Lucifer did his quiet duty of ensuring none of the assassins had a chance to escape or warn their allies. He borrowed Gabriel's principle and created two portals toward the escapees and squashed their legs like an overly ripe tomato.
Lucifer first materialized beside one and casually stomped on his head like he was extinguishing a cigarette. The second unfortunate soul barely got a breath out before Lucifer's blade turned him into something resembling an abstract painting, with red being the major color — man, that looked extremely similar to "modern art".1
"Red really is the dominant color this season." He muttered to himself. "Maybe I missed my calling as an abstract artist."
He returned to where Isadora was fighting just as she froze another man's thin straight sword and completely crumbled the wooden handle. "Time to get a well-earned cigarette," he lit one and leaned against a tree, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he watched the chaos unfold.
He'd done his part — no escapees, no witnesses, just a couple of abstract art pieces splattered across the grass. Now it was Isadora's turn. He exhaled a plume of smoke and muttered, "Let's see what you've got, Barachiel."
The assassins, seeing as they couldn't do any more surprises, had surrounded her. They did not strike first, instead, they observed her movements. Isadora was even more composed — her eyes darted to every assassin in front of her, and she tried to sense any movements from behind her.
Surprisingly, she did not get attacked from the back, the assassins weren't idiots. They were professionals, cold and calculating, and they moved like they'd been doing this their whole lives. Which, honestly, they probably had.
A chain whip cracked through the air first, its metallic hiss cutting through the silence of inactivity. Isadora dodged, but the whip grazed her arm, leaving a thin line of blood that dripped onto the cobblestones.
Before she could recover, a stick with an ether hammer at the end was on her, the guy with the hammer weapon swinging in a brutal arc aimed at her ribs. She raised her sword, deflecting the blow, but the impact sent her skidding backward, her boots scraping against the ground, a new layer of ice forming in her trail — she still could not control the ethercraft, and she had to do this before the mask's power run out.
The assassins didn't let up. A dagger-wielder darted in from her blind spot, his blade aimed at her kidney. Isadora twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike, but the movement left her open. The spear user took advantage, thrusting his weapon at her chest. She parried with her sword, the clash of ice against steel ringing through the garden, but the force of the attack knocked her off balance.
Isadora gritted her teeth. These weren't amateurs. They were good—too good. She couldn't afford to hold back.
The chain whip came at her again, this time aiming for her legs. Isadora leapt into the air, the whip snapping harmlessly beneath her. As she landed, she swung her sword in a wide arc, sending a wave of icy shards toward the assassins.
The whip user dodged, but the hammer-wielder wasn't fast enough. The shards tore through his light armor, embedding themselves in his chest. He staggered, blood dripping from his wounds, but he didn't fall. Instead, he roared and charged at her again, dragging his hammer across the ground
"How the hell are you an assassin?" She couldn't help but ask. His fighting style was too berserk to be a quiet and stealthy one.
Isadora created another ice crystal in her hand, "Lucifer!" She screamed as she drove the ice toward the hammer guy even though there was a good distance between them.
Lucifer smiled as he let out another puff, a small portal appeared as Isadora ran the icicle through it. The other end of the portal was just before the throat of the hammer guy. She drove her ice spike into the man's throat. He fell to his knees, spitting blood and his eyes wide with shock, before collapsing to the ground.
"Thank you," She said to Lucifer, focusing on the fourteen left. "And I am angry now."
"Like you weren't before," Lucifer murmured and smiled at his own joke.
Isadora let go of her sword, it crumbled just as it hit the ground. The purple eyes truly shined blue now. She could lend anyone's power if the mask had enough power, divine power so to speak, left.
But there was a problem, she could not yet use two principles at once. And that was also why the ice sword lost its durability just as it hit the ground, she switched to one of the observer's principles — extreme strength.
The whip lashed again, but it was another guy this time. Isadora caught it with her gloved hand, the glove ripped open and blood started to pour out, but it did not affect her in the slightest.
She gripped the whip tighter and pulled the man close, he let it go as soon as he understood she was pulling him, but it was too late. Isadora dashed straight toward him with her fists to his face — smashing his skull open.
Before the others could regroup, she kicked one sideways in the gut — splitting his torso apart. She immediately jumped toward two men with fierce eyes, both dodged, but she caught one by his head and threw him against the other guy, taking his sword in the process.
Their heads crashed against each other, blood spilled out, but they did not die. Isadora spun and threw the sword toward their head, it went through one guy's forehead and came out through the other guy's mouth.
One assassin appeared behind her and swung the sword up, but she darted toward the sword she had just thrown and yanked it off their corpse, spinning the blade in a wide arc and deflecting another strike.
The man was thrown off balance and was left wide open, she used the opportunity to pierce his chest, but he rolled to the side, barely dodging the strike. But Isadora paused midway and sliced the guy through his armor and chest.
"Ten," She said calmly as swung the sword, splattering the blood. Her mask stared at her enemies intensely.
The arts with "Deep meaning" with no actual artistic skills, yeah that's the one.