“What was that?!” Peter gasped. Following his little geek out, he finally noticed the corpses.

“We don't know who used it, but that was forbidden magic. I have not seen such things in decades.” Elisara answered. Her gaze narrowed in thought. “Sir Frederik, take Lucy to her quarters. I will see about the situation.” She requested, nodding to the knight.

Taking the frightened Lucy in his arms, the towering knight ferried her down the hall. The room now comprised Jasmine, Peter, Elisara and Halmar. The four took a deep breath, each of them trying to come to terms with the carnage.

“Those were suicide bombers. Is this a prelude to a larger attack?” Jasmine queried the room, the question set everyone to pondering.

Halmar eventually spoke up. Halmar eventually voiced, "It could be an isolated incident, but the explosion from the distance suggests a larger scheme."

“What should we do then? Maybe we go out and finally do some hero stuff. You know, like that superman dude?” Peter chimed in, pointing out the window, ready to jump start his superhero career.

Jasmine was about to shake her head, instead she took some time to think it over. People were being killed; the city might be in chaos. They were heroes summoned by another world. Should they not intervene? These were her thoughts, dangerous thoughts to be sure, but no less relevant.

“He has a point; we have been training our powers since we got here.” She stated, agreeing for the first time with Peter.

Likely picturing himself in tights and a cape, the delighted teenager beamed. The wanderlust soon faded with visions of corpses and blood. The joy of a superhero career slowly faded to fear and disgust. While Peter reevaluated his life choices, Jasmine turned to their two bodyguards.

“We should do something, regardless.” She firmly stated after some serious thought.

The two traded glances. Neither Halmar nor Elisara wanted to agree. Both considered the heroes not ready and barely out of training. They only agreed to this excursion because the emperor decreed it. Now they faced a legitimate threat to the kingdom of Helgos. The call of heroism was there for the taking. Was it their place to deny them?

“Jasmine, it would be better for us to depart through the gate, back to the capital.” Halmar suggested, casting his gaze down the hall.

The idea was sound. One hero was a traumatised child, and they both had minimal training. They were practically religious figureheads, and they had severely failed in their purpose. Jasmine thought of just leaving through the gate. Let the flying, firing, breathing superman deal with the situation. Yet despite that irrefutable logic, she felt deep down that she needed to do something.

While they were pondering their situation, they could hear footsteps. Lord Anthos arrived with two guards shadowing him. They wore steel plate armour from head to toe, and each of them had scarves around their necks. They wore the banner of his family emblazoned on them, two Katanas crossing a flower.

“Are you well? Do any of you require a healer?” Lord Anthos abruptly asked, sweat atop his brow. They responded in the negative and relief poured over him. “That is good to hear. It will be best if you vacate to the capital.” He suggested, agreeing with Halmar unknowingly.

The two shook their heads, both Peter and Jasmine staunchly opposing the decision. “We must stay. People need help. We got to do the whole hero thing... Right?” Peter suggested cautiously, uncertain himself if he should.

Jasmine nodded, agreeing with him. He smiled, satisfied that at least one person was on his side. “Besides, it would be bad politically if we just left without making an appearance.” Leaving the room with that logic, she noticed several figures approaching.

They appeared to be a collection of servants, two women and one man. They approached frantically and were clearly frightened. Arriving at the entrance, the guards stopped them. “Halt, identify yourself.” One guard commanded.

Lord Anthos rose to the occasion, placating the on-edge protector. “It is fine. Let her through.” Intervening, the guards allowed the lead servant to enter.

Arriving, the lead servant, a young brunette woman with freckles on her face, smiled graciously. The smile reminded Jasmine of her mother's and she was immediately on edge. Before anyone could react, the servant brandished a blade from her wrist. The weapon glided cleanly across her master's chest, spurting blood. Following her abrupt attack, she quickly flung the blade across the room, its edge directed towards Jasmine.

Several other blades materialised, each of them sending death at the two heroes. Halmar leaped into action, a gust of wind sent him flying into the blade's path. The dagger caught on his shoulder, embedding deeply in his flesh. Grunting in pain, Halmar slumped to his knees. The second blade, however, reached its intended target. Decent reflexes and luck spurned Peter to duck. The blade, instead of skewering, sliced across his shoulder. The blade continued on its path, hitting Elisara in the chest.

These events happened in a matter of moments. Soon after, the guards sprang into action, ferrying their wounded lord to the side. Brandishing their weapons, they leapt forward to face the assassins. Before they could eliminate the threat, the three servants swiftly evaded.

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“One shall be enough.” The lead servant muttered, glancing at her cohorts.

The other two sped away while she covered them with a pair of blades. A lumbering form speeding towards her soon eclipsed her vision. Jasmine arrived faster than she expected, landing a right hook. The servant somehow blocked the punch with her crossed blades, staggering back only slightly. Surprised, Jasmine retracted her injured fist, noting the blades remained undamaged.

Realising that she had overshot her attack and left herself wide open. She quickly jumped back, narrowly missing two swings of the blades. The opponent, skilled with bladed weapons, had trained extensively and was far superior. Her own training in martial arts was not up to snuff. A familiar voice resounded as she debated on whether she should retreat.

“Hydro blast!” Peter bellowed, thrusting his palms forward as a jet stream of water emerged.

The stream propelled forward, landing centre mass on the assassin. She attempted to block, but only cut the stream in half, taking the brunt. It sent her flying into a nearby wall, covered in water.

“Ultra effective!” He added, pumping his fist in victory, wincing in pain from the movement.

Rolling her eyes at the weirdo that is her saviour, Jasmine regarded him and smiled. Her smile quickly vanished just as Peter collapsed to the ground. This moment of distraction was enough for the assassin to come back to her senses and rise. The droplets of water resounded, prompting a visceral reaction from Jasmine.

Wiping around to counter the threat, she misjudged her strength and backhanded the woman. Instead of a wet slap, accompanied by a black eye. The sound of squelching flesh and cracked bone replaced her expectations. She first slammed into the woman's face, indenting and splattering the bits and pieces across the wall. The act reminded her strangely of a tomato being popped, its juices flowing wildly.

Resisting the urge to puke, she turned away from the gruesome sight. Taking a deep breath, she put the thought in the lockbox and buried it deep within. Sufficiently self-administered, she turned her attention to her wounded friends.

Peter lay on the ground, groaning in pain. Halmar crouched over him, trying his best to tend to him. Elisara rose easily, pulling the dagger from her chest. Instead of a spurt of blood, the blade was unstained. Appearing unharmed by some miracle or force of magic, she settled down beside Peter.

Halmar and Elisara fussed over the injured Peter, noting the shivering and spasms. The area soon came to life with activity. Guards flooded in. Suitably defending the group, the guards encircled everyone, their gazes locked on the exits.

Sitting down beside him, Jasmine tried to keep her mind off the bloodstains adorning her knuckles. Instead, she focused on her writhing friend. They only knew each other for a few weeks, yet the circumstance bonded them. Still, in that moment, she felt a slight tinge of regret. She had no intention of getting to know him, only focusing on her own agenda. In that moment, as she stared down upon him, she regretted just a little.

“What is happening to him?” She queried anyone that would listen.

Halmar frowned. He clearly didn’t have an answer. The one who spoke up was Elisara, her hands hovering over Peter’s wound. “Looks like some sort of rare poison. It has some odd emanations.” She explained, narrowing her gaze. “No, they didn't.” She muttered, rifling through a pouch at her side.

Withdrawing a red powder and sprinkling the granules over the wound, she chanted under her breath. The wound healed, closing like magic. While this was ongoing, a thick black smoke poured from the injury. The sight placed a stunned expression on Elisara.

“It’s a demonic infection. Their blades were likely steeped in demon blood.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Is there something you can do?” Jasmine asked, genuinely worried.

Instead of answering, she rose to her feet and attended Anthos. Performing the same procedure on the noble. Annoyed, Jasmine was about to argue, until the voice of Halmar brought her back.

“The efforts she has done will keep him alive. But demon infections are normally fatal, requiring rare and dangerous methods to cure,” Halmar explained, his brows knitted in concern.

She could only accept these facts, just as Peter passed out completely. They took both a hero and a noble under guard after treating them. Soon after, Jasmine’s thoughts turned to Lucy, and they sped to find her.

Arriving at a hallway that led to the guest rooms. The sound of a scuffle was obvious to the trio. Turning a corner, the sight of Frederik, sword in hand, defending his charge from three hooded assassins. Lucy crouched behind him like a shield, while Frederik waved the giant piece of steel at everyone within reach.

He slashed down at the nearest enemy, while another struck his flank. His armour took the brunt of the dagger's strike, the knight manoeuvring every time they went for a vital point. The three assassins were clearly after Lucy. Two attacking as a distraction while the third tried to get around the giant shield of a man.

Halmar soon sprang into action, spirits unfurled from his body. A gust of wind propelled into a powerful sprint toward the lean fencer. Closing the distance in an instant, he thrust his rapier into the skull of the closest assassin. The man didn’t even have time to react before his demise. Just as quickly, Halmar retracted his blade, ready to slice and dice the other two.

Unfortunately, the initial attack prompted the other assassins' shift in attention. The closest seem to change tactics, lunging at everyone with reckless abandoned. Slicing anyone near, without thought to his own life. Frederik easily repelled the many strikes, but his opponents quickly pushed him back further than he had intended.

He realised his error; the distance allowed a small gap between him and his charge. The third assassin took the opportunity, lunging at Lucy. Brutish hands lashed out, eager to claim their victim. One hand wrapped around the girl's arm, ready to pull her into the death throw.

“Come here!” The assassin grunted, raising his blade for a strike.

She yelped loudly, trying to pull away. She wasn’t fast enough, and her limb came into the possession of another. They were not gentle, nor respectful. He grasped the arm of a child and pulled as hard as he could.

“Get off me asshole!” She screamed, pulling away with all the strength of a child.

Naturally, her efforts were futile, yet he let go all the same. Instead of feeling the wrath of a child, a gout of flame manifested, setting his eyebrows a blaze. He shrieked in pain, his face red hot and blistering. Unsuccessfully did he try to stamp down the flames, tripping over into a heap of himself.

During this reprieve, Frederiks' sword dispatched the second assassin. Split in half by the great blade, from neck to sternum. With these men slain and the last remaining screaming in the corner. The two groups meet in the middle. Having enough of the man's screams, Frederik renders the man unconscious, with a right hook.

Before any of them can savour their victory, several guards arrive with dire news. “The city is in chaos. Riots have broken out amongst the populace.” They explained with heavy breath. The notion disturbed everyone present, each evaluating the events and the inevitable storm to come.