The Shopkeeper’s Last Stand and Iordera’s Fury

Iordera let out a wry chuckle.

“I’m not like you. I’m… never mind. Just give me my change.”

Just then, a hurried patter of footsteps echoed from behind the counter, signaling the arrival of the shop’s mistress.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I’ll have this wrapped up for you in a moment.”

With practiced ease, she bagged the bread, accepted the silver coin Iordera offered, and handed both the bread and the change to Iordera.

“Little sister, head home early, and be careful.”

Iordera gave a slight, amused smile.

“Wouldn’t you, as shopkeepers, be in more danger?”

“Indeed, we’re planning to close starting tomorrow,” the woman replied.

“We had originally intended to close today, but the Lord’s Manor placed an order with us.”

“The Lord’s Manor?”

“That’s right. It will be hard to buy anything in the coming days, as everyone is closing their shops. Many people need to stock up on daily necessities.” She offered a faint smile.

“If it were anyone else, we might have refused, but since it’s for the Lord, we decided to do business for one last day.”

Upon hearing this, a complex feeling stirred within Iordera.

Lord Martin himself had orchestrated this entire situation, yet the people of Juneburg continued to place their trust in him.

“It’s still quite dangerous. All the other places on the street are closed, leaving your shop as the sole target,” Iordera said, a note of hesitation in her voice.

“You should really close up early.”

“Don’t worry. As soon as my husband finishes packing the Lord’s order, we’ll close our doors.”

Chewing on her bread, Iordera left the shop and continued her aimless stroll down the street.

With only three days remaining and all leads exhausted, what more could she possibly do?

She had no idea what the Lord’s so-called plan entailed, or if Andrew and his companions would manage to escape safely; all she could do was theorize.

The only person who might have answers was Cairns, the former president of the Alchemist’s Guild, a notoriously ill-tempered old man, from whom she certainly couldn’t coax any information.

If she were to barge in like she did at Poli’s house, inventing some random identity, the old man would likely chase her down the street with a slipper.

Sigh.

Iordera halted, then turned back the way she came.

With things having come to this, and no other recourse, all she could do was wait…

****

*Clang!*

Several loud crashes erupted ahead, startling the preoccupied Iordera, who immediately quickened her pace.

A terrible premonition surged within her.

Her fears had materialized: as the sole remaining target on the street, a gang of masked men had set their sights on the small shop. After smashing through the iron window, they swarmed inside, wildly hacking and smashing with large blades.

The shop’s mistress, unable to escape in time, was struck down by two blades and collapsed to the floor.

“Trying to run? Where do you think you’re going, hahaha!”

These masked men were criminals Martin Sword-Picker had recruited from Juneburg’s death row, vicious individuals who now, acting on orders, perpetrated their crimes without a shred of conscience.

The incident unfolded too abruptly for the couple’s young daughter to comprehend what was happening, only to see her mother sprawled in a pool of blood.

Just as she began to cry out, another masked man snatched her up with one hand.

“Well, well, caught a tender one. Boss, should we kill this one?”

The masked men’s little leader glanced back, a cold sneer twisting his lips.

“Of course not yet. We’ll keep her for…”

“Boss!” the man holding the little girl suddenly yelled.

“What, do you have an issue with my decision?” the little leader retorted, clearly displeased.

“Stop pretending to be a good person. If you’re not interested, you can hand her over to…”

“No, Boss, behind you!”

He whirled around then, but it was already too late. The girl, smaller than the window itself, had darted in, her hand like a blade, slashing across his face.

*Rip!*

Even without any skill bonuses, the first strike of her high-speed hand blade was enough to cleave open his skull. The masked leader didn’t even have time to scream before his head exploded, killing him instantly.

“You little b*tch!”

The masked man nearby roared in fury, carelessly flung the little girl he held aside, and charged forward, raising his blade. The “little b*tch” he cursed pulled back her hand, took a slight step back, then met him empty-handed.

*Clang!*

Blade met elbow head-on, producing an impossible clang of metal.

The masked man’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“What kind of mon…”

He couldn’t finish his sentence as the small hand on her elbow straightened, transforming into a sharp blade that arced out at an inhuman angle, flashing across his neck.

Having instantly lost two comrades, the other two masked men inside quickly rushed out.

“b*tch, die!”

He swung his blade in wide, powerful arcs, but the girl simply ducked her head, her small body weaving around him.

Her long white hair flowed past, like streaks of moonlight.

‘How beautiful,’ he couldn’t help but think.

But then he noticed a bloody gash appearing on his body, stretching from his shoulder all the way to his stomach.

“Aaaargh, I’ll kill you!”

The last masked man’s eyes turned crimson. The four of them had committed murder and arson together, yet today, in the blink of an eye, he was the only one left standing.

He took two large strides forward, dragging his blade up as Iordera’s hand was still embedded in his fallen comrade.

However, in the next instant, Iordera’s hand blade re-formed into a fist, pulling upward against the wound, and delivered a heavy punch directly to his face.

‘How did she do that?’

That thought flashed through the last masked man’s mind. Instinctively, he brought his blade up to block.

With a sharp *crack*, the machete snapped in half. Without another thought, he brought both hands up to defend himself.

“Aargh!!”

His head was saved, but both his arms, with a series of crisp snaps, broke.

Just then, the shop door was violently shoved open, and several armored guards burst inside.

“What’s going on? Stop!”

“You! Let go now!”

The chaos in the shop subsided. Iordera stood to the side, silently wiping the blood from her hands. The sole surviving masked man lay on the floor, screaming in agony. The little girl was unharmed but had fainted from fright. Beside the deceased woman, a man knelt, crying out in heart-wrenching anguish.

He was the shop’s male owner, who had been in the back packing the Lord’s order, narrowly escaping the carnage—fortunate, or perhaps unfortunate, to have survived.

****

In the empty room next door, temporarily repurposed as an interrogation chamber, two guards sat stiffly, while across from them, a beautiful white-haired girl occupied a chair.

“What is your name? Where are you from? What have you done?”

“What have I done?”

Her ruby-like eyes flickered mockingly between them.

“Let me think. First, I initiated with a ‘W’ ability, instantly killing the first person. Then, the second person charged at me, but I remained unfazed, blocking their attack with a ‘Q’ ability, followed by a quick second ‘W’ to finish them off. When the third person arrived, I skillfully dodged their attack, suddenly unleashing a third ‘W’ which, with its bleeding and execute effects, eliminated them. The last one dared to step forward, but they surely didn’t anticipate that I still held my second ‘Q’, which I used to take them down directly.”

The interrogating guards stared blankly, then one exclaimed exasperatedly, “What in the world are you talking about!”

“It’s *me* who should be asking *you* what in the world you’re doing!”

Iordera suddenly stood, fury practically blazing from her eyes.

“They were murdering people in that shop, people are dead, and you imbeciles were still dawdling outside! I merely did what you were supposed to do.”

“And now, you have the audacity to ask me what I did?”