The twenty faceless assassins moved as one.
There was no battle cry. No hesitation. Just a terrifying, silent wave of black armor and poisoned steel rushing straight toward me.
I gripped the heavy black iron Tessen in my right hand. My heart was pounding so hard it physically hurt my ribs. I had no magic. I was vastly outnumbered. But I planted my feet, kept my center of gravity low, and prepared to take as many of them down with me as I could.
I am not a ghost anymore, I thought fiercely.
The first assassin leaped into the air, his curved dagger aimed perfectly at my throat.
I raised my iron fan.
BOOM!
The deafening explosion didn't come from the assassins. It came from directly behind me.
The heavy, master-locked iron door of the armory suddenly bowed outward. The metal groaned, turning a blinding, white-hot shade of blue. A split second later, the solid iron hinges completely melted, and the massive door was violently blasted off its frame.
