The courtyard erupted into chaos as the three duels commenced simultaneously.

Gulag closed the distance to her opponent first. The axe-wielding brute swung his twin blades in a vicious cross-chop, aiming directly for her neck. Gulag didn’t bother attempting to dodge. She thrust her iron mace upward, catching both descending axes on the thick metal haft.

The sheer kinetic impact buckled the lieutenant’s knees, momentarily locking his arms in place.

Before the brute could disengage, Gulag dropped her shoulder and rammed directly into his chest. The force of the tackle shattered his ribs and sent him stumbling backward. As he gasped for air and tried to raise his weapons again, she stepped forward and brought her mace down in a devastating overhead arc.

The weapon crushed through his raised guard and slammed into his helm. The stone paving beneath his boots cratered, and the lieutenant collapsed in a lifeless heap.

"I win," Gulag announced brightly.

’Impossible! It hasn’t even been a minute!’ Aaron couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.

Gulag hoisted the bloody mace back onto her shoulder and shot a jagged grin toward Iron-Scale and Aaron, who were still actively trading blows with their targets.

"I am going to the docks," Gulag shouted over the clash of steel. "Don’t take too long cleaning up the trash!"

Without waiting for a response, she sprinted past the shattered defensive lines, barreling through the remaining infantry as she headed straight for the anchored fleet to find the Conqueror.

"Haha! She is just like her mate! I truly can’t win against them in terms of brute strength with this body..."

A few meters away, Iron-Scale calmly deflected a vicious thrust from the scarred veteran. The lieutenant swung his secondary sword with incredible speed, trying to overwhelm the Kobold with a relentless flurry of strikes. Iron-Scale simply parried the attacks with a flick of his wrist.

Finding an opening, Iron-Scale fired his right pneumatic spool. The grapple hook shot past the veteran’s shoulder and bit deeply into a stone pillar behind him. The wire retracted instantly, violently pulling Iron-Scale forward. He zipped past his opponent in a blur, dragging his star-iron blade across the man’s armor to carve a deep groove through the steel breastplate.

The veteran spun around with a roar, unleashing a wave of crackling lightning from his aura to cover his blind spots. Iron-Scale engaged his left spool, firing it straight into the archway above. He launched himself directly upward, soaring completely over the electrical surge.

At the apex of his jump, he detached the wire and plummeted downward.

The veteran looked up and hastily raised his sword to block. Iron-Scale channeled his draconic aura into his own blade, increasing its physical density. The resulting falling strike cleaved cleanly through the defensive parry and drove deep into the commander’s collarbone, ending the fight instantly.

Nearby, Aaron faced an entirely different challenge. The agile spellcaster danced backward across the rubble, hurling concentrated spheres of corrosive magic.

A stray orb clipped Aaron’s shoulder, instantly melting through the silver steel of his pauldron and burning the skin beneath.

Aaron gritted his teeth, forcefully suppressing a groan of pain as the acid hissed against his flesh.

’I will not fall here,’ Aaron thought fiercely, his grip tightening on his hilt. ’Not when his murderer is waiting.’

He channeled every ounce of his remaining mana into his greatsword. The silver blade ignited with blinding radiance, humming with lethal energy. The spellcaster sneered and hurled a wide, concentrated wave of acid intended to melt the knight entirely.

He swung his glowing weapon with both hands. The heavy blade sliced completely through the magical torrent, splitting the spell in half so the acid splashed harmlessly against the stone on either side of him. Aaron surged through the opening before the caster could conjure another barrier.

He closed the gap in a single stride and drove the greatsword squarely into the lieutenant’s chest, pinning him to the courtyard floor.

Aaron ripped his blade free and stood up, his chest heaving heavily as the ambient magic dissipated. He looked toward Iron-Scale, who was already retracting his wire-spools and stepping over the fallen veteran.

"Gulag is already ahead," Iron-Scale noted, wiping his blade clean with a cloth.

"Then we need to follow her," Aaron replied, completely ignoring the painful burn on his shoulder. He pointed his sword toward the distant ships. "Ghizlan is mine."

"That is if she already hasn’t claimed his head," Iron Scale responded.

Leaving the ruined courtyard behind, Aaron and Iron-Scale plunged directly into the labyrinth of the harbor district. The narrow cobblestone streets leading toward the docks were still choked with retreating Fourth Continent soldiers, but neither commander slowed their pace to accommodate them.

Aaron led the charge, his glowing greatsword carving a brilliant arc through the gloomy ocean fog. Driven by decades of festering grief, the knight completely ignored the agonizing acid burn on his shoulder and simply battered his way through a hastily erected barricade of spearmen.

Iron-Scale followed his destructive path seamlessly, utilizing his wire-spools to swing from the low warehouse rooftops and execute any archers attempting to line up a shot on the charging knight.

They fought with synchronized efficiency, leaving a trail of shattered armor and broken bodies as they raced toward the water.

’We are taking too long,’ Aaron thought fiercely, gritting his teeth as he kicked a dying soldier out of his path. ’If the Vanguard beast steals this kill, my brother’s spirit will never find peace.’

As they finally broke past the final line of storehouses, the chaotic din of the battlefield abruptly faded into an eerie silence. The air grew impossibly heavy, saturated with a suffocating, dense mana that made it physically difficult to draw a full breath.

They stepped out onto the expansive wooden pier where the massive transport fleet sat anchored to the seabed. The docks were an absolute wreck. Thick oak planks were completely splintered, heavy iron mooring chains had been violently snapped, and a massive, pulverized crater dominated the center of the primary loading bay.

Aaron froze in his tracks, the glowing aura of his greatsword dimming slightly at the sight before him. Iron-Scale landed softly beside the knight, his draconic eyes narrowing into slits.

Gulag was on the ground.