The Steel Tiger’s crew knows that it cannot catch up to The Shoebill, so unless Fenrir and his crew decide to close the distance, Alexander has no choice but to order his men to focus on a ranged battle.

Cannons erupt exchanging deadly shots. Both ships are trying to take out the other without regard for their crew – no, if anything, there is a regard. They want each other dead.

While The Shoebill’s cannons prove ineffective against The Steel Tiger’s hull, the shots that come from The Steel Tiger are able to smash apart and pierce The Shoebill’s hull.

But, that is only for the initial shots.

Thanks to the tree of a mast stolen from the longship in the first round, The Shoebill’s hull regrows its wooden structure and no holes last for more than a minute before being replaced by pristine, new wood. More importantly, the next time that a cannonball tries to blast into one of the recently-regrown spots, it bounces off just like they have been against The Steel Tiger.

“It’s workin’!” Tabitha announces with a proud smile.

“So, all the new wood is going to be steel oak?” Fenrir asks.

“Right! Maybe not exactly steel oak, but it’ll be as strong as it!”

“Great job salvaging some of it, Olly, Corwin.”

Oleander wants to take a break from steering to go and hug Corwin, but another cannonball flying by the stern of the ship keeps his attention on steering the ship.

“Now our girl is as durable as them and she can repair on her own. We don’t have to worry about sinking, so now we just have to try and sink them,” Fenrir says before looking at Serra. “You ready to play with your new bolts?”

Serra straightens out her hat and gives a thumbs-up. “Ready,” she says.

“Aim for patched up parts of their hull. I don’t know if those shots will be able to do much to the rest of it, but if we aim for the parts that were damaged during the second round, I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

Serra nods and gets to aiming to the ballista. With her hands on the levers and a single eye staring through the scope, she positions the ballista and keeps it aimed at the obviously-patched-up section of The Steel Tiger’s hull.

They have no idea whether they patched it up with more steel oak or just whatever wood they could get their hands on, but either way, it is clearly a quick repair job.

“Fire after we give them another volley of cannons. Let’s not give them any rest!” Fenrir shouts.

Cassiel, Corwin, and Bonekraka fire and send a volley of cannonballs at The Steel Tiger. One of the shots misses, but the other two cause its crewmembers to take cover and protect themselves.

Then, just as they think they have a moment to safely reload their own cannons, Serra fires the first of her explosive bolts.

The bolt soars through the air and rips right through the patched-up hull of The Steel Tiger, its explosive tip embedded directly underneath the floorboards. Just seconds later and an explosion rocks The Steel Tiger! Its deck blasts upward sending fragments of its floorboards into the air and taking out the wood underneath its portside cannons. The cannons that crash down only cause more damage to the ship’s hull by cracking a section of it underwater, allowing water to begin seeping into the ship’s hull.

More importantly than taking on some water and losing half of their deck is that they are lit aflame.

Flames with toxic fumes spread across the ship’s sails and hull.

“Should we get in and finish ‘em off while they’re busy dealin’ with the fire?” Tabitha asks.

“No. There’s no guarantee we’d win a close-quarters fight, and that prick doesn’t deserve a good death. I want him to burn or drown,” Fenrir answers.

His answer sends shivers down Tabitha’s, Corwin’s, and Cassiel’s spines. While Serra finds it awesome, the rest are reminded of just whom Fenrir used to be. It is moments like this where they are reminded that there is truth in him once leading gaming’s most notorious group of raiders. Even if they did rely on dumb plans and luck plenty of times, there were just as many times where they employed serious strategies and had the personalities to strike fear and respect into those they dominated.

The wolfen ears and tail, while they may be as white as fresh snow, may as well be dyed black to match his tone and personality in this moment. The stern eyes that stare at the enemy ship, the sadistic smile he wears as he watches its crew try to put out the fire and survive, the way he stands tall and proud – he’s the one who looks like the bad guy in this situation.

It may be nothing new to Bonekraka and Oleander, but even Serra finds herself surprised from just how serious and cruel Fenrir seems right now. Both Serra and Cassiel find themselves excited by this dominant, dark personality of his.

“He’s going to be so mad,” Fenrir says with a chuckle, turning to look at the rest of his crew with a smile. “Great job so far, everybody. Let’s keep it up.”

Just like what Fenrir told Nell before, it is better to know when to pretend to be a cruel and dominant villain than it is to actually be one. As intimidating as his sheer presence was just moments ago, he now looks at his crew with a gentle smile and honest pride in all of them.

“The battle isn’t over yet, so let’s get the cannons and ballista reloaded! We’ve still got four bolts left, but I doubt we’re even going to need them all. Still want to put another one or two into them to finish them off, though,” Fenrir says.

Meanwhile, some of the longship’s crewmembers try jumping into the water to take down the serpent assaulting the underside of their vessel, but those who do only distract the serpent for mere seconds before having their bodies rather violently torn in half or tossed far away. One of the men even gets smacked out of the air mid-jump into the water by the serpent’s tail!

“We could win right now if we get the serpent to come over to us,” Cassiel says. “These assholes are too busy trying to fix their ship, and the serpent could reach us before the longship does, so then all we have to do is go past the tower.”

“You’re right, but we’re getting revenge for Morven’s crew, Jax, and everybody else. These guys thought that they were going to sink us last round and this round, but the truth is that they’re going to be the ones who sink. Neither of them are going to make it out of this,” Fenrir answers.

Serra shoots another bolt at The Steel Tiger. This one fails to pierce its hull, but the explosion of its tip sends burning shrapnel into it.

“They’re runnin’!” Tabitha shouts.

The Steel Tiger has changed course to head back to the piers.

“We’re not letting them,” Fenrir says, rushing up to the ballista to help Serra load the hook-shot once more. “Get us closer, Olly!”

As soon as they’re close enough, Serra fires the ballista and hooks onto The Steel Tiger’s stern. “Take us back out!” Fenrir orders.

…

“They grappled us!” one of the men aboard The Steel Tiger shouts to Alexander.

Alexander, who has been biting the nail of his thumb for the past several minutes, swears under his breath as an expression of twisted rage takes over his face. “They’d be dead if we had our wings. Were they saving those bolts for the last round?” he asks.

“What are we going to do, sir?”

“Are they still playing around with that serpent?”

“Yes. They can’t help us. Should we use that?”

“We can’t risk it. Our cover is blown if we do,” Alexander says with a groan. His demeanor changes a second later when he slams his fist into the hull of his ship and starts swearing and kicking things around. Then, he calms himself down and looks at the other man. “They’re grappled onto us and that chain is connected to their ballista, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

…

“What’s he doing?” Cassiel asks when she sees Alexander stand next to where the shot is hooked onto. Rather than try to free their ship from the hook, Alexander places his hands on it and sends a magical flame running along it directly toward The Shoebill.

A fiery vortex consumes the chain.

“Release it!” Fenrir shouts at Serra.

Serra wastes no time in releasing the chain from the ballista, allowing it to fall into the ocean thus letting The Steel Tiger escape. It is heavily damaged and incapable of fighting further, but it is still able to limp into port and dock so that they may focus on repairs.

“He got away,” Serra says with an annoyed pout.

“No, he ran away. His pride is going to be even more hurt than it would’ve been from just dying,” Fenrir says.

“Then why didn’t he let himself die? I thought he’d be too proud to run,” Cassiel says.

“Yeah, it doesn’t really make sense, but that’s not important right now. We’ll worry about it later,” he says, looking at the longship. “Let’s go wrap things up.”