They leaped down from the rooftops all at once, their figures cutting through the night air as they descended toward Ethan with killing intent.
Their movements were swift and precise, the kind born from countless assassinations carried out in silence.
Ethan reacted instantly.
He drove his sword straight into the ground. The moment the blade touched the stone pavement, a sharp metallic sound rang out, and dozens of spectral swords burst upward in a circular formation around him.
They formed a dense defensive wall, their blades overlapping and spinning with violent force.
The assassins' attacks slammed into the sword barrier.
The momentum of their strikes was completely halted. Those whose attacks failed were violently repelled, their bodies flung backward through the air like broken dolls.
They crashed onto rooftops and streets, rolling and skidding across stone, but none of them were injured yet.
This defense alone could not kill them.
