you…?" the witch began, her voice a mix of fury and bewilderment, only to halt abruptly, her expression morphing from anger to shock, and then to fear.

Lily, initially perplexed by the witch's sudden change, quickly grasped the gravity of the situation. The witch had recognized her class. The secret Lily had guarded so fiercely was now laid bare before her enemy.

Confronted with her imminent demise, the healer was surprised to find herself wrestling between resignation and relief. The burden of her secret was lifted, the obstacles on her path destroyed. Her thoughts drifted to Draven – her death would seal his fate as well. Yet, in this moment of clarity, she wondered if death might also offer him a twisted form of freedom.

"You are a he…" the witch began, her accusation hanging in the air, unfinished, as a flaming sword abruptly pierced her chest. The witch's agonized cry echoed through the night, black blood gushing from her wounds.

This unexpected turn of events left Lily in a state of shock, the sudden intervention altering the course of what seemed like her inevitable end. For the first time, she observed the witch's life energy reacting to injury. Guided by the death mana, it moved in ways that defied the natural order, a grotesque display of power manipulation. Her life force dwindled, consumed in a desperate attempt to mend the fatal injury. The witch's skin aged rapidly, her vitality draining away to fuel the unnatural process of repair – it could only be called repair rather than true healing.

Just as a flicker of life seemed to return to the witch's eyes, a second blow decapitated the witch.

"Die, evil!" The envoy screamed before dropping his sword. His strength spent, he collapsed.

The witch's blood splattered across Lily, a macabre baptism in the wake of her unexpected survival. Overwhelmed by the events, the healer succumbed to the flood of emotions that had been dammed up within her.

Her cry, a blend of relief, fear, and release, echoed in the street. Kneeling amidst the remnants of the confrontation, Lily allowed herself to weep.

She was alive, she had survived, and, perhaps, she might even manage to keep her secret hidden.