Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 82: Incapacitate

Eira adjusted her stance, readying herself. These weren’t ordinary attackers. Their speed, precision, and silence marked them as trained professionals.

[Master,] the familiar mechanical voice of the AI echoed in her mind, and Eira had to move to the side to evade an attack she hadn’t expected due to her momentary surprise.

[AI? Is that you? Where the hell have you been?!]

[Master, I’ve been undergoing an upgrade to my full capacity due to your incoming birthday.]

[My eighteenth birthday? You should have told me.]

[Yes, Master, and I’m sorry, but I don’t even know when the upgrade will start. I shut down automatically as soon as the upgrade began. Although I’m still halfway through the process, I was able to turn on, and it seems I arrived at the right time. The attackers’ speed isn’t far beyond your current speed, but your current strength surpasses theirs. If you can hit them with enough force in certain key areas, you can incapacitate them effectively.]

[Got it. Where should I aim?]

[Aim for the base of the neck, the solar plexus, or the inside of the knee. Strikes to these points will disable their mobility or knock them unconscious.]

Eira gritted her teeth, dodging another strike as the attacker’s blade missed her by inches. She had no room for error.

With the AI’s guidance, she surged forward, twisting her body with precision. Her fist connected with the attacker’s solar plexus in a brutal blow. The masked figure staggered, gasping for breath, and she followed up with a swift kick to the knee, sending him collapsing to the ground.

The second attacker lunged at her, but Eira anticipated the move. She sidestepped and drove her elbow into the side of his neck, his body crumpling instantly.

[Two of them are down, one is fighting the Dellinger sisters’ shadow guard, and the last is closing in on your friends.]

Fuck! There were four of them!

Lance was still holding his own against one of the attackers, his movements fast and precise, but the one he was facing matched his strength.

Shit. Eira hoped he could hold him down.

She turned around to see that the fourth attacker was only a few feet away from her friends. Before she could move forward, another figure emerged from the side.

Eira’s eyes narrowed as another figure darted into view. Her bodyguard, Miles, moved with precision, intercepting the final attacker just as they closed in on the group. His strikes were fast and efficient, matching the attacker blow for blow.

Eira watched intently as the fight unfolded. Miles deflected a strike aimed at his ribs, pivoting and landing a powerful punch to the attacker’s jaw. The masked figure staggered but recovered quickly, countering with a spinning kick that Miles narrowly dodged.

The fight lasted nearly two tense minutes, each clash of fists and feet resonating in the air. Finally, Miles found an opening, delivering a crushing elbow to the side of the attacker’s neck. The masked figure collapsed, struggling weakly as Miles pinned them to the ground.

Eira let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She turned her attention to Lance, who had just subdued his own opponent. He strode toward her, his movements brisk, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

"Who’s that?" Lance asked, his tone curious but wary as he gestured toward Miles, who was now binding the unconscious attacker’s hands with zip ties he pulled from his pocket.

Eira’s lips curved into a small, self-assured smile. "My bodyguard," she replied, brushing off her sleeves.

Lance raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his gaze lingering on her as if ensuring she was truly unharmed. "Are you alright?" he asked in a low voice.

"I’m fine," Eira said, her tone steady but clipped. "You should check on the others. I still have someone to deal with." She glanced toward Myra, who was sprawled awkwardly on the ground, unconscious and oblivious to the chaos.

Lance hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing. Then he gave a sharp nod. "Alright," he said, his voice softening briefly. "Be careful." With that, he turned and jogged toward the others, who were huddled nearby under Orla’s watchful eye.

Eira walked back to Myra, her expression cool as she looked down at the other girl. "Useless," she muttered under her breath, giving Myra a light nudge with her foot. She contemplated leaving her there, letting the insufferable girl wake up and fend for herself.

But practicality overruled her irritation. This was her chance—a perfect opportunity to get what she needed.

"Lucky you," Eira muttered, exhaling sharply as she crouched down. She grabbed Myra’s wrist, dragging her unceremoniously toward the others. Her steps were light, her movements showing no sign of effort despite the added weight.

As soon as she reached the group, Malia hurried toward her, throwing her arms around Eira and pulling her into a tight hug, her grip as firm as a vice.

"Ephyra! Thank goodness you’re alright! I was so scared those men were going to hurt you." She pulled back slightly, her worried gaze scanning Eira’s body. "You’re not hurt, are you?"

Eira smiled and shook her head. "I’m fine," she reassured her, only for Malia to pull her into another hug. This time, Eira reciprocated, her arms wrapping around the other girl in comfort.

"How do you even know how to fight like that? You were better than Lance—I was shocked!" Malia exclaimed, her voice a mixture of awe and curiosity.

"It’s—"

"Malia, I don’t think now is the time for questions," Orla interjected as she approached, gently tugging her sister away from Eira. "Right, Ephyra?"

Eira gave a small nod, seizing the opportunity to redirect the conversation. "Yeah. Are you alright?" she asked, her eyes moving between Orla and Cyran, assessing them for injuries.

"I’m fine," Orla replied curtly.

"What about you, Cyran?"

"I—I’m alright. Are you?" he asked softly, stepping closer. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Eira couldn’t help but smile, her lips curving into a wide grin at the genuine concern in his voice. "I’m fine," she said warmly.

She’d been in countless worse situations than this, but no one had ever asked her with such sincerity if she was okay. It was... nice.

"Miss Ephyra," Reed, her driver, stepped beside her. She turned to him as he gave a short bow. "Miles has secured the man in the trunk. Is there anything else you’d like us to do?"

Eira glanced down at Myra’s limp form, her lips curling in distaste. "Actually, yes. Throw her into the back seat."

Reed gave a curt nod, crouched down, and easily hefted Myra over his shoulder. Without a word, he turned and strode toward the car.

"Who is that?" Malia asked, frowning as she watched Reed carry Myra away. "I don’t think I’ve seen him before."

"That’s my driver," Eira replied smoothly. She turned back to the group. "Since everyone’s alright, we should leave. I need to take Myra to the hospital."

Malia wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Do you have to?"

"I don’t want to, but I have to. I’m more worried about you all."

"We’ll be fine. We have Lance with us," Orla said firmly.

"But what about Cyran?" Eira asked, her tone genuinely concerned.

"He’ll come with us. We’ll drop him off at home," Orla responded instantly.

"Then take Miles with you," Eira suggested. "He’s my bodyguard. With him and Lance, I’ll be at ease."

"But what about you?" Cyran asked, his voice laced with worry, and Malia nodded in agreement.