Guster was speechless.
In a blink, Gozen unleashed all his fury.

He drove a terrible blow at Serbice’s chest.
Serbice slipped to the side, but Gozen had predicted it: he pivoted and smashed an elbow into Serbice’s face.
Then, with a spinning step, he deflected the thrusts of Kleus and Yekke.
He landed, turned again, and clipped both across the face with a straight sweep of the greatsword.

They dropped like puppets.
His speed and accuracy… are incredible. Guster Thought.

Lugrek lunged, but Gozen tilted his head just enough for the blade to pass by.
He let the greatsword fall, caught Lugrek’s sword with his left hand, yanked him in, and crushed him with a savage punch.
Then he kick sent the greatsword spinning up; he snatched it mid-air—
just in time to smash Serbice from behind and drop him with a single blow.

Guster couldn’t believe it.
In seconds, four Blues were down.

“Holy— you wiped them out!” he blurted, still stunned.

Gozen turned, stone-faced.
“What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to guard our flag?”

“I figured if we left everything to you and Yano, we’d scrape maybe one point per flag,” Guster shot back.
“And Oku wouldn’t appreciate the Blacks sitting on their hands.”

“You’re spineless,” Gozen replied.
“You should’ve said so when we ordered you to hold the base.
I wanted to see if any of you had a bit of courage.”

“Fuck off, Gozen!” Guster exploded.
“You and your holier-than-thou act!
If you’re so damn brilliant, you should’ve coordinated us better!
Look at the score!
We’re at –3! Let’s take that damned blue flag and at least climb to –1!”

Gozen slid the greatsword into its sheath.
“It’s easy to blame the one who decides.
There’s a difference between choosing and getting it wrong—and not choosing at all out of fear of being wrong.
Still, I appreciate you, Guster. You did a stupid thing, but at least you had the guts to act.”

“Yeah. And without you, we’d all be out,” Guster retorted.

Gozen held his gaze.
“Better a fool who tries to think than one who wallows in his own stupidity.
We still have an hour and twenty.
You—return to our base.
Make sure Ester, Judit, and Woolk aren’t already down.”

“And you?” Guster asked.

“I’m heading north.
I want to see what Yano is up to.
I suspect that –3 is Jhoanna’s doing—
and that Yano walked straight into her trap.”

“And when I get to our base, what do I do?”

Gozen gave the faintest smile.
“As I said—better a fool who thinks.
Use your head. Assess, then act.”

“Then you keep the blue flag,” Guster said.
“At least we bank these points.”

Gozen nodded.
He took the blue flag, slipped it into his pocket, and started north without looking back.

What a strange guy, Guster thought.
He checked his wristband:

Black Team: –1
Red Team: –1
White Team: +4
Blue Team: –2
Time remaining: 1 hour 15 minutes

Finde had almost reached the Whites’ base.
He moved stealthily among rocks and sand dunes, trying to stay unseen.
He reached a boulder seventy meters out and leaned to take a look.

Yano was on his feet.
Breathing hard, his body mapped with cuts and purple bruises.
Of the Reds, only Jhoanna and Misandor were still standing.

Incredible, Finde thought. He shot down five of them himself.

Jhoanna had a black eye and a bleeding nose, but she still looked ready to fight.
Misandor was limping, but functional.

“Come on, idiots!” Yano snarled.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

They weren’t.
They charged.

Misandor lunged forward, the spear cutting through the air toward Yano’s face.
The axe deflected the strike with a sharp clang.
A heartbeat later, Jhoanna came from the left—a precise punch to his ribs.

Yano took the hit, then countered on instinct.
The axe handle slammed under Jhoanna’s chin.
A dull thud. A gasp.

Misandor struck from behind.
The spear’s tip crashed against Yano’s head.
The warrior staggered, reaching for his hair, checking for blood.

Too late.
Jhoanna leapt onto him like a furious beast.
She tackled him to the ground, locking her legs around his torso, her arms around his neck.
The crook of her elbow tightened like a steel snare.

Yano’s face turned blue, but he didn’t yield.
He freed one arm and started striking back.
Elbow blows—brutal and relentless.
Each one tore a groan from Jhoanna, yet she refused to let go.

“Damn it…!” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Misandor dove in to pin Yano’s free arm, but the guy fought like a cornered animal.
Then, slowly, the fury faded from his limbs.
His eyes rolled back.
He collapsed, unconscious.

Jhoanna held the choke for one more breath, then released.
She rolled aside, gasping.
Misandor lay on his back beside her, spent.

Silence.
Only their ragged breathing—and the whisper of wind brushing the sands of Castor.

“He made us damn” Jhoanna murmured, her voice rough and low.

――

Finde watched from afar, motionless among the rocks.
Yano… you’re unbelievable.

He saw Jhoanna and Misandor lying in the sand, catching their breath.
Now’s my chance, he thought. I can take back the white flag.

But Jhoanna moved first.
She raised her wrist.
Her fingers danced over the bracelet—swift, invisible motions.
Then she spoke.

“Melkior. Do you read me?”

Finde frowned.
What in the hell is she doing?

A metallic voice echoed from the bracelet, carried by the wind.
“Jhoanna, I hear you.”

“Finally…” she sighed. “Report.”

The voice replied, crisp and steady:
“The black base is guarded only by Judit, Ester, and Woolk. They’re sitting tight by their flag.
Chaos erupted in the east— the blues are entrenched, but May, Gill, Ancer, and Luke have joined forces with Guster, Nefer, and Bulk of the blacks. They’re tearing each other apart.”

“And Gozen?”

“No sign. He’s vanished.”

“What about Finde and Katrin?”

“Negative.”

A pause. Then Melkior’s voice grew sharper.
“I’ve seen the scores, Jhoanna. What in the void happened?”

She rubbed her face, exhausted.
“When we got there, Yano was already fighting Finde.
The only white still conscious was Katrin… knee shot to pieces.
The moment Finde saw us, he threw her over his shoulder and ran south.

We stayed and fought Yano.
He nearly killed us, but we brought him down.
Now only Misandor and I are left standing.
And yet that bastard Finde… he must’ve stolen our flag from Yano, taking advantage of the chaos.”

She punched the sand in frustration.
“I'm a diot! I should’ve sent someone after him!”

Melkior’s tone softened.
“Don’t blame yourself. Yano almost wiped you out even seven against one.
If you’d split the team, you wouldn’t have made it.
We still have time to reclaim our flag.
Where do you think Finde’s heading?”

“With Katrin on his back, he can’t have gone far.
Melkior, patrol the central area.
In fifteen minutes, move south through the east flank—stay out of sight from the blues.
Misandor will move from the west, I’ll advance through the center.
If any of us spots Finde, alert the others.
If not, we regroup near the blacks’ base in thirty minutes.
We take their flag… then we hunt him down.”

“Understood. See you soon. Out.”

――

Finde froze in disbelief.
So the bracelets can be used for communication… Oku never mentioned that.
He bit his lip.
With this stratagem Jhoanna… is always two steps ahead.

He checked the display on his own bracelet.

Black Team: –6
Red Team: +4
White Team: +4
Blue Team: –2
Time remaining: 1h30

The reds and whites were tied for the lead.
If he hadn’t stolen that flag from Yano, Jhoanna’s team would now have eight points—
and his, minus one.

Damn. She’s a tactician to the bone.
Think, Finde. Don’t rush it.

He was probably the last white still in play.
Attacking Jhoanna now would be suicide.
He would secretly tail them south, making sure they didn't find Katrin's hideout.

Then he would have spied on the clash between reds and blacks.
If luck smiled on him, the two teams would destroy each other…
and he’d strike in one clean sweep.

――

Twenty minutes passed.
Finde followed Jhoanna from afar, silent among the dunes.
They had long passed Katrin’s position.
We should be near the black base by now, he thought.

He was right.
In the distance, three figures sat in the sand—Judit, Ester, and Woolk.

Jhoanna stopped, touched her bracelet again, and murmured something.
Moments later, Melkior and Misandor appeared.
The three exchanged a few quick words, then advanced toward the black base.

――

Ester and Judit sat on the ground, bored.
Woolk lay sprawled nearby, hands behind his head, half asleep.

“I don't believe it,” muttered Judit. “Have you seen the scores?”

“Yeah,” said Ester. “I’d bet anything Guster, Bulk, and Nefer screwed up again.
That’s why our negatives points.
Hopefully Gozen and Yano can fix their mess.”

Judit smirked faintly.
“So… who do you like more? Gozen or Yano?”

Ester chuckled. “Judit! Didn’t think you were that kind of girl!”

“I’m not! I mean—maybe sometimes, but—” she flushed scarlet.

Ester laughed harder.
“It’s normal, Ju. Nothing wrong with noticing guys.”

A male voice cut in:
“If you two want to practice, I volunteer. Better be prepared for important dates.”

Ester spun around, furious.
“You weren’t asleep, you pervert?! Eavesdropping on us?”

Woolk yawned. “Wasn’t eavesdropping. You’re the ones talking about mushy stuff right next to me.”

Judit’s face burned red. “We weren’t talking about that!”

Ester pointed at him. “You pretended to sleep just to listen! Degenerate!”

Woolk jumped up. “I was sleeping! If you two hens can’t shut up, that’s not my fault!”

“Hens?! How dare you, sewer rat!”

They glared at each other, face to face.

“Guys—!” tried Judit.
Ignored.

“You are a little slut!” snarled Woolk.

“Guys, damn it!! Look!” Judit shouted, pointing north.

Both turned.
Ester’s face drained of color. “Oh, no… what do we do now?”

The Red team was there, a hundred meters away.

Jhoanna was ready to attack them.