The Sword of Arad

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Chapter 12: Prey and Hunter

There was no need to discuss tactics further. Dividing and striking separately was the best choice.

This wasn’t arrogance from Midi’s group. Splitting up aimed not to weaken themselves but to cripple the enemy further. Three level 30 assassins together posed a far greater threat than four level 20 students. Separating them increased their odds of victory.

“Midi, come with me to handle that assassin!” Fina declared.

Sigmund and Lilian exchanged glances—the Queen of Storms had judged Midi as the strongest among them. Lilian clearly disagreed, but with enemies closing in, arguing was pointless. The freckled girl shot Midi a resentful glare before vanishing around the corner with the blonde boy.

Their target was the level 30 gunner. This ranged foe became deadly when united with allies but vulnerable without a meat shield. Now was the perfect time to strike.

The assassin had to be eliminated first. A single ambush from her could mean instant death.

As for the strongest killer, clearly above level 30, Midi still couldn’t gauge his exact power. But facing him head-on before isolating him was unwise.

The potion on their bodies kept working. Most monsters ignored the two slipping through shadows, instead gathering deeper into the ruins—where the assassins lurked.

Following the monsters’ movements, Midi soon found his target.

The level 30 assassin was clearing Cat Demons. These beasts meant nothing to her, but an assassin exposed from shadows was already in peril.

The level gap let her spot Midi and Fina instantly. Her eyes widened briefly in disbelief before twisting into a vicious grin.

“Pathetic sub-20 trash daring to return? Think you’re strong?” The assassin hurled poisoned shurikens, her gaze cold as death.

Midi didn’t block or slow. He sidestepped sharply, leaving Fina exposed—a reckless move for a guardian, but years of battle taught him it was right.

As expected, the red-haired girl had already gathered a swirling magic vortex mid-sprint. When the assassin threw her shurikens, the Queen of Storms had locked onto her.

A shrill screech tore the air as azure light erupted from Fina’s palm—a spear-like beam piercing the stillness.

The shurikens vaporized in the searing magic, failing to slow the shockwave even slightly.

Dozens of goblins were flung back by the blast’s aftershocks.

“What?!” The dark elf paled. Despite her 10-level advantage, primal fear gripped her bones.

Technically, this was Magic Missile, a basic spell for untransformed magicians.

But this was Fina’s Magic Missile.

The future Queen of Magic had honed this simple spell beyond imagination. Maximal potency, stacking, penetration, range, amplification, and hyper-specialization—all fused into one devastating force.

Though the dark elf’s level 30 physique outclassed Fina’s, the onslaught crushed her confidence.

“Damn!” She abandoned blocking, swapping places with a shadow clone—her signature escape skill.

But this was the magic of the future Queen, even at level 21.

Fina’s hand flicked. The beam twisted like a living serpent, curving through air to chase the relocated assassin.

“Impossible!” The dark elf gaped.

“You can’t win,” Fina stated, calm and certain.

Her red hair billowed like a flag in windless ruins. Azure light flared around her as eight more missiles formed, weaving a net with the serpent-beam.

Explosions rocked the ruins, shaking the ground.

Midi didn’t check if the dark elf survived. At level 30, with gear and preparation, one-shot kills were rare without perfect timing.

But the assassin beating Fina? Impossible.

Assassins countered magicians in shadows, but exposed, their weak defenses crumbled under magic barrages. From his reincarnated perspective, victory belonged to Fina’s endless magic, not the exposed dark elf.

Exchanging a nod with the red-haired girl, Midi sprinted deeper into the ruins.

A level 19 untransformed Demon Swordman would only hinder Fina’s fiery rain of spells.

His target wasn’t the assassin—it was the highest-level sword soul.

Letting high-level killers regroup was fatal. Their strengthened forces now resulted from Midi’s altered choices after rebirth.

His mess, his responsibility.

Eyes sharp, Midi glided silently through Dark Thunder Ruins, avoiding monster hordes and skirmishes effortlessly—a master adventurer’s skill.

Suddenly, he jerked to a halt, leaping back.

A blade’s gust grazed his bangs.

The sword arrived before its wielder—the sword soul’s Ultimate Intent.

No words. A shadowy figure shot toward Midi.

Outleveled, he barely glimpsed the attacker’s face. His longsword barely rose to guard his heart.

CLANG! The impact numbed his arms, lifting him off his feet.