They say luck favors the fools, and it seems they're right. I had done something foolish, and although it was noble and meant to save another, it doesn't negate that my action wasn't the smartest.

The light behind the half-closed shutters of the sweet shop's kitchen could mean a lot. For instance, a servant was late with cleaning, or some ingredient for future pastries required slow cooking throughout the night. The reason could have been anything, but I got lucky - in the kitchen of his shop was none other than its owner. The lanky old man, who claimed to be a retired Wootz rank warrior and whose age nobody in the vicinity could remember. An old man who, as I saw due to my unique ability, actually stood on the highest step of the Spiral of Elevation, on Mithril, and only pretended to be a simple shopkeeper.

As soon as I burst in through the window, a roar sounded behind me. A "Chain Lightning" spell struck the shutters, tearing them off and throwing them into the room. Had I hesitated for just a moment with my jump, my charred carcass would've been left to stink with burnt flesh in the window frame.

Rolling on my back like a seasoned break-dancer, I kicked the prone Aun into a short flight under the nearest bench. Using the momentum I got, I rolled further away from the window.

The shutters, ripped from their rightful places by a Lightning School spell, seemed to fly past the surprised face of old man Wyuan in slow motion. On the edge of my extremely heightened perception, it seemed I noticed a slight movement of the shopkeeper's head. One of the rather heavy shutters was supposed to hit him in the temple but missed by a hair's breadth and flew on. As if scared, the old man threw up his hands, and the large frying pan he held splashed hot oil onto the floor.

At the same time as nearly a liter of oil spread under the windowsill, a pair of young assassins burst through the broken window. Both were at the Iron rank, and their fluid movements indicated fairly good training. While still in mid-jump, each of them curled up, and throwing knives appeared in their hands. A second more - and this lethal weapon would've been hurled towards Aun. But something went wrong...

As soon as the assassins' feet touched the floor, instead of a solid and stable surface, they slipped on the oil. The first one slid only a short distance before hitting the north wall, where, by an "incredible coincidence," a small meat cleaver hung alone on a nail. A fatal misfortune for the young assassin, as he crashed into this cleaver at such an unfortunate angle that he died on the spot with a split skull. The second one was even less fortunate: he, too, lost his footing, slipped, and after scuttling a few steps, headbutted right into the open furnace. The oven seemed to have been waiting for this, and the massive baking sheet resting on it shifted from the impact and fell on top, trapping the young assassin's head in the hot coals. A very, very unpleasant and painful death.

Following the young assassins, the patriarch of their small clan burst through the window. Unlike the inexperienced youngsters, he assessed the situation while still in the air. From his left hand, he hurled a "Straight Lightning" towards Aun, and from his right palm, he released an "Air Wave" beneath his feet, thus avoiding the spilled oil.

The power put into the "Straight Lightning" spell by the Sapphire warrior-mage should have killed Aun instantly. However, due to an unbelievable "coincidence," the path of this magic happened to cross with the very frying pan that old man Wyuan had let go and thrown high in the air just as the "Chain Lightning" blew off the shutters.

Following their elder, the last pair of assassins burst through the window. To ensure they wouldn't slip upon landing, the patriarch used Air magic to clear the floor of the spilled oil. All this while, it seemed like the shopkeeper stood like a statue, frozen in place, unsure of what to do. And the two assassin corpses in his kitchen were simply the result of a strange cascade of coincidences. Once this "stupor" passed, the old man simply stepped back, grazing a cupboard behind him and thus causing a couple of large sacks of flour to fall onto the floor. They immediately burst, filling the entire kitchen with a cloud of flour dust.

The Bronze fighter, ignoring the old man and Aun, charged at me straight away. At the same time, the Sapphire warrior-mage formed a "Ball Lightning" at his fingertips. The Steel warrior unsheathed his sword and judging by his movement, he intended to kill the shopkeeper first, who simply happened to be in his way.

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What happened next occurred almost simultaneously. Seeing that the old man was about to be killed, Aun dashed to his aid, and, realizing he wouldn't make it in time, he simply decided to shield the shopkeeper with his own body. The boy managed to swing his dagger, but the Steel warrior evaded this attack from the Iron fighter without any effort. Well, he almost did. The blade in Aun's hand passed a centimeter from the face of the dodging assassin, but in doing so, a bloody slash of an unexpected cut crossed the Steel warrior's cheek. However, the wound inflicted by an instinctively performed "Wind Blade" was not severe. The slash of the stranger's sword was about to instantly cut down both the inadequate savior and the one he was trying to protect. The movements of a Steel fighter were swift and precise...

The patriarch of the assassin clan, correctly assessing the situation, turned his palm towards me. "Ball Lightning" tore from his fingers...

The young Bronze assassin, in a low sliding, was already prepared to strike me when I felt the flour dust, which had already filled the entire kitchen space, become saturated with foreign energy. The only thing I managed was to yell instinctively, without addressing anyone specifically:

"Down!" And I curled up into a ball.

The "Ball Lightning" tore from the patriarch's fingers, and the small discharges emanating from this sparkling ball ran through the flour suspension hanging in the air. Clenching my ears, I opened my mouth and froze.

The blast was so strong that even bracing myself and blocking my ears didn't help. For almost ten seconds, I lost my bearings. A volumetric explosion in a confined space caused by the detonation of flour dust from the magic of Lightning is no joke. My serious injuries were averted by the body of the Bronze killer, who had been about to attack me a moment before the explosion. He was far less fortunate: he was right between me and the "Ball Lightning." So, when I could focus my gaze, the first thing I saw were his lifeless, glassy eyes staring blankly at the wall.

The Steel warrior was also dead. The shockwave had thrown him aside, flinging him onto a recently overturned stool. One of the legs had "fortunately" met his neck, breaking through his throat. The sword he had just been holding was now embedded in the ceiling in another corner of the kitchen.

Of the three assassins, only the clan patriarch survived the explosion. He was severely stunned, yet he even managed to stay on his feet. There was not a single burn or bruise on him despite facing the full power of the volumetric detonation of flour dust head-on. The Sapphire warrior-mage, despite his age, proved that killing him was not easy.

However, even that turned out to be a misconception.

The elder of the assassins took a step forward, but his clothes caught on the cupboard door behind him and dragged the furniture along. The cupboard, which stored the cutlery - knives, forks, wrought skewers, and so on - swayed and began to fall onto the patriarch of the clan. Without even looking back, the one on the Sapphire step waved his hand, creating an "Air Wall" behind him. The spell was supposed to throw all falling objects and the furniture itself back. But it didn't. The magic didn't work correctly for some reason, and at least a dozen knives and forks fell onto the assassin's back. Such a trifle could not cause any harm, unlike a pair of skewers that fell with the cupboard and, pushed by the substantial weight of the furniture, impaled the patriarch's back. The Sapphire warrior-mage arched, tilting his head back from the unexpected barrage of blows from behind. His lips opened in a cry of pain, and then the sword of the Steel warrior, the one that, due to the flour dust explosion, had been embedded in the ceiling a few seconds ago, shaken loose by the fall of the cupboard, came down. Not even a Sapphire warrior-mage could survive that. No one can stomach a strip of tempered steel thrust up to the hilt into their mouth.

Only a few fleeting seconds had passed since the assassins had stormed into the sweetshop kitchen, and now all the attackers were dead. They had seemingly perished due to a series of incredibly unfortunate events. Meanwhile, I, along with Aun and the frail-looking shop owner, hadn't received a single scratch, which was also, of course, another "fortunate coincidence." Accidents do happen, especially when a Mithril fighter is orchestrating them! And the fact that I hadn't detected any manipulation on the part of the cunning old man was not indicative of anything. The disparity between our ranks was too vast for me to notice anything.

Shrugging off the dead body, I rose to my feet, dusted off my clothes, and looked around the nearly completely devastated kitchen.

"Outrageous!" A high-pitched elderly yell cut through the air. "And who's going to pay for all this damage?! I ask you, little ruffians!!!" With these words, the old man tugged Aun by the ear, hoisting the boy off the floor.

Meeting the old man's gaze, I swallowed the lump in my throat and quietly said:

"Maybe they will?" My palm pointed towards the dead bodies.