The narrow street was eerily quiet except for the distant sound of music bleeding from a rundown bar.
Edrin led the group forward, his twin short swords still sheathed at his sides. Behind him, twenty-nine students moved with varying degrees of confidence and fear.
Lysa had an arrow made of Aura nocked but not drawn, her innate sensory skill scanning everything around them.
Ronan cracked his knuckles, the sound unnaturally loud in the tense silence.
Zavier gripped his spear so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
"There."
Lysa's whisper cut through the tension.
"Six of them. Around the corner. Three have guns, two have knives, one has... I think it's a chain."
Edrin's mind worked rapidly.
"Ronan, you take point with me. Draw their attention. Lysa, find high ground and pick off the ones with guns first. Everyone else, stay behind us and–"
"Well, well, well."
A rough voice interrupted as six figures stepped out from the shadows, blocking the street ahead.
