Quickly throwing herself into a backwards roll, avoiding an enormous fireball that left a smoking crater in a nearby wall, Nyx realised she had been pushed all the way back to the overturned carriage and released a string of curses.

However, just as she believed she was about to be turned into a mincemeat pincushion, Nyx discovered the constant stream of projectiles, both magical and physical, had reduced significantly allowing her to recover her stance.

Even so, that did not mean the attacks had stopped, and Nyx soon felt her movements and options suppressed as she was continuously hounded by an endless barrage.

Nyx's eyes flashed with murderous intent, realising that her assailants, while not caring if they injured her, had no intention of claiming her life.

A feral snarl, one more suited to a caged wild beast, appeared on her face as Nyx continued to dodge, deflecting those she couldn't get with the small dagger, in a much more graceful manner than the knight earlier.

However, even though her movements would put a veteran to shame, her appearance was anything but impressive.

Her once beautiful blue dress, now stained with blood, and white, elbow-length gloves had been torn, cut and burnt in places, giving her an almost pathetic, dishevelled appearance as she ducked, span and threw her self around without respite.

To a casual observer, it looked like Nyx was in dire straights, only barely managing to keep her life, but to the trained eye, they would be amazed at how Nyx was using the smallest movements and energy to avoid any crippling or fatal injuries.

However, even though she had been suppressed to the point where she could only dodge, not giving her the opportunity to look for an escape route, Nyx wasn't feeling any sense of danger or killing intent behind the attacks, making her all the more nervous and enraged.

"Want to capture me alive?" growled Nyx, deflecting an arrow with the now chipped dagger as she righted herself after performing a handstand. "You better hope you can afford the price."

Nyx attempted to move around the carriage, however, it seemed that there were opponents on the other side and unable to defend her front and back at the same time, as well as the increase of projectiles in the air, she was once again forced back to her original position.

Suddenly, blurred movement at the edges of her peripheral, accompanied by a blood-curdling scream, drew Nyx's attention.

Between the bright, unnaturally so, small fires and plumes of smoke Nyx could see vague, almost otherworldly humanoid shadows, cutting through the survivors like a hot knife would cut through butter.

Turning her head to get a better look, the moment of distraction resulting in an arrow cutting a thin, red line and leaving behind a burning sensation across her thigh as she barely avoided serious injury, Nyx's pupils contracted violently.

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Without hesitation, Nyx started aggressively circulating the dark energy within her body, absorbing as much pure essence from her surroundings in a desperate manner.

Even though the light of the burning fires was pushing back and corrupting the dark essence in the area, making her abilities and skills almost useless as if they had been purposefully created to restrain her, a mist-like smoke started to twist its way to Nyx as black, vein-like lines spilt from her iris and into her pupils. "Death Berserkers."

However, Nyx didn't pay the phenomenon that appeared around her any attention as she continued to dodge while watching the figures rapidly approaching her position.

As they got closer, Nyx could clearly see the figures were wearing, ugly, black leather armour that provided the minimal amount of defence while allowing maximum flexibility. Their weapons, normally daggers or throwing knives, were covered in an eerie, green glow, the sign of high-quality poison and their technique could only be described as that of a beserker.

They seemed to fear neither death or pain, charging into their enemies and overwhelming them without pity or remorse.

A cold shiver, causing the hairs on the back of Nyx's neck and arms to stand on end and a growing terror to rise from the depths of her soul, coursed across Nyx's body.

Having been one for so long, before being promoted to an assassin and unwilling test subject, Nyx was intimately familiar with death beserkers and their methods. They were the core troops, those used when the terror and fear of a couple of deaths were not enough, of her supposedly deceased master.

She had aggressively forced herself to believe that the technique she had witnessed earlier was only similar to her master's, yet after seeing the advancing warriors, Nyx couldn't help but feel as if she had been dropped into an icy river.

"There is no such thing as coincidences," muttered Nyx as she was slowly forced into the corner where she had previously crawled out from under the carriage. While the anger and ferociousness in her voice were still apparent, it was now much more diluted, almost containing a hint of despair.

With fear slowly creeping into her eyes, the emotional mask she had worn starting to crack, Nyx watched powerlessly as the beserkers washed over the remaining survivors, including the remaining knights in power armour, without any sign of slowing down.

However, just as she feared, the moment they got within a few dozen meters of the carriage, they stopped, the rest of them continuing around and ensuring that even if she could work her way to the back of the carriage, she wouldn't have a place to escape to.

The sounds of men and women pleading for mercy, only to be followed by their death screams, resonated around the immediate surroundings that had slowly turned quiet while in the distance, the sound of combat, accompanied by a few explosions could still be heard.

Nyx stopped dodging, the ranged attacks no longer targeting her, and stood in a defensive pose as she lightly panted.

She could only regret that she had spent so much energy trying to escape the previous night and when she fought the old woman earlier. However, even with such thoughts, Nyx knew it wouldn't have helped her. Not only was she considerably weaker than her foes, who were able to kill Gem ranked cultivators in power armour with ease, but she was also severely outnumbered.

However, even with the situation appearing so grim, Nyx did not give up hope.

After so many lives, she had come to understand that, until one's final breath, nothing was set in stone. -"If I survive this, I must make this body stronger. Being a foundation core cultivator in this world is nothing more than an ant in a lion's den and without strength, how will I ever reach my goals and obtain peace."

"One, Two Nyx is coming for you~." An eerie, masculine voice, filled with the image of unimaginable power, resonated from the sky, causing Nyx to hesitantly look up, instantly recognising the haunting laugh that followed the words that she had once spoken to the fat man as she chased him from the underground dungeon.