The assassin raised his blade again, poised to finish off Roy. But before he could strike, a dagger whistled through the air, embedding itself squarely in the back of the assassin’s skull. The force dropped him instantly. Across the room, Xemena emerged from the shadows, rushing to their side. Without hesitation, she pried the sword from the assassin’s lifeless hands, then tore a strip of fabric from her dress to fashion a makeshift bandage. Her movements were precise, her focus unwavering as she wrapped the gaping wound across Niles’s abdomen.

Niles, barely able to keep his head upright, chuckled weakly despite the blood staining his lips. “Xemena, please, don’t undress for me. People might get the wrong idea.”

Her expression remained cold as she tightened the bandage. “This isn’t the time for jokes,” she replied curtly. “Besides, it’s easier to move without the excess fabric.”

“There’s always time for jokes,” Niles whispered, though his voice faltered, heavy with pain.

Roy cradled Niles’s upper body, panic flashing in his eyes. “He’s losing too much blood!” he cried.

Gustavus, his hands trembling, summoned a glow of green light. “Healing!” he shouted, casting the spell. The light enveloped Niles, easing his pain but leaving the wound raw and vulnerable.

Niles exhaled sharply and managed to speak. “Leave me here. Fight your way through and escape.”

Around them, the traitorous guards formed a tightening ring, their spears glinting in the faint light. Among them, several pairs of yellow-glowing eyes—Zacharias’s mark—scanned for any sign of resistance. The room was cloaked in near-total darkness, broken only by the flicker of dying candles and the gleam of blood-streaked blades. Cries of pain and pleas for mercy echoed through the massacre.

At the room’s center, Prince Xander stood as the last defense for King Xerxes, his long sword parrying Zacharias’s twin blades with difficulty. Zacharias attacked with an unrelenting fervor, his yellow eyes glinting like a predator’s in the shadows. Behind Xander, Xerxes sat slumped on the ballroom floor, his gaze distant, his spirit fractured. He looked like a man drowning in his own despair, his body asking an unspoken question: Where did I go wrong?

Xemena scanned the chaos, silently praying for the return of the aide she had dispatched to summon the Xargian Guard. But as the moments dragged on and her hopes dwindled, she realized something had gone terribly wrong.

Her eyes shifted to Niles. Despite his injury, his gaze darted through the room, sharp and searching. Finally, he spoke. “Roy,” he commanded, his voice strained but steady. “Use Bombardment.”

Roy froze, his face paling. “What? I can’t control it! I might hit us!”

“It’s our only chance,” Niles replied firmly, exhaling as if to steady himself. “We have to gamble.”

Roy hesitated, then nodded, trusting the determination in Niles’s eyes. With a snap of his fingers, the room changed.

A portal tore open high above the chaos. From it emerged the massive cannon—ancient and foreboding, its surface glowing with veins of energy that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Everyone in the room froze. Nobles, soldiers, assassins—all eyes turned to the ominous weapon as it vibrated, its aim shifting unpredictably. The air grew thick with dread.

Roy, his voice commanding as though taming a wild beast, shouted, “Bombardment!”.

The cannon trembled violently, swaying as if it had a mind of its own. It swung to the side, narrowly avoiding Niles, Roy, Gustavus, Xhiva, and Xemena. Then it fired.

A thunderous roar erupted, shaking the entire ballroom. The cannon’s blast struck near the main exit, obliterating the wall in an explosion of shattered stone and crumbling brick. Several enemies were caught in the devastating impact, their cries silenced instantly as the blast hurled them into the debris. Smoke filled the air like a dense fog, choking the room as fragments of stone and splintered wood rained down.

For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the groans of the injured and the crumbling of loosened stones. Then, through the haze, Niles’s voice emerged, faint but defiant. “That’s our way out,” he murmured.

Prince Xander moved faster than anyone could follow. In one swift motion, he grabbed his father and bolted toward the newly created exit. “Stop them!” Zacharias’s voice rang out like a hunter's call, but the gap in skill between them was insurmountable. Xander evaded incoming slashes with ease, his movements a blur. Once outside, standing atop the rubble cloaked in swirling mist, he hurled his father to safety with a strength that defied reason.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

As Xerxes landed far from the chaos, Xander turned back toward the ballroom, his sharp eyes catching the approaching wave of assassins. “Stop! Don’t attack him there!” Zacharias barked, but his words fell on deaf ears. The enemy surged toward Xander.

His voice thundered above the chaos, commanding the battlefield. “SKILL ACTIVATION: ONE MAN ARMY!”

A blazing scarlet aura erupted from his body, radiating power and menace. It was a skill designed for moments like this, enhancing his stats exponentially when fighting alone. The first wave of assassins reached him, only to be cleaved apart by his long, two-handed blade in a whirlwind of brutal precision.

Xander stood atop the rubble like a defiant wolf, his silhouette stark against the glowing full moon. The pale light illuminated the battlefield, robbing Zacharias’s forces of their night vision advantage. Surviving nobles and guests scrambled to the edges, desperate to avoid the carnage.

“Come, Zacharias! Let’s settle this!” Xander’s voice cut through the smoke like a battle cry. “Coward!” he added, his words dripping with venom meant to provoke.

But Zacharias was no fool. He wasn’t about to face Xander in single combat while One Man Army was active. Xander, for all his power, was visibly fatigued. Blood stained his shredded clothes, and deep scratches lined his arms and torso, evidence of the fierce battle he had fought to protect his father.

Arrows whistled through the air, aimed at Xander, but he swatted them aside like gnats. His blade moved with effortless precision. “Don’t waste your arrows on him!” Zacharias snarled, his slitted, glowing eyes narrowing. Then, with a sharp pivot, he pointed inside the ballroom.

“Use them on him,” he hissed, his finger aimed squarely at Niles.

Niles saw the pointing finger, heard the order, and muttered through gritted teeth, “What a dick! What did I ever do to him?” He wished desperately for his phone, imagining reporting Zacharias to HR for harassment. Xemena, smirking despite the chaos, steadied herself. “You probably foiled his plans,” she replied, her tone grim. “It’s not over yet.”

Xhiva held the battered banquet table before them like a makeshift shield, its surface splintered from previous blows. Arrows rained down, forcing the group to huddle tightly together. But the table wasn’t large enough to cover everyone. A sharp cry split the air as an arrow pierced Niles’s thigh. Pain seared through him, but he clenched his jaw, screaming through the agony. “Screw you, Snake Eyes!”

Zacharias raised his hand, commanding his remaining forces to encircle the group. The survivors, including a small cluster of nobles, huddled near them. Among them was Aldric, Aurelia’s father, though there was no sign of Aurelia herself. Zacharias cast a triumphant glance toward Xander, his expression smug as he declared, “This is the end.”

But before he could give the signal to charge, Niles’s voice rang out: “BARRIER OF DEATH!”

A shimmering blue wall of light materialized between the group and their attackers. It halted the charge, leaving the assassins staring at the barrier with hesitation. “You’re bluffing,” Zacharias sneered. “If you had this kind of power, you would’ve used it earlier.”

Niles, pale and sweating, kept his palm steady. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned here, it’s not to tell strangers about my skills,” he quipped, grinning faintly despite the pain.

Zacharias’s confidence wavered, irritation flashing across his face as he considered the barrier. “I’ll test it myself,” he said coldly, grabbing one of the lanky representatives from the Golden Bank.

“Wait! Let me go! What are you doing?!” the man yelped, squirming in Zacharias’s grip.

“You promised us safe passage!” the smaller, mustachioed banker objected.

Zacharias ignored them both, shoving the taller man through the barrier. The banker clenched his eyes shut, bracing for death. When nothing happened, he opened them cautiously and patted his body. “I’m fine?” he whispered, stunned.

The mustachioed banker sighed in relief. Zacharias glared at Niles. “So you’re nothing but a joker, even now,” Zacharias growled at Niles. “But this is the end for you and this pathetic nation.”

A sudden shout cut through the tension. “SIR NILES!”

All eyes turned toward the source—a court assistant standing atop the rubble near the exit. Behind him, Prince Xander rested against his sword, his pose calm, almost relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world.

“I suspected something was wrong after our last discussion,” Winston called out. “So, I brought reinforcements!”

From the haze emerged soldiers, one by one, wearing the snarling beast helmets of the Xargian Guard. Their arrival sent ripples of fear through Zacharias’s forces, their advantage vanishing with every passing second.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” Zacharias muttered, realization dawning. The moat bridge must never have been raised, allowing the elite troops to cross undeterred.

“Lord Zacharias, we need to retreat!” one of his guards urged.

Zacharias turned back to Niles, his expression a mix of fury and reluctant admiration. “This isn’t over,” he hissed. “The world will hear of how Xandria lured us to this ball to slaughter us. Your reputation will crumble, and the Golden Bank will never stand with you.”

Before anyone could respond, Zacharias turned his twin blades on the bankers themselves. In a single, ruthless motion, he cut them both down. “Shame on you,” he said mockingly, bowing as their bodies fell lifeless. With a flick of his wrist, he signaled his troops to retreat.

The Xargian Guard charged after them, steel clashing as a new battle erupted.

“LEONORA!” Xemena’s voice cut through the chaos.

The soldier with the dragon helm tensed and abandoned the pursuit. “WE HAVE AN INJURED MAN!” Xemena shouted. Leonora rushed to Niles, whose pale complexion and weakening breaths signaled the life slipping from his body.

“Stay awake!” Roy yelled, his voice desperate.

“Delete my search history,” Niles murmured weakly, managing a faint chuckle.

“You idiot! Fight!” Gustavus’s voice cracked as tears filled his eyes.

Leonora knelt beside Niles, her hand glowing faintly as she placed it on his abdomen. “Healing,” she whispered softly. The light enveloped him, knitting torn muscle and sealing his wound. The bleeding stopped, and warmth began to return to Niles’s body.

With newfound strength, Niles whispered, “Please... find Aurelia... and Felix. Make sure they’re safe.” His vision darkened, his body collapsing.

The last thing he saw was the faces of his allies—Xemena, Xhiva, Xander, Winston, Roy, and Gustavus—all shouting his name as he slipped into unconsciousness.