The assassins started to hesitate. They were not used to this, their roles was being switched. Being seen. Being hunted.
For many years, they had dictated the flow of battle, they were used to striking from the darkness, fading away before retaliation. But this? This was just chaos for them.
One of them, who was a lean warrior covered in dark robes, had gritted his teeth. His fingers were twitching around the hilt of his dagger.
"Don't worry. We still have the advantage," he had whispered to his comrades. "He's just one man."
A second assassin came out, though he was barely visible in the smoke, had responded.
"No," he had said in a grim tone. "That is not a man."
They both turned around to look at Heuk Cheon.
He was smiling.
A slow and deliberate smile that was able to send a shiver down their spines.
Then he started to move.
A flash of steel.
Before the first assassin could even react, his arm was already separated from his body. It was gone.
