Ailiya possessed many fine qualities, and one of them was her seriousness.
So, over the next stretch of time, Luolan finally experienced just how formidable Ailiya could be.
The afternoon garden was very quiet. Luolan stood in the sunlight slanting in, yet felt as if he were a sparrow under the watchful gaze of a cat.
Ailiya stood a few paces away from him, the hem of her lace dress fluttering lightly in the wind.
As soon as she finished speaking, Ailiya vanished.
Luolan only had time to instinctively lean backward when a gust of wind skimmed past his throat. The young man staggered back a few steps, trying to put some distance between them, but Ailiya always managed to appear at his side in the very next instant.
Her slender, soft fingertips gathered a faint blue Magical Blade, which always hovered just half an inch from Luolan’s neck.
Luolan felt that he was already moving as fast as he could, yet Ailiya caught up with him effortlessly every time. Her movements were elegant, but to Luolan, they exuded a jarring sense of violence.
“Sir Luolan, is this where it ends for you?”
Ailiya’s voice sounded at his ear, only to swiftly fade away again.
Luolan had no time to respond; the overwhelming difference in pure skill and experience left him completely powerless. He could only barely hold his own using Simulated Combat Techniques.
The youth’s breathing grew faster and faster, his vision even beginning to blur. In his eyes, Ailiya’s figure split into countless overlapping phantoms—he knew he was nearing his limit…
Luolan was waiting.
The Iron Booklet floated silently in the depths of his consciousness, a certain number below Ailiya’s name on its page slowly ticking upward.
The woman’s figure once again vanished from his sight, only to reappear above him, the Magical Blade between her fingers aimed straight at his back.
Killing intent filled the air.
But… now was the moment.
That number on the Iron Booklet finally struggled up to the critical threshold of thirty percent.
Luolan grinned, switching the anchor of [Conceptual Imagination] in his mind to Ailiya.
In that instant, it was as if the whole world fell silent.
Luolan suddenly twisted his body, narrowly dodging Ailiya’s attack. Then, with a light tap of his toe on the ground, he slid backward several meters.
Landing, Ailiya raised her brows in slight confusion, sizing up the youth not far away—he was still panting for breath, but his posture had changed entirely.
Just a moment ago, she had clearly sensed Luolan’s movements become different. Ailiya pursed her lips gently, scanning Luolan from head to toe with a suspicious gaze.
He stood nearby, regulating his breathing. Sweat trickled down his temples, dripping onto his collar. Although Ailiya’s information was less detailed than Siluode’s, it was nonetheless the most suitable upgrade for Luolan at this moment—speed, reflexes, the strength of his magical circuits, and various supportive magic enhancements.
He could clearly “see” the flow of magic around Ailiya, see the faint blue Wind Element swirling about her.
Moreover, using this information, Luolan attempted for the first time to guess at Ailiya’s thoughts and predict her next move.
So, in the next bout, Luolan detected a slight gathering of magic at Ailiya’s shoulder, understood the sudden adjustment in her breathing rhythm, and even saw the flow of power in those long legs of hers.
—Had he always been this strong?
In this exchange, where she failed to gain even the slightest advantage, Ailiya secretly pondered in her heart.
She let out a soft sigh, as if making some sort of decision.
Barely thirty seconds later, Luolan’s cry of anguish echoed out.
Ailiya, now truly serious, no longer held back. Although Luolan could just barely keep up with her trajectory, his body simply couldn’t match the speed of his mind. In facing her attacks, he could only protect his vitals at the last moment, before being sent flying by Ailiya—right onto a freshly pruned bed of Rosebush.
Luolan limped back to his room, and as he rounded the corridor, he ran right into Youna, who was out searching for snacks.
The girl hugged a freshly opened bag of cookies. When she saw Luolan’s sorry state, she was stunned for a moment before mercilessly launching into a serious round of mockery.
“Small fry, small fry, you really got beaten up by Sis, huh—”
With that, she skipped away toward the dining room, leaving Luolan secretly swearing that he’d find a chance to give her a good spanking.
Back in his room, he lay on his back on the bed, staring at the patterns on the ceiling.
“Damn it.” The youth muttered, “Ailiya at full power really doesn’t pull her punches.”
It took quite a while for Luolan to recover. He summoned that cool little lump of iron and had it unfold into the Iron Booklet in his palm, carefully studying it for any details he might have missed.
Just as he was getting engrossed in his research, there was a gentle knock at the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened. Ailiya entered, carrying a small Tray, on which sat several delicate Crystal Bottles. The hem of her maid’s uniform swayed gently with her movements, revealing a glimpse of fine ankles wrapped in black stockings.
Luolan watched as she walked to the bedside, placed the Tray on the nightstand, and then stood there, looking a little uneasy.
“Ailiya?” Luolan was a bit surprised. “What’s this?”
“I… I was afraid I was too rough with you earlier, so after I finished tending the flower beds, I came to check on you.” Ailiya paused, a faint blush blooming across her cheeks. “Are you alright?”
Luolan was a bit taken aback. He propped himself up to sit, but accidentally tugged at his side, sucking in a breath from the pain.
Looking at the Maid Chief standing by his bed, he thought that if he hadn’t just been beaten to a pulp, he’d never have connected these two sides of Ailiya.
Ailiya seemed to read his thoughts, and the blush on her cheeks deepened further. She bit her lip lightly, her voice carrying sincere apology.
“I haven’t sparred with anyone in a long time… So I lost control for a moment. Please don’t mind, Sir Luolan.”
As she spoke, she took a bottle of Ointment from the Tray, unscrewing the cap with elegant movements.
“Um… Please take off your shirt and lie down on the bed.” As she spoke, her gaze involuntarily turned slightly away. “I’ll apply the medicine for you.”
Luolan hesitated, then shrank back a little, feeling awkward.
“I can do it myself—”
“That won’t do.” Ailiya looked up, a hint of stubbornness in her voice. “You can’t reach the injuries on your back.”
Unable to argue with her, Luolan could only sigh in resignation. He slowly took off his shirt—his back was smooth and well-shaped, but mottled with purplish bruises.
He lay face-down on the bed, burying his face into the soft Cushion.
Ailiya sat at the bedside, the mattress dipping gently under her weight.
She dipped her fingers in the Ointment and gently smeared it over the bruises on Luolan’s back. Her fingers were slender and soft, with no trace of roughness from her work.
“This might sting a little.”
Ailiya spoke softly.
Luolan mumbled his assent into the Cushion.
The moment the Ointment touched his skin, a cool sensation instantly seeped through, soothing the burning pain. Once she finished, Ailiya even gave his tense shoulders a brief massage.
Luolan almost let out a sound of pleasure.
Thankfully, he kept his face buried in the Cushion the whole time, not daring to speak—otherwise, if he’d let out any strange noises, it would have been mortifying. Luolan could feel Ailiya’s breath lightly brushing the back of his neck, carrying a faint trace of Rose Scent from the flower beds.
“All done. Are you feeling any better?”
Luolan slowly sat up and put his shirt back on, not quite daring to meet Ailiya’s eyes, keeping his head down as he fastened his buttons.
“By the way, Sir Luolan, would you like to go out to the Street with me in a while to pick up a few things?” Ailiya’s voice seemed even gentler. “I really shouldn’t have entrusted that task to Youna in the first place.”
“Sure, I’ve been wanting to get out for a walk anyway.”