"G-Get him. It's just one noble, and a weak-looking one at that. Just how much can he protect himself against all of us? Let's attack him and get this over with."
One of the attackers yelled before they all quickly surrounded Kyle.
There was strength in numbers. But that was only applicable when both sides had a chance to win. But here? It was a one-sided massacre.
There were almost a dozen attackers, but Kyle did not even look like he broke a sweat fighting against them.
By the time the others woke up, the fight was already over.
Kyle stood in the dimly lit hallway, arms crossed, his face unbothered as unconscious bodies littered the wooden floor.
Their weapons lay scattered, some broken, others coated in blood—not his, but theirs. The faint smell of sweat, metal, and the distinct coppery scent of blood clung to the air.
Melissa was the first to burst from her room, still half-asleep but wide-eyed as she took in the sight before her.
"What's happening—?!"
