Member Number Three IV: The Fall Of A King

The guards charged forward, their weapons gleamed under the light from the chandelier.

They were fast and attacked with experience from years of endless training and practice.

But to Ryuen, they were slow. Predictable. Weak.

He moved like a shadow, weaving between them effortlessly, like it was nothing.

A sword came for his throat—he ducked.

A spear jabbed at his ribs—he sidestepped.

With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his dagger and attacked back.

He sliced through flesh, muscle, and armor as if they were paper.

A guard then decided to swing a massive axe, aiming to cut Ryuen in two.

Their main aim was to kill him or hurt him enough to pull him to his feet.

But Ryuen caught the motion out of the corner of his eye.

Before the metal could touch him, he exhaled softly, and the room turned cold.