In that instant, as Alistair shoved Alya aside with a palm strike infused with faint protective aura, he leaned back in a fluid motion.
A razor-sharp flying shuriken aura, a streak of cold killing intent, whistled past where his throat had been a breath earlier, embedding itself deep into the distant hall wall with a resounding clang that shattered stone and sent cracks spiderwebbing outward.
"AHHHHH!" Alya shrieked as her body was hurled backward through the air, arms flailing, white gown billowing wildly.
Yet before she could crash heavily upon the floor, a pair of strong arms caught her from behind.
She stumbled, gasping, and twisted around in shock, only to find herself staring up at a red-haired young man she'd never seen before.
He offered her a gentle smile as he steadied her, his features handsome enough to stir the hearts of maidens across ten thousand miles.
'Where did he even come from?' she wondered, eyes wide with mesmerized awe. And why is everyone in this world so unfairly good-looking? And he just saved me…'
A shy smile curved her lips in return, but instinct drew her eyes toward the far end of the grand hall where eight black-robed figures shrouded in concealment masks abruptly manifested from void-like shadows, each gripping a gleaming weapon.
Her beautiful eyes widened in alarm. "Huh…?"
She turned again only to find the red-haired savior had vanished.
When her gaze snapped back toward Alistair, there he stood, poised directly before Alistair, and a cluster of Supreme Domain warriors, feet planted in an immovable protective stance, robes fluttering as though stirred by an invisible wind.
"What is going on here?" Alya murmured, voice quivering.
The gathered cultivators and nobles in the hall had already risen to their feet, faces pale with dread.
One among them cried out in panic:
"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!!!"
The words had scarcely left his lips when a flash of sword light slit his throat in a single clean line. Blood sprayed like crimson plum blossoms in winter.
Alya let out a sharp yelp, horror freezing her in place.
Then chaos erupted.
The once-orderly hall turned into a mad stampede as everyone fled for their lives, only to slam against invisible barriers of sealing array aura that blocked every exit.
Alistair's jaw clenched tight.
He stood motionless, eyes fixed upon the masked assassins who remained eerily still, their killing intent coiling like black serpents.
Halwin shot to his feet, fear flashing across his usually composed features. Geoffrey immediately stepped in front of him, sword half-drawn, body angled protectively.
Kafel, too, flickered, disappearing in a blur of movement technique before reappearing directly before Alya, shielding her.
"Master, what's going on here?" Her voice trembled, laced with fear.
Kafel glanced back, shaking his head in grave bewilderment. "I know not."
Yet Alistair remained perfectly calm, his gaze never wavering from the black-masked killers whose auras reeked of hidden realm hostility and paid assassination.
At last he spoke:
"Very well," he said. "You've made your point."
He tilted his head slightly, silver ring catching the light as his fingers turned it once.
"You're here to kill me."