Katrin threw up her hands in elation.

"How the hell did you do that!?"

Finde gave a shy laugh.
“During the fight with Yano, I saw the red flag tied to his belt.
Waited for the right moment.
Ripped it off while we were tied to the ground.
Took a few nasty elbows to the back—but it was worth it.”

Katrin laughed and threw her arms around him.
“You were incredible, Finde. Really.”

He blushed.
“I mean… I just got lucky. If Yano had hit harder…”

“Shh. Look at the scores.”
She tapped her wristband. The dark screen lit up:

Black Team –3
Red Team –1
White Team +4
Blue Team 0

“Fantastic! We’re in the lead!” she cheered.

Finde nodded. “That’s why you need to stay here.
Your knee’s a problem, but you can guard our points.
Keep the flag safe until the tournament ends.”

Katrin sighed softly, then smiled.
“Fine. But you—be careful.”

He nodded, turning to leave the cave.
Then paused.

“Oh, Kat… do you have any white fabric? A shirt maybe?”

“Yes, under my jacket. Why?”

Finde explained what he needed.

The group led by May, and the one with Guster, finally caught sight of the Blue Team’s base.

“Damn it—they’re all holed up in there!” Nefer cursed.

They slowed. The wind of Castor hissed through the rocks, whipping up clouds of dust.

“I say we attack head-on,” May ordered firmly.
“Blacks, take the left flank—Kleus’s side.
We Whites, the right—where Serbice is.”

Her tone was calm, authoritative.

Guster grinned.
“Agree. Sound the charge.”

Gozen was crouched behind a small rocky outcrop.
Below him lay the Blue Team’s base.
From up there he could see everything clearly: the blues were at full strength, still guarding their base.

For a moment, Gozen had considered heading north toward the Whites.
But the idea of taking a flag from an entire team… electrified him.

He was weighing the best strategy when he saw May approaching with three of his own.
And with them—unthinkable—Guster, Bulk, and Nefer.

What the hell are those idiots doing? he thought.

He sank even lower, deciding to wait.
Moments later, May and his guys sprang at the blues’ right flank.
At the same time, Guster, Bulk, and Nefer crashed into the left.

Battle erupted.
May crossed blades with a blue warrior, dropped him, then searched for Serbice—who, of course, accepted the challenge.
The whites Gill, Ancer, and Luke met the enemies charging them.

On the left, the blacks Guster, Nefer, and Bulk each faced a blue worrior.
Three against three.
Guster had to face Kleus.

Among the attackers, Gill of the Whites fell first—a blow to the nape from Eremus put him out cold.
Eremus then sprinted to help Lugrek, who was engaged with Ancer.

It took Gozen only seconds to understand May was in trouble.
Serbice was formidable. Probably the best after him and Yano.
But he lacked backbone.
Always hesitant, always unsure.
And hesitation, for a warrior, is defeat.

Serbice... The arena’s greatest waste of talent, Gozen thought.

He shifted his gaze to the left.
Guster, on the other hand, was holding up well against Kleus.
The fights between Blacks and Blues looked more balanced.

Gozen studied him more closely.
Guster was perhaps the most inscrutable of the recruits.
Sometimes just a chatterbox, better with words than with a blade.
Other times, he surprised everyone with skill and intelligence.

He gave the impression of not being able to excel at anything.
And yet… when he truly committed, he seemed like he was capable of it.
Like right now.
He seemed to be the only one with a full view of the battlefield: trading blows with Kleus, keeping tabs on Nefer and Bulk, and, at the same time, tracking the clash between Whites and Blues on the opposite front.

Not bad, Guster. Not bad. Let’s see how you handle what’s next.

Ancer managed to drop Eremus, but Lugrek used his distraction to strike him between nose and brow, flooring him.
Ancer won’t be getting up before this tournament ends, Gozen thought.

Luke of the Whites eliminated his opponent, but he was limping badly: his right leg was almost useless.
The blue Lugrek, left without an opponent after knocking down Ancer, headed towards him to face him..
Luke didn’t yield.
He hit Lugrek’s shoulder, but in the end was overwhelmed by a blow to the chest and a punch to the face.

Now, on the right, only May stood against Serbice and Lugrek.
The last White still in play.
Gozen knew he wouldn’t be for long.

May bled from his brow, his upper lip split, his left elbow dislocated.
Lugrek closed in to finish him, but Serbice stopped him with a gesture.
Gozen couldn’t hear the words but understood: “Go help the others. I'll take care of it here.”

Good call, Serbice, he thought.
But if I’d been there in May’s place, would you have refused Lugrek's help all the same?
He smiled, wickedly.

On the left, the fight raged on.
Guster and the Blacks were hanging in there, but Gozen knew Lugrek’s arrival—and soon Serbice’s—would change everything.

You don’t have much time, Guster. What will you do now?

Bulk was a brainless bull.
Nefer, swift and elusive like Castor’s wind.

Lugrek went to help Malko, who was fighting Bulk.
You read it right, Lugrek. Gozen thought.

Malko wasn’t cut out to face a colossus like Bulk: his style was too clean, too technical.
He needed hard, joint-targeting strikes, and he just didn’t have them.

Lugrek flipped the fight.
He began circling Bulk like a mosquito.
Bulk swung his hammer, but Lugrek was too fast.
And he also had to keep an eye on Malko, who kept pressing him.

Lugrek slid under a slash, then struck Bulk at the knee, and the next instant hit his throat with a knife-edge hand.
The giant dropped to his knees, coughing and gasping.
Malko moved in to finish it, but Bulk grabbed him and smashed him with a brutal headbutt.

Ouch. That one looked nasty, Gozen thought, watching Malko’s face warp from afar.
Probably broke every bone in there.

But Lugrek closed it out: he slammed the flat of his blade into Bulk’s face, knocking him out.

On the other front, Serbice snapped May’s right wrist.
Then a punch to the gut—
and a rising knee to the face to end it.

All four Whites were down.
Serbice rejoined his teammates.
Only Guster and Nefer of the Blacks remained standing, surrounded by blues Lugrek, Kleus, Serbice, and Yekke.

They don’t stand a chance, Gozen thought.
Time to step in.

The rest of the Blue Team charged Guster and Nefer.
The two set up back-to-back.

Guster parried a slash from Serbice and staggered right.
A strike from Lugrek grazed his nose.
He tried to counter, but Serbice kicked him in the ribs, rolling him to the ground.

Taking advantage of the opening, Serbice turned and hammered Nefer on the nape with his sword hilt, knocking him out.

Guster pushed himself up.
Four enemies lined up before him.
He glanced around.
He was alone.

Damn it. I’m screwed.
Think, Guster… think!

No ideas.
Running was pointless.
He’d only burn what little strength he had left.
And they would have reached him anyway.

Then at least… I’ll take as many of them with me as I can.

Kleus advanced first.
Guster parried, but Yekke hit his shoulder on the follow-up.
Then came Lugrek’s fist—sudden.
A clean shot to the temple.

Guster reeled.
Serbice moved to finish him—when a shadow flashed by.

A sword intercepted Serbice’s blade, shoving him back.
The shadow wielded a wide-bladed greatsword.

Gozen!!!

Next Episode: The Tournament (Part. VI)