The Ambush of Iordera

Was it that little girl, Iordera?

But wasn’t she dead!

Busius was suddenly startled, all traces of sleep vanishing. Yet, his reaction was instantaneous.

With a flick of his wrist, countless wind blades sliced through the air.

Pfft, pfft, pfft.

Amidst the dull thuds, the small figure was effortlessly cut into several pieces. Busius, focusing his gaze, realized it was merely a scarecrow dressed in clothes.

Tricked!

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

At the intersection, several bags of flour suddenly exploded, blanketing the entire street in dust. Busius hastily channeled the elements, forming a spherical wind barrier around himself.

He secretly rejoiced, grateful for his swift reaction. The spherical wind wall had preserved a pocket of oxygen, averting the danger of suffocation.

This was a premeditated ambush.

Busius raised his hand again, unleashing a fierce gale that swept away all the dust from the air. By then, the sky had brightened slightly, finally offering a clearer view.

Yet, the street intersection before him was nothing but a desolate mess, with no trace of the girl.

Busius knew she hadn’t gone far. Regardless of how she had miraculously survived, she was here for revenge.

“It seems you’ve salvaged a life, and for that, I should congratulate you,” Busius said, slowly advancing and speaking aloud. “What a pity, though. If you had simply disappeared, that life would have been a bonus. But you shouldn’t have come back to seek death.”

He surveyed his surroundings; the entire street, even the air, was eerily silent.

“Heh, you don’t actually think I won’t find you just by staying still and silent, do you?”

Busius narrowed his eyes, listening intently to the flow of the wind elements.

The slightest movement, a mere breath, would disturb the air current and be detected by the wind elements, revealing her hiding spot.

Two minutes later, an odd expression crossed Busius’s face.

Not a single trace of breath!

This suggested two possibilities. First, the girl, Iordera, wasn’t here at all, having merely left a trap to vex him.

The other possibility was that she had truly crawled back from hell for revenge, for the dead need no breath.

A shiver inexplicably ran down Busius’s spine.

‘No way,’ he thought. ‘Such a thing hasn’t been heard of in years. Even the rumored necromancy of the dark elves couldn’t achieve this level.’

With Prince Augustus Obsidian’s urging still fresh in his mind, and the eerie threat of the deceased girl looming, Busius forced himself to gather his wits and cautiously proceeded.

****

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the corner, Iordera lay hidden beneath the steps, silent as death itself.

She understood one crucial fact: although both Busius and the combat puppets she’d faced before were Level 60 or higher, their actual strength differed immensely.

The combat puppets had only a few attack methods and would dissipate after a single strike. Busius was different; he had no such limitations and was a master of magic.

She had known since their encounter at the top of the spire that a direct confrontation with Busius was futile. Iordera wouldn’t even get a chance to strike, let alone land a blow.

Therefore, this time, she harbored no extraneous thoughts. Her sole aim was to exchange a blow, wound for wound, when he least expected it.

The human body has a few rigid limitations: eating, drinking, and sleeping.

Just days prior, Busius had forcibly altered his biological clock. In his relentless pursuit of Arno and her companions, he had traded a healthy routine for a nocturnal existence. Yet, he was no longer a young man capable of burning the midnight oil without consequence.

Thus, she had seized the moment of his exhaustion, forcing him to rally his spirit and rush out into the street. Then, she had exploited the sound and flour explosion to startle him, ensuring he was fully alert.

And then? Then, she simply played dead!

A person can endure one forced surge of adrenaline, but if they relax afterward, the ensuing fatigue intensifies manifold.

The moment Busius descended the steps, rounded the street corner, and allowed his guard to drop.

That was her only chance.

Thump, thump, thump.

Busius had indeed relaxed, his pace quickening, yet his spirit grew increasingly weary.

‘Even if that girl is lurking nearby with some special trick, what does it matter?’ he thought. ‘She’s just a Level 30 novice. The level suppression is absolute; she can’t possibly harm me.’

‘I should hurry to the United Academy, appease the Little Prince, and then return for a proper rest.’

But as he descended the steps, glancing casually to the side, a sudden chill pierced his back.

The girl he had searched for in vain was right there, her dark golden eyes fixed on him, her slender, powerful white leg raised high.

Busius’s battle instincts erupted despite his weariness, two elements surging wildly around him.

[Super-Compressive Rock Layer]

[Hardened Flow Blade]

Yellow earth erupted from the ground, forming layer upon layer of super-strength shields before Busius.

Wind blades materialized in mid-air, slicing Iordera in two in the blink of an eye. Her upper body flew up with the wind, sliding far backward, while her lower half remained rooted, still in its ready stance, knee bent, leg raised.

Busius let out a breath of relief, then watched as the leg, now severed from its upper body, still kicked out.

‘Just how bizarre is this girl?’ he wondered. ‘But what does it matter? This is the strongest defensive skill below Level 70…’

Thwack!

With a dull thud, Busius’s eye twitched.

The girl’s dainty size 33 foot sliced through the impregnable rock shield as if it were tofu, meeting no resistance, and slammed directly into his abdomen.

The force of a Level 34 strike hitting him caused Busius to cough violently.

“Cough, cough, cough! Cough, cough, cough! Ptui!”

‘Thankfully, it was only a Level 30-something attack in the end.’

Busius spat out a mouthful of blood, glaring furiously at the girl’s ‘corpse’ on the ground. Both halves lay motionless and far apart, clearly beyond revival.

He felt relieved, yet, recalling her previous resurrection, he prepared to deliver a few more fatal blows.

At that moment, however, a dull ache suddenly pulsed through his abdomen.

Meanwhile, Iordera slowly closed her fading dark golden eyes.

[Alert, alert! Sub-core and torso severely damaged. Entering hibernation mode shortly…]

She ignored the alert on her control panel, instead opening her combat log—

[Elegant Strike landed on target’s abdomen. Target’s real-time defense: 0. Negative effect probability adjusted to 100%. Judgment successful.]

Clutching his belly, Busius felt waves of cramping pain from his stomach to his intestines. Beads of sweat, large as beans, trickled down his face.

Disregarding the girl’s bisected body, he hurried back, leaning on the wall for support.

A servant from the Governor’s Mansion, who had just stepped out for morning chores, saw their master clutching his stomach and stumbling back inside, his face utterly pale, cold sweat dripping profusely.

“Governor, what is wrong?”

“Move aside!”

Busius shoved the servant aside and stumbled further in, pausing only to grasp the doorframe. “Quick,” he rasped, “fetch a doctor and a priest!”