An intense wave of heat washed over Nyx, even though Harold was laying over her in an attempt to shield her body from any harm, as the exploding talismans violently rocked the open top carriage.

Harold didn't realise how close to death he had just come as he held Nyx close, fearing that some of the burning debris that was bouncing off his armour, would miss him and hit his sister.

To Nyx, who wasn't used to the care and concern of others, his actions initially seemed like an attack. After realising that Harold was actually trying to protect her, without a moment to spare, Nyx had stopped the shadow-clad hand, looking more like a demon's than a human's, from instinctively piercing his throat and ending his life.

Screams of pain, shock and terror from both the civilians and the guards erupted almost as violently as the explosions drowning out the royal knight's call to arms as they attempted to protect themselves from the talismans that continued to rain down while moving towards the carriage.

A confused, somewhat alien feeling bubbled up from the depths of Nyx's soul, yet it was quickly forgotten as the violently shaking of the carriage came to an abrupt end when one of the last talismans exploded next to the wheels, flipping it high into the air and towards the stone wall of a nearby building.

As the cart slammed into the wall, almost tilted all the way onto its back, Nyx and Harold followed with the momentum and crashed into the floor.

Harold took most of the brunt from the impact and was instantly knocked out, while Nyx was relatively unscathed, just having the wind knocked out of her lungs and a few scratches.

Finally managing to take a deep breath, Nyx shook her head in an attempt to regain her senses as she disengaged from the tangle of limbs the pair had fallen into. After pushing Harold closer to the wall, Nyx crawled closer to the triangular opening caused by how the carriage was propped up on one side by the wall.

Near the gap, Nyx was forced to shift the badly mutilated body of the old carriage driver aside, seemingly hit by flying shrapnel before being crushed into the cobblestone ground, his blood quickly soaking into Nyx's dress.

Ignoring the gore she was crawling through, an experience that would make most vomit or faint, Nyx moved forward and cautiously looked out of the gap, her eyes narrowing as a dangerous air started to emanate from her petite body.

The once smooth street and pristine, regal-looking buildings had been devastated in no more than a moment. Body parts, mixed with the rubble from the road and buildings, littered the ground as small fires billowed plumes of black smoke into the gloomy sky above.

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Nearly all of the guards, as well as those who had come to see the prince and princess had been killed or were seriously injured. Only a few, no more than a couple of dozen guards were staggering towards the carriage.

From the looks of the surrounding devastation, Nyx quickly summarised that the majority of the talismans were high level, at least gem ranked. Something so expensive that even a single one could be exchanged for a small dwelling.

Ignoring the growing concern over who would want her dead so much that the wealth of a small nation had been expended, Nyx's gaze was drawn to the hulking armours that were slowly approaching her.

Even with power armour, only three of the knights were still able to stand, their swords unsheathed and shields held high as they ignored their injuries and made their way to the overturned carriage.

Even though they hadn't been targeted by the talismans to the same extent, the standard guardsmen, their armour far more inferior than their royal counterparts, hadn't fared much better. Most of those not dead had missing limbs or suffered injuries so server, it was unlikely they would survive the night.

Those that were still somewhat able, while most had been retired soldiers, were not mentally prepared for such an unmerciful surprise attack and had fallen into the same confusion and disarray as the surviving civilians.

The scene was horrifying, looking more akin to a war zone than a city street but instead of panic or fear, Nyx's expression quickly set into her standard, lifeless mask. The varied emotions that had gradually appeared during the previous week vanishing without a trace.

Pushing herself back, believing it was to analyse the information she had just gathered before she made a move, Nyx subconsciously checked Harold's condition.

Finding he was in no immediate danger, the worst injuries being light cuts to his head and hands, along with some small burns, and the significant bump caused by his collision with the wall that had rendered him unconscious, Nyx rolled Harold into a recovery position and quickly moved back to the opening.

It was safe to say that Nyx was no stranger to the terrors of battle and war. While she hadn't experienced them as much as the shadowy underworld of assassination, she had often been forced to skirt the most dangerous and bloody battlefields to locate and eliminate her targets.

As such, even though she checked Harrold's health, something she would never have done in the past, Nyx fell into her old mindset and immediately looked to extract herself from the area.

Even if Nyx didn't believe she was the intended target, something she felt was almost a sure, Nyx would never fight in such a disadvantageous situation unless she had no other choice.

This desire to escape was only intensified as Nyx realised that her goals, unlike before where she had been forced to eliminate a target no matter the cost, required her to survive.

Having already looked at the surrounding situation when she peeked earlier, Nyx had identified many possible escape routes and, without giving it a moment's thought, started to pull herself out from the carriage, her eyes constantly scanning for any signs of danger.

As she pulled her legs free of the carriage, her dress caked in blood that wasn't her own, a slightly singed, hulking silver armoured knight reached the wreckage.

"I have the princess," roared a deep, booming voice, causing Nyx to frown in displeasure. Knowing that not only her position, but that she was alive, was now known not just to the knights and guards, but the enemy hidden in the shadows.