Sophia’s Hidden Power and the Art of Battle

Thank goodness. Sophia found Iordera’s small figure at the stairwell after climbing to the second floor.

“You’re finally here. I haven’t seen you in days,” Sophia said, panting as she sat beside her. “Have you been busy?”

“Yes, quite busy,” Iordera replied casually. “It’s rare to come back and rest a bit.”

‘Work is rest, after all, since work essentially means slacking off. There’s nothing wrong with that.’

Sophia sighed, unable to resist complaining. “I’m exhausted too. Suddenly, there’s a support group for me at school, and quite a large one at that. They tell me all sorts of things every day, describing academy life as a cutthroat struggle, warning me to be wary of this and guard against that.”

Iordera smiled. “That’s actually quite good.”

“Good?”

“Exactly. Didn’t you want to blend into that circle? There are some things you need to prepare for in advance, and this support group is quite suitable,” Iordera explained to her. “Once you reach a higher position, you’ll also have such a team within the circles of power. You could call it—a faction.”

Sophia seemed pensive.

“When that time comes, you’ll lead your faction in competition against others. You and your faction will rise and fall together. They will also remind you daily to watch out for this and guard against that,” Iordera said, a smile gracing her lips. “So, in essence, the arena of power isn’t all that different from academy life.”

Sophia’s eyes widened in understanding. “So that’s how it is. I’ve learned something new.”

However, curiosity immediately sparked within her. “Iordera, how do you know so much?”

Iordera pointed to the office on the upper floor. “Because our Curator retired from the Imperial high command. She often gives us employees political lessons, teaching us various things.”

Sophia couldn’t help but marvel. “Truly worthy of the United Academy.”

‘And truly worthy of her new ‘cheap older brother’—Sir Olcott, the Seventh Royal Knight, who supposedly paid a hefty price for his enrollment.’

“Oh, right, Mrs. Su mentioned you’d been looking for me these past few days,” Iordera said, a thought striking her. “Is there something you needed?”

“Uh, yes, well, I…”

Sophia stammered for a moment, then, steeling herself, said, “Against those people, I can help you.”

“What?”

“Those people causing trouble on West Street,” Sophia clarified, organizing her thoughts. “Ostensibly, they are considered dangerous elements by the Board, so my intervention against them would be entirely justified.”

“Even if it offends some influential figure, this reason can be used to explain it.”

“That’s not the problem, but,” Iordera said, her concern lying elsewhere. “They are well-trained, highly skilled in combat, and utterly ruthless. They show no mercy.”

“I know,” Sophia blinked. “What’s wrong with that?”

There seemed to be a slight misunderstanding in their conversation, so Iordera decided to be explicit. “They are very dangerous. I’m worried you might get hurt, or suffer even graver consequences.”

Iordera had made herself clear, yet Sophia still prevaricated. “Well, Iordera, you see, when I fought others at school, and in my previous engagements, I always held back. It was mainly because I worried about drawing too much attention. In reality, I…”

“You… wait, just a moment.”

Iordera closed her eyes, switching modes.

Half a minute later, she opened her eyes, and the first thing out of her mouth was, “Holy shit!”

Level 54.

“At this level, you’ve essentially surpassed all the teachers and professors in the academy, except for Hecate.”

‘You’ve completely outclassed them all!’

“Because before, my brother trained me to be a future Royal Knight, so he was a little strict.”

Sophia explained softly.

Iordera was at a loss for words. Here was a beautiful young woman, barely in her teens, already at the level of a regional overlord, while she, in her twenties, was still only in her thirties.

‘What a pathetic display for a loli like her.’

Still, it was good. This made their chances much better.

Iordera waited until school was dismissed, then left the academy with Sophia, heading towards the night market.

“We need a good plan—surprise attacks and ambushes to maximize our effectiveness.”

Having revealed her level, Sophia dropped the pretense, laying her cards on the table. As they rode in the carriage, she spoke candidly with Iordera: “Their team is very well-organized. Once they set up their formation, it won’t be advantageous for us. So, the best approach is a sudden assault, going all out from the start to immediately reduce their numbers, or at least incapacitate one person.”

Iordera nodded.

The three-day period had ended; the cooldown for Natural Order was complete.

“Of course, the most crucial step is to ascertain their location and then scout the terrain,” Sophia continued. “We must utilize every possible advantage.”

It seemed her older brother had truly taught her a great deal.

Seizing the rare opportunity, Iordera posed a question. “Sophia, is the level gap really that significant after level fifty?”

She had heard this notion back in Juneburg.

Sophia nodded. “It’s incredibly difficult to advance beyond level fifty, and the difference in power is indeed vast.”

“Those individuals are all in their forties. Your raw strength should be considerably greater than theirs, then?”

Iordera asked her.

Sophia shook her head. “It depends on the perspective.”

“In what way?”

“For instance, if they attack me, and my objective is merely to survive and escape, then the disparity in power is immense. I could fight my way out even if it meant brute forcing it,” Sophia explained. “However, if I’m the one attacking, aiming to kill them, there’s virtually no power difference, and it becomes quite challenging.”

Iordera asked, her curiosity piqued. “Why is that?”

“Because energy resides within your body, it’s inherently better suited for defense and recovery than for offense,” Sophia stated. “Thus, at higher levels, a person’s survivability becomes several times greater than their offensive power. The higher the level, the more pronounced this difference.”

Iordera paused, slightly stunned. ‘So you’re all stronger in defense than offense,’ she mused.

‘Why am I so different?’ she wondered, considering her own array of skills. ‘My attacks boast critical hits and armor penetration, along with a cheating-like defense-ignoring ability.’

‘As for survivability, well…’

The white-haired loli suddenly recalled how she had reassembled her entire body, piece by piece, after performing the “Heavenly Demon Disintegration Art.”

‘So I’m the same, but even more exaggerated, huh.’

“Besides one’s inherent survivability, there’s also the assistance of others,” Sophia continued. “Just like before, I used basic wind magic to help Awang with her breathing.”

Iordera nodded her small head; she certainly remembered that.

“If even I, a swordsman, can achieve such a feat, then those specialized practitioners would be even more capable.”

Sophia counted on her fingers. “A professional wind mage can forcibly regulate a wounded person’s breathing, even creating a temporary ‘wind lung’ outside the body with magic if organs are damaged. Ice mages can also manipulate various bodily fluids with ice magic, essentially prolonging someone’s life.”

‘So many intricacies existed,’ Iordera thought, her mind distilling every word.