The west side of Korinth was quiet, the moonlight painting long shadows over stone walls. Alexios crouched low on a rooftop, grinning like a wolf ready to pounce.
Below, a handful of guards shuffled lazily near the warehouse doors, leaning on spears, muttering about dice games.
"Lazy bastards, this will be too easy," Alexios whispered to himself, drawing his dagger.
He dropped down silently, landing behind the first guard. One swift strike, and the man fell without a sound. Alexios pulled the body into the shadows before moving on. One by one, he cut them down — a blade under a chin, a silent choke, a quick stab between the ribs.
It was going perfectly.
But then—
Crunch. His sandal slipped on loose gravel.
The dice clattered to the ground. A guard spun, torchlight catching Alexios's face.
"INTRUDER!" the man shouted.
Alexios groaned, rolling his eyes. "Ah… shit."
Steel rang out as every guard leapt to arms. Alexios pulled his spear free with a savage grin. "Fine. No more hiding."
He charged, spear flashing like lightning. The first guard lunged — Alexios twisted, impaling him through the stomach, then used the momentum to kick the corpse into another guard. He spun, parried a sword swing, and rammed his spear through the man's chest.
"Die, dog!" one roared, rushing with a shield.
Alexios dropped low, stabbing at the legs, slicing the tendons. The man collapsed, screaming. Alexios silenced him with a brutal thrust to the throat.
The fight turned into a storm of steel. Alexios fought like a lion, laughing between strikes. "Come on then! Is that all you've got?"
By the time silence fell again, every guard lay sprawled in blood, torches guttering out. Alexios leaned on his spear, panting, then laughed.
Breathing hard, bloodied but grinning, Alexios stood over the pile of bodies. "Stealth. Overrated."
He raised his arm and whistled. Dorian's men poured in, wide-eyed at the carnage.
"Guard it well," Alexios ordered, leaning casually on his spear. "If anyone asks who did this, tell them the gods sent a storm."
Without another word, he sprinted off toward Monger's home, laughter on his lips.
On the East Warehouse
On the other side of Korinth, Lukas approached the east warehouse in full stride, axe resting on his shoulder. The guards spotted him immediately, weapons raised.
"You there! Halt!" one barked.
Lukas didn't slow. He smiled, rolling his shoulders. "I'm not here to stop."
With a roar, he swung his double axe in a massive arc. The gate splintered, and two guards fell in halves, blood spraying across the cobblestones.
"By the gods!" one shouted. "It's a madman!"
The guards rushed, but Lukas was a storm. His axe carved through men like wheat before a scythe. He blocked one spear thrust with his forearm, broke the shaft, then buried his axe into the attacker's chest. Another came from behind — Lukas spun, the axe cleaving him in two.
The ground grew slick with blood, but Lukas kept swinging, each strike heavier, deadlier.
Then a shadow fell across him.
A giant stepped forward — taller than Lukas, muscles rippling, carrying a massive double-headed axe and shield. His eyes burned with challenge.
The other guards backed away, whispering. "By Herakles… two monsters."
The giant roared, slamming his shield against his chest. Lukas's grin widened. "Finally. A proper fight."
They clashed. The ground shook with every strike, weapons sparking as steel met steel. Lukas's blows were wild but powerful; the giant's strikes were measured, crushing.
At one point, the giant's axe slammed into Lukas's shoulder guard, almost sending him sprawling. Lukas staggered back, blood trickling.
He laughed. "That all? You hit like a drunk fisherman."
They exchanged blow after blow until Lukas spotted his opening — the giant's weapon was heavy, recovery slow. He feinted, baiting the man into a downward strike. As the axe lodged into the earth, Lukas swung hard, his blade tearing through the giant's side.
The man dropped to his knees, gasping, before collapsing lifeless.
Breathing hard, Lukas spat blood onto the ground. "You were fun. But not fun enough. Thanks for the workout.".
He raised his axe in salute to the corpses, then signaled. Dorian's men rushed in, mouths agape at the destruction.
"Hold it," Lukas said simply, resting his axe across his shoulder. "It's yours now."
Then he set off toward Monger's estate, humming a battle song, the earth trembling with each step.
On the South Warehouse
Atlas crouched in the shadows, bow ready, Eagle Vision flaring to life. The world glowed in gold and blue, every guard illuminated.
"Six outside. Four inside. Easy," he whispered.
He drew his bow. One arrow, one throat. Another, a heart. The outer guards dropped silently, one by one.
Atlas moved like a shadow, slipping between patrols. He reached the main door just as a guard yawned, leaning on his spear.
A quick thrust under the ribs. The man stiffened and dropped. Atlas snatched his dagger, turned, and hurled it into the neck of another guard rushing toward him.
The last two shouted, raising their swords. Atlas was already in motion. He slashed one across the throat, then pivoted, kicking the other into a wall before finishing him with a swift stab.
When silence fell, he cleaned his blade calmly. "Too slow."
He signaled. Anthousa, Dorian, and their allies rushed in. Anthousa froze at the sight of the bodies.
"You… you cleared this alone?" she asked.
Atlas gave a small nod. "It's clear. Guard it well."
Dorian chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "You never cease to surprise me, brother."
Atlas allowed himself a faint smile. "We're not done yet. Stay sharp."
Then he sprinted across the rooftops toward Monger's estate.
Minutes later, the three converged atop the city, looking down at Monger's mansion. Torches flickered below, guards patrolled lazily, unaware their warehouses were already lost.
Alexios leaned against a chimney, grinning smugly. "Well, I won. First here, as always."
Atlas blinked. "What? No — I was ahead of you."
Lukas stomped up, axe dripping blood. "You're both wrong. I finished my fight, took a nap, then came here."
Alexios barked a laugh. "You? Nap? You can't even spell nap!"
Lukas scowled. "Spell it? I'll spell it with your blood, little prince."
Atlas rubbed his forehead, muttering, "Gods give me patience…"
But despite the bickering, they all smiled as they looked down at Monger's fortress. Tonight, Korinth's tyrant would finally fall.