Despite how well things had been going, Leila was never one to lower her guard at the last moment. Too often, she had seen seemingly perfect missions go to hell when people became convinced that the danger was over.

That caution saved her life. She had been observing the lighthouse parking lot from within her shadow dimension, even though she was far enough to not be noticed by any but the best sensors, when a disturbance in the air made her take notice of her immediate surroundings.

No one without a powerful spatial skill could try to harm her, but that didn’t mean it was a good habit to let enemies attack freely.

It was why she made sure to dodge the sword that came for her from seemingly nowhere. Already, the fact that the point of contact between her dimension and the real world had been located sent alarm bells ringing. On top of that, her instincts screamed that she didn’t want to get caught up in the seemingly mundane sword strike.

Leila rematerialized a dozen feet away, still on the same rooftop but far enough that she could take in exactly who it was that had attacked her.

“Tch. I can already tell this is gonna be annoying.” A deep male voice said.

Her enhanced SENSE was high enough that she could see his features clearly, despite the darkness shrouding the battlefield. Her mind ran through countless memorized profiles until she stopped on one. “Andre Zan. To what do I owe the pleasure of the First Swordsman of the Broken Tower coming to visit me?” She asked, keenly observing every movement.

He was a tall, thin man with sharp features and hard, cold eyes. A long, straight nose and a full beard, coupled with a well-tailored black suit and tie made him look more like a notary than the powerful Awakener she knew him as.

“The Broken Tower is long gone, girl. Nothing but foolish dreams. I’m an independent now.” He revealed, shifting into a sword stance without hurry. He held his weapon directly pointed at her, the sleek blade gleaming ominously under the faint moonlight.

The sword itself was nothing special. Just B-rank mana steel forged into the hardest and most resilient weapon possible, without any other magical powers.

No, the real danger came from the sheer ability the man had in wielding it. A master swordsman before the Apocalypse happened, Andre Zan had taken his skills to their upper limit, achieving incredible feats without a drop of external mana being used.

“Then why are you here? Surely you know that it’s a death sentence to go against the AA so directly.” Leila asked even as she shifted her weight, preparing herself for battle.

The shadows all over the rooftop broiled under her will, shifting and gearing up for a battle she was sure would require her best. "You could have chosen any other job. Why this?"

“I owed Mettermeier a favor.” He revealed, not sounding particularly put off. “It's not personal. Just business. And to be honest, I've always wanted to see how the famed Leila Walker would fare against my blade."

Despite how much more she would have liked to question him, Leila realized that the more time she wasted, the more likely her kids would be in trouble.

He’s probably been told to at least stall me if he can’t kill me. I need to finish this quickly.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

All at once, the shadows rose up, covering her completely. Zan closed the distance in the blink of an eye, sword gleaming with the intent to cut her down then and there.

Leila’s own blade - which emerged from her dimension with a flex of her will - met it with a resounding screech of tortured metal. As she moved with the blow to prevent him from leveraging his greater reach, the moonlight illuminated her form, making the assassin momentarily falter.

The shadows that had converged on her had now become an ever-shifting dress, which gave her a regal look. It tastefully hugged her curves, not showing anything but hinting at more. A veil, as if she were ready to walk to an altar, covered her face, but her red eyes shone through, giving her an eerie look.

Her sword, on the other hand, glowed a muted red, like lava flowing down a volcano.

“The big guns immediately, huh?” Zan asked, retaking his stance. She didn’t bother to answer.

The two circled each other on top of the empty building she had chosen, sizing each other up. The wind howled around them, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city.

They clashed again in the middle of the rooftop, the power released enough to crater the cement. Jets of flame followed every swing of Leila’s sword, forcing the older swordsman to retreat lest he be horribly burned.

His skill with the blade, however, was still superior to hers, which allowed him to not lose too much ground. He shifted like a leaf in the wind, always in the perfect position to menace her.

Her abilities were enough to prevent him from getting any serious blow in, but Leila started to get frustrated as they kept clashing fruitlessly.

Her keen senses told her that if she just kept pushing, she’d slowly gain the upper hand. Her magic was simply an unbridgeable gap, and considering Zan was known exactly for his disdain of the practice - something that had likely confined him to B-rank forever - she just needed to leverage it. He’d tire, having to dodge all her multidirectional attacks, and she’d finally be able to win.

But it wouldn’t happen fast enough. Already, precious time had been wasted, and she had no idea what the situation was like in the parking lot where her kids were facing enemies much stronger than them.

She needed to end this, and quickly.

Saying a silent prayer for the mess she was about to make, Leila gave up any notion of restraint and started flooding the environment with her mana.

Hundreds of points expended every second lifted the temperature to a high enough level that it could have been mistaken for a furnace.

“You are going to bring the whole building down!” Her would-be assassin shouted over the groaning of the foundations.

Leila was well aware of that, and she was glad she had chosen this specific place for her observations since no one lived here, as it was slated for demolition. It could still cause massive damage to the nearby buildings if she kept it up long enough to truly damage it irreparably, but she had no other choice.

With the ground so hot to threaten him on its own, the swordsman was forced to keep jumping around, never staying still for long.

Taking advantage of this, Leila gathered all her shadows and, with a scream of rage and frustration, released them in a massive wave.

Already limited in his movements, Zan could only bring his sword before him to try and cut through the powerful energy coming his way.

Unfortunately for him, that was not her only avenue of attack. The boiling hot floor, which was under her command, rose up.

Trapped between two equally dangerous attacks, the swordsman was forced to get some distance, kicking off the air and jumping high in the sky.

Without waiting for her attack to finish, Leila shifted back into her dimension, pushing hard to reach the parking lot and prevent a massacre.

Her speed was enough that, having been forced away, the assassin couldn’t catch up, even if he quickly understood what was going on. He kicked the air again, shooting towards her like a bullet, swearing loudly, knowing he had allowed her too much space.

On any other occasion, Leila would have taken the time to make sure he was dead before she left, but time was of the essence.

Still, just as she was coming into direct sight of the lighthouse, the whole building she was technically connected to through her skill exploded.

A trap had been set up to prevent her escape. She had known this was a possibility, but hadn’t expected it to be so blatant.

Though not hurt in any way, thanks to her ability, she was slowed down enough that Zan managed to catch up.

His sword shined in the moonlight, aiming at her back. The way the very air parted before it told her he was using a finishing skill of some kind, possibly wanting to exploit her surprise. The rubble had just stopped rolling as he reached her.

Just when it was about to pierce through her back, uncaring of the shadows protecting her form, she fell apart, unraveling like a puppet made of cloth.

With a slick, wet sound, Andre Zan’s head fell to the ground, still shrouded by the dust cloud he had caused with his traps.

Looking little like a human and more like a monster of fire and shadows, a queen of her elements, Leila barely gave it a look. Her entire body was covered in darkness, and only her eyes and the dark, twisted wedding dress’ decorations gave off an eerie red light.

The obstacle taken care of, she sped towards her students.