Clumsy Attack

Emerald Heart Tavern.

Elan poured himself a glass of fruit wine, a rare sight, and set it down after only a single sip.

Fran approached him and tapped on the table, causing Elan to snap out of his daze and hurriedly greet her:

"Hey... friend... uh... I hope you're here to deliver the potions; I have an order that needs to be filled soon."

Elan stammered through the words, struggling to recall exactly what he meant to say.

Fran found Elan's behavior strange, but she didn't press him, simply placing the large crate she had brought onto the table.

Fran opened the crate from the back, revealing the emerald-green Healing Potion bottles inside.

Elan, clearly distracted, merely touched one of the bottles, gave it a cursory glance, and set it back down.

"Everything is good quality... no... errors in the production process."

Fran ignored his state and went straight to the point:

"Then give me the money. I still have to pay my... 'friend'."

Only then did Elan seem to wake up, offering a bitter smile as he said:

"Uh... friend... you didn't even ask about my state just now. Don't you really care about your friend?"

"Fine then... what's the matter?"

Elan opened his mouth to speak, but realized this wasn't something he could share with Fran, so he paused to think.

"This matter... it's my... well, actually, I can't tell you about this. My apologies."

"Are you messing with me?!"

"I'm sorry..."

Elan wanted to pivot to a different topic to vent to Fran; he had been feeling stifled lately and longed to confide in someone, but his gloomy mood left his mind blank.

However, after the diversion, he felt his state improve significantly and began to discuss business with Fran again.

"There is one thing I didn't confirm properly, which the transport merchant only told me a few days ago."

"The lord on that side doesn't actually need full-strength Healing Potion."

"A full-strength Healing Potion is too small in volume; it's a drop in the bucket for the number of wounded on the battlefield."

"So, he wants diluted Healing Potion. Even though the efficacy is reduced, the increased quantity will allow them to cover more combatants."

"So, from now on, you only need to bring large bottles of Healing Potion; you don't need the small ones."

Back at the academy, apprentices bought potions through retail, selling them along with the glass vials.

Fran had followed that retail practice, buying the vials and producing many small bottles of potion.

The battlefield was clearly different; the glass vials were too expensive there. The merchants had to take them, add water, and then repackage them into small wooden containers.

Therefore, he was telling Fran to stop using small bottles and use large ones instead to save on the cost of the vials.

For both the merchant and Fran, saving on the cost of vials was beneficial for everyone.

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind next time. Anything else?"

"No, that's all the money..."

Fran took the money and, without a hint of lingering, turned and walked away.

As she stepped out of the Emerald Heart Tavern, she touched her bulging pocket and let out a silly grin.

Although she wasn't exactly short on money, who would complain about having more?

Suddenly, her senses picked up a sword slashing toward her right side.

Oh no! Why an ambush at a time like this again!

Last time, Mars had attacked her just as she received payment, ruining her good mood.

She activated her Breathing Technique, leaping and dodging the attack in a single motion.

But the opponent's assault didn't end there; from her left, a wave of liquid was sprayed out. She barely managed to shift her momentum in mid-air, but a splash of the liquid struck her left arm.

The liquid seemed corrosive; her sleeve hissed and turned to ash, revealing the stone-like armor folded into scales beneath. Fran flicked her left hand, shaking off the remaining liquid.

She had been keeping Hardened Scale Rock active to guard against sudden attacks.

However, there were pros and cons; because of this spell, she hadn't been able to dodge the attack completely, but because of it, she hadn't sustained any damage. The only loss was that this set of clothes was likely ruined.

She turned to look and saw a person standing where the liquid had been sprayed, holding a torn scroll.

Fran could see that his eyes were devoid of any luster, like a robot, showing no signs of tension or excitement.

"Another cyborg!"

Fran realized this was a cyborg—devoid of emotion and following only orders.

Am I cursed to deal with cyborgs? Last time it was Mars bringing two cyborgs to ambush me here, and now another one is attacking me.

Fran performed Elven Swordsmanship in mid-air, defying the laws of inertia to forcefully propel herself toward the first cyborg that had attacked her with the sword.

She unleashed Sky Strike, leaving the opponent with no choice but to raise his sword above his head in a desperate attempt to block the blow.

Fran's attack was unstoppable; her blade carried the opponent's sword down with it, the tip burying itself into the enemy's skull. With a sharp tug, she pulled the longsword free, leaving it stained with a mixture of white and red.

Fran then drew the short sword from her waist with her left hand, took aim, and hurled it with all her might. The blade flew toward the enemy holding the scroll like a cannonball.

A flash of purple light erupted behind him as the hilt embedded itself deep into his chest, killing the cyborg instantly.

Fran descended from the air, yet she did not lower her guard, remaining wary of any potential follow-up attacks.

The attack did indeed come, though it was not quite what she had imagined.

Three cyborgs were crawling toward her across the ground—yes, literally crawling.

The three bodies were tangled over one another, preventing any of them from standing up, yet bound by their orders, they could only drag themselves forward.

Fran unleashed a single Wind Blade, which whistled through the three cyborgs; after a brief struggle, they ceased all movement.

This was the low intelligence of cyborgs! Fran finally understood why those lords didn't buy them for their own use.

They possessed great strength and obeyed orders perfectly, doing exactly what they were told—so why wouldn't the lords buy them?

The problem lay in their inability to coordinate with others. A normal person would know not to obstruct a teammate's performance, but cyborgs lacked such intelligence, and individually, they posed no real threat.

"Who attacked me?"

Unlike the previous ambush by Mars, this time she could not see who had issued the orders for these cyborgs to attack her.

"Hey, friend, do you need my help?"

Elan's voice came from behind her as he stepped out of the tavern; the recent battle had sent all the surrounding civilians into hiding.

"Not this time..."

Since she was the apprentice who had been attacked, the Enforcer Squad would never take any action against her; at most, they would simply investigate who had purchased these cyborgs.