Back at Liam's house…
The remaining line of assassins surged toward Liam with silent fury, blades gleaming, movements swift and ruthless.
Liam's feet shifted instinctively. The moment blurred into chaos.
Steel clashed against flesh, boots scuffed against the floor. Liam ducked under a sweeping strike, countered with a rising knee, then spun low, sweeping another off balance. Every move he made felt instinctive—raw, but sharpened by desperation.
But it wasn't easy.
He took hits. A shallow cut along his arm. A harsh kick to his ribs. His breath hitched, but he didn't fall.
"Faster," he whispered to himself, panting. "Faster… I need to get faster!"
His body burned. Muscles screamed. But he pushed harder.
The assassins struck in tandem now, working like a single organism. Liam's focus tunneled. He moved like flowing wind—unrefined, but unpredictable. Every dodge came closer, every counterstrike hit harder.
One by one, they fell.
And when the last one crumpled to the floor, Liam stood amidst them, bruised, bleeding… but victorious.
His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath. His eyes, though bloodshot, were clear.
"I'm not there yet," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "But I'm getting closer."
From behind, Dreck let out a low whistle. "Messy… but not bad."
Liam turned, exhaustion tugging at his limbs. "I… held my own."
"You did more than that," Dreck said, stepping forward and surveying the carnage. "You danced with death and didn't trip. That's something most trained killers can't claim."
Liam gave a weary smile, blood dripping from his lip. "I'll do better when the rest gets here
Dreck nodded. "Yeah. You will."
Wait, no you're already a mess I'll continue from here.
They're already here
Dreck said
Dreck said calmly, his eyes narrowing as the floor trembled with approaching steps.
Before Liam could fully catch his breath, the windows shattered.
About thirty assassins flooded into the house like a tide of shadows, blades drawn, killing intent thick in the air.
The battle erupted.
Liam roared and charged into the fray, every ounce of strength wrung from his bruised body. He activated Suppression Field—the air around him shifted, pressing down like invisible gravity—and followed with Veil Impact, his body flickering through their lines like smoke clashing against steel.
He struck with raw instinct, dodging low, landing hammering blows, using walls and fallen enemies as leverage. But each movement cost him. His lungs burned, vision swam, and blood dripped freely from a gash above his brow.
Still, he fought.
Close to him Dreck moved like a ghost between storms.
No powers. No flair. Just raw Aether Combat.
Every step, every strike, was clean, lethal, and final. A palm to the chest sent one flying through a wall. A snap kick shattered ribs. He didn't dodge—he dismantled. He moved through the chaos like it bored him, striking with the precision of a master, leaving a trail of unconscious bodies in his wake.
More assassins flooded in.
Five minutes passed. Not because he needed the time—but because he let Liam fight.
Finally, the last assassin fell with a groan, collapsing in a heap.
Silence fell.
The ruined yard was littered with bodies, and blood. Liam dropped to his knees, barely conscious, chest heaving. But he was still alive. Still burning.
Dreck stood in the middle of the wreckage, arms folded, barely winded.
He looked over at Liam.
"You held your own," he said simply. "That's more than I expected."
Liam smirked weakly, eyes fluttering. "Still standing... that counts for something, right?"
Dreck gave a slow nod. "Yeah. It does."
And Liam fell to the ground with a smile on his face.
At kaelas house
twenty assassins swarmed in.
Lucas moved first.
In a blur of motion, he took down six instantly—no wasted movement, just raw aether precision. Blasts of invisible force struck with pinpoint accuracy, bodies crumpling before they even hit the ground.
Kaela's eyes widened in awe.
"Wow…"
But then her gaze hardened. She clenched her fists, lightning sparking faintly across her skin.
"I won't be a burden," she whispered.
And with that, she launched into the fight. Her limbs crackled with energy as she fought through her exhaustion, lashing out with sharp, desperate strikes. Each hit drained her—but she didn't stop.
More assassins flooded in.
But together, they held the line. Lucas was a whirlwind—every movement a fatal strike. Kaela danced around him, slower but determined, lightning streaking from her hands and feet.
The chaos lasted only minutes.
And then—it was over.
The ruined yard was soaked in blood, littered with motionless bodies.
Kaela collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, her aura flickering weakly.
Lucas stood beside her, untouched, calm.