There was a street in the south-east of Phoenix, filled with shops and stalls throughout the day. The city’s leadership took it upon themselves to pave this road with cobblestones, and even to mark a portion near the buildings with different colored stones, so carriages and people wouldn’t cross paths.

As for vegetation, people found it annoying. Trees and bushes would have taken up spots which could’ve been used for stalls; so, besides an old willow tree that had been there since the city was a tiny village, everything else had been removed.

Weirdly enough, over time, people became rather fond of their one piece of green in the entire trading district. Even now, in the middle of the night, a group of merchant apprentices huddled around it as if trying to protect it from an imminent threat.

All around them, there were cut and bloodied masked bodies, and a bit further away, in the middle of the street, three unknown teens were preparing to fight with their backs to each other.

“This is stupid,” Michael complained. “We’re out in the open.”

“We’re keeping the enemies away from the civilians,” said Tommy. “I agree with Natalie’s decision.”

Tommy had taken his usual high stance, but his gaze was locked on those near the tree.

“Clear your mind,” said Natalie. “Take a deep breath.”

She closed her eyes, and a moment later, the other two did the same. With her rapier by her side, Natalie listened to the wind.

A moment later, she heard someone step on mud nine feet to her left. The merchants gulped 30 feet to her right. The rustling of clothes could be heard in the front, and somehow, her head suddenly felt lighter.

Natalie’s rapier bolted up, slicing the arm of a killer that was sneaking behind her. The man fell on his back, rolling and wailing, while a chunk from Natalie’s ponytail fell on the road.

Again, she closed her eyes.

Her feet were shoulder-width apart. Her sword was pointed to the ground. Except for the placement of her sword, her stance was identical to Tommy’s.

‘Wait; do not pursue the enemy, but strike with utmost strength.’’

While she dealt with the next assassin, Tommy too felt a sting on his back. He turned like lightning, but midway through the strike, something cut into his left shoulder too.

There were two assassins attacking at the same time from opposite directions. Tommy had no counter for such a situation, as his one sword style focused on strong, decisive, singular blows. Fortunately, Michael did.

Remembering their training from the past few days, Tommy jumped towards the killer in the front. The killer’s knife dug deep into his shoulder while he sliced his torso in half. Tommy then grabbed the corpse’s arm and swung the dismembered upper body into the other assassin’s face. The finishing blow soon followed, and Tommy turned his attention towards someone else.

His flailing of the killer’s torso had sprayed guts and blood all over the place. Several assassins had been revealed, and Michael had to dodge a flying piece out of a lung.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” While Tommy continued his conquest, a grinning Michael went to grab some body parts off the ground. However, a couple of steps before his destination, the boy felt a knife touch his back.

He quickly moved out of the way, then turned and shattered the killer’s spine with a round-house kick. Yet, as soon as he finished the blow, another blade pierced through his neck, so he grabbed the new assassin’s hand and punched him so hard the man’s skull cracked.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Not a second later, two more assassins attacked at once, and he dispatched them both with utmost brutality. However, as he took out the second killer, a third aimed for his legs. While he dodged the attack, a couple of arrows flew towards his chest, forcing the boy to retreat.

“Focus,” said Natalie while walking towards him. The girl swung towards Michael's left, and blood sprayed on the street. She then swung to his right, and an assassin fell while holding onto his throat. The girl's eyes were forward, her movements were minimal.

“Do you need help?”

“You’re hot, I mean no.” Michael shook his head. “I got this.”

The words had barely left his mouth when an arrow flew towards his chest. Natalie cut it out of the air.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, damn it. Just protect your behind.”

While the girl turned to deal with an attacker, another killer tried to slice the brawler. However, this time around, instead of trying to one-shot him, Michael pulled him forward, and with the edge of his palm, he tried to cut his throat like Natalie had done with the arrow. The strike was infinitely weaker than his usual punches and kicks, but against a normal opponent with minimal knowledge of the warrior’s breath, it was an instant K.O.

“Ha, this might actually work.” Michael took a tall, swordsman’s stance. He pointed one open palm towards the ground like Natalie’s rapier, and the other towards the sky like Tommy’s longsword.

At a glance, he looked ridiculous, but when four assassins attacked all at once, Michael dispatched them in less than a second. He dislocated the first one’s jaw with a chop and pushed a knife hand straight through the second one’s chest. He broke the third one’s forearm before crushing his Adam’s apple, and he tried to slice the fourth one in half like Tommy, only to end up breaking half of his ribs.

“Hmph,” Michael frowned. “Mark my words, I will cut one of you.”

What followed was a full on massacre. Between Michael’s ‘swordsmanship,’ Tommy’s newfound ferocity, and Natalie’s brutally efficient blows, the assassins’ assault was falling apart.

Their leader, a beastman covered in black from head to toe, watched the fight from the back, drenched in sweat and biting his tongue in in frustration.

‘If only the higher ranks were here… Those fucks are hiding while we’re getting mauled.’

An assassin approached him. “Boss, we should flee.”

“We can’t leav’em alive, you idiot. They’ve killed most of our men; leave and the lion's gonna eat you too.”

There were less than fifty assassins left. As expendable pawns, their group was only afforded the bare necessities, to the point were only three of them had crossbows.

Still, as their leader, the chief did enjoy preferential treatment. As a last resort, the man dug into his chest-pocket and pulled out a small, orange crystal.

“Here.” He gave it to his lackey and pointed at the teens. “Run into the middle of’em and bust this on the ground.”

“But…”

The boss put a knife between his subordinate's ribs. “Move.”

With no other choice, the lackey ran forward. He jumped over his fallen comrades, and to increase his chances of survival, he tried to sneak in between the girl and the guy with the gauntlets.

He walked slowly to make sure he didn’t make any noise. He was careful not to step in puddles or on corpses.

Soon, he got past the two teens and almost reached his target. ‘Just a bit more.’

“Throw it, you fuck’n moron!”

Distracted by his boss’ words, the killer froze on the spot. Worse yet, the teens took heed of the boss’ shout and retreated into a tighter formation. Inevitably, their backs hit the unfortunate assassin, and the hunched over man let out a squeal.

Two blades cut into his back while his skull was bashed open by a gauntlet. The assassin lost consciousness and released the grip on the crystal. The object fell and hit a cobblestone. A wave of white light spread all around it, and the assassin stopped falling halfway towards the ground.

The killer was dead, his body was chopped to pieces, and his skull was bashed open. However, the bits still lingered in midair. No guts had fallen out of the body and even his blood looked frozen.

As for those responsible for the deed, they were all stuck in awkward positions. Not one of them could move. Not one of them could even blink. Yet, they could still hear.

“Bring me a crossbow,” said the chief assassin. “I’ll finish this myself.”