The survivors hadn't moved. They stood frozen at the far end of the courtyard, weapons still raised but hands trembling. Fear painted their faces in stark relief, the professional masks they'd worn at the battle's start completely shattered.
Liam took a step forward.
That single movement broke whatever spell had held them in place. Three assassins bolted, abandoning their companions without hesitation as they sprinted for the side exits. The rest charged, desperation overcoming their terror in a final, futile assault.
Twelve Foundation Establishment assassins rushed him in a ragged formation, all coordination abandoned in favor of raw survival instinct. They attacked with the frenzy of cornered animals.
A woman reached him first, her twin short swords moving in a blur as she channeled everything she had into a desperate flurry of strikes. The blades came from every angle, seeking any opening and any hope of landing a killing blow.
