The thrilling assassination attempt was over, a close shave but no real harm done.
Ronin sheathed the Flowing Flame Sword in his Space Ring. The battle had given him a clear understanding of his own combat prowess.
As long as he wasn't ambushed and didn't lose the initiative, he could defeat an ordinary Bronze Level opponent with the help of his Magic.
"Lord, are you alright?"
Chahar and the others crowded around him. "We're sorry, we couldn't help you fight the enemy."
Ronin waved his hand. "Everyone has their own job to do. Just focus on your duties."
He looked down at himself. After scrambling and rolling on the ground, his clothes were covered in dust and dirt. The hem of his robe was even torn by the shockwave, leaving him looking rather disheveled.
"Go prepare some hot water. I need to wash up and change my clothes."
Ronin said, "Chahar, take some people and tidy up my study. Be careful not to mess up the blueprints."
"Yes, Lord!"
