As the old man scrambled to safety, the grains of sand from the storm outside crashed through the window with the force of a cannonball, wearing old fools left hand and sending Moh and the guards careening into the dining area on the first floor.

The impact knocked all three down. Moh was the first to rise, his adrenaline surging. As the guards scrambled to their feet, he shouted in excitement, “Come on already!” With a dramatic flourish, he spread his arms, summoning two whip-like tendrils of sand into the air.

The shorter guard grabbed his spear while the more heavily built one hefted his mace and shield. They charged at Moh, who strolled confidently toward them, waiting until they were within striking distance. With a quick, fluid spin, he launched his first attack. The sand whips struck the tanky guard first, cracking his shield, then whipped around to slam into the shorter guard, sending him sprawling to the side.

Moh continued his spin, executing a one-handed strike at the tanky guard, cleaving the mace in two and creating another fissure in his shield.

The tanky guard, unyielding as stone, charged at Moh, slamming into him with his shield and sending Moh crashing into the far side of the room. Moh barely landed on his feet, shaking his head vigorously to clear the daze from the force of the blow. Just as he regained his balance, the shorter guard rushed him from behind, thrusting his spear. Moh rolled to the right, avoiding a critical hit but receiving a glancing scratch from the weapon’s edge.

As he fell, Moh spun around, using the momentum to strike the shorter guard with his whip, slicing through the guard’s left arm.

Seeing the tanky guard readying to throw his shield at him, Moh reacted instinctively, using the sand from one of his whips to propel himself upward. He landed deftly on his feet just in time to unleash a burst of sand from his other whip, striking the shield mid-flight and shattering it into pieces.

Now on his feet, Moh noticed the guards regrouping. He winced as a wave of pain coursed through him, a reminder of the toll his powers were taking. The shorter guard's pain throbbed alongside his own, intensifying his frustration.

“A pain-cursed royal guard, heh, What a pain.” Moh whispered to himself, a smirk creeping onto his face despite the situation.

Knowing he preferred to keep his opponents at a distance, he quickly conjured two shorter whips of sand. With a newfound resolve, he charged at the guards, ready to engage them in close combat.

The shorter guard rushed at Moh from the side, attempting to flank him, while the tanky one held his ground, bracing for Moh’s assault.

In an instant, Moh stopped, his instincts kicking in. He swiftly combined both of his sand whips to create a larger, more powerful whip that could reach the tanky guard from where he stood. With a fierce shout, he lashed the whip at the tanky guard, who absorbed the blow head-on, unfazed by the attack.

Moh quickly divided the whip back into two, turning just in time to face the shorter guard, now dangerously close. With a swift motion, he caught the spear with his left hand, redirecting its point away from him. Using the momentum, he yanked the guard closer, gathering the sand from one whip in his right hand. He unleashed it like a cannonball, striking the shorter guard square in the face.

The impact launched the guard back, slamming him against the wall. Moh spun around, ready to finish off the tanky guard, but to his surprise, the guard was right in front of him, lifting him off the ground by the neck and squeezing tightly.

Desperation surged through Moh as he wrapped the sand from his whip around the guard's legs. With a fierce exertion of will, he crushed the guard’s legs, sending a shock of pain through the tanky figure. Moh dropped to his feet, but the guard still clung to his throat, the grip tightening like a vise.

In a moment of grim realization, Moh noticed the shorter guard rising again, half of his face mangled, poised to throw his spear and finish him off. “Come on, die already,” Moh whispered through gritted teeth. He relinquished the tanky guard's grip and, with a swift movement, grabbed his dagger with his right hand.

As he did, a thin layer of sand whirled into action, slicing through the air to decapitate the shorter guard in a blur of motion. Meanwhile, the surrounding sand transformed into deadly projectiles, piercing the tanky guard like a volley of spears. With a final, anguished gasp, the guard released Moh’s neck and collapsed to the floor.

The bar fell eerily silent, but the tranquility didn’t last long.