Turai and Gareth had just finished cutting down the last of nearly a thousand soldiers that had been left alive after the deadly spear assault.
The aftermath was a bloody mess, with limbs and bodies scattered across the battlefield, painting a scene of utter carnage.
Their teamwork had been impeccable, each kill executed with precision and purpose, leaving no enemy standing. With this final effort, Turai's plaque now ranked him at the top, with Gareth coming in second.
The third-place contender, the captain from the imperial city's original tournament team, was far behind them.
Gareth let out a hearty laugh as he surveyed the battlefield. "Well, I'll be damned, kid. Not bad for someone who's supposed to be retired," he said, glancing at his plaque.