They reached the convoy at dusk, the fading light casting long shadows across the rocky plain. The wagons stood in a loose circle, their colorful banners fluttering in the wind like tattered flags of a forgotten battle. The scene was eerily silent, save for the creak of wood and the occasional rustle of fabric. Crates of supplies lay scattered around, their contents spilling out—food, tools, and other goods, all untouched.

  Aelin stepped forward, her bow nocked and her sharp eyes scanning the area. “Where are your people?” she asked, her voice low but firm.

  Hale limped toward the lead wagon, his hand resting on the hilt of one of his daggers. “Hiding,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes darting around. “They’ll regroup once they see I’m alive. They’re loyal like that.”

  Pip didn’t wait for an invitation. She rushed to the nearest crate, prying it open with a crowbar she pulled from her belt. Her eyes widened as she saw the contents. “Victor, look! Mana crystals! And Dwarven steel!” She held up a shimmering crystal, its surface catching the last rays of sunlight. “This is exactly what we need!”

  Victor’s core flared with satisfaction. The materials were perfect—enough to power the Frost Core for weeks and reinforce the Wagon-Fortress’s defenses. But as Pip began loading the supplies into the Wagon-Fortress, Victor noticed Hale slipping toward the back of the convoy. His movements were deliberate, his posture tense.

  “Wait,” Victor said, his voice cutting through the stillness. “Where are you going?”

  Hale froze, then turned slowly. The friendly, roguish charm he had displayed earlier was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. “To collect my real reward,” he said, his voice flat.

  Before anyone could react, Hale pulled a horn from his belt and blew into it. The sound was deep and mournful, echoing across the rocky plain like a death knell. Moments later, the ground seemed to come alive as armed men emerged from behind boulders and crevices—dozens of them, their weapons gleaming in the dim light. They moved with practiced precision, surrounding the group in a matter of seconds.

  “Rust Pirates,” Borin growled, his hammer already in hand. His eyes burned with anger as he glared at Hale. “You led us into a trap.”

  Hale shrugged, his expression unapologetic. “Survival’s the name of the game. You do what you have to.”

  Aelin’s bow was drawn in an instant, her arrow aimed directly at Hale’s chest. “You’re dead,” she said, her voice as sharp as the arrowhead.

  Hale raised his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk never wavered. “You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and out of options. But hey, I’m feeling generous. Hand over the Wagon-Fortress, and I’ll let you walk away. Maybe.”

  Victor’s core pulsed with a mix of anger and betrayal. He had suspected Hale’s motives, but the reality of the betrayal still stung. “You’re making a mistake,” Victor said, his voice calm but laced with warning.

  Hale chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “I don’t think so. You’ve got a lot of fancy toys, but you’re still just a dungeon core. And dungeons? They’re meant to be looted.”

  Pip stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists. “You’re a liar and a coward. We trusted you!”

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  “And that’s your problem,” Hale replied, his tone cold. “Trust is a liability.”

  The Rust Pirates closed in, their weapons raised and their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Aelin’s arrow flew, striking one of the pirates in the shoulder, but it did little to slow the advancing horde. Borin roared, charging into the fray with his hammer swinging, while the Steam Sentinels moved to protect Pip and the Wagon-Fortress.

  Victor’s core pulsed with urgency. “Pip, now!”

  Pip grinned, her hands already moving. “Deploying the Mobile Defense Unit!”

  From a hidden compartment in the Wagon-Fortress, the MDU-01 emerged, its brass frame gleaming in the fading light. The unit’s turret rotated, its mana cannons locking onto the nearest group of pirates. With a deafening roar, it opened fire, sending bursts of energy into the enemy ranks.

  Hale’s smirk faltered as he watched his men fall. “What the—?!”

  “You should’ve stayed loyal,” Victor said, his voice cold and unwavering.

  The battle was far from over, but for the first time, Hale looked uncertain. The Wagon-Fortress was no ordinary dungeon, and Victor was no ordinary core. Together, they would fight—and they would survive.

  The Mobile Defence Unit

  But Hale wasn’t done. “Focus on that machine!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos as he pointed at the MDU. “Take it out!”

  The Rust Pirates, though shaken by the MDU’s initial onslaught, quickly regrouped under Hale’s command. They moved with a newfound coordination, their desperation turning into ruthless efficiency. A group of pirates armed with weighted nets stepped forward, their movements deliberate as they swung the heavy stones attached to the nets in wide arcs.

  “Watch out!” Pip shouted, her voice barely audible over the din of battle.

  The nets flew through the air, tangling around the MDU’s legs. The machine stumbled, its movements growing sluggish as it tried to free itself. Another group of pirates hurled small, crude explosive devices at the MDU’s turret. The explosions rocked the machine, sending sparks flying and causing its mana cannons to misfire.

  “They’re targeting its weak points!” Pip yelled, her hands clenched in frustration. “Victor, we need to do something!”

  Victor’s core pulsed with urgency. “The MDU’s defenses are holding, but it won’t last long. We need to—”

  Before he could finish, a well-aimed shot from a pirate’s crossbow struck the MDU’s mana crystal. The crystal, already strained from the battle, sparked and sputtered before shattering with a loud crack. The MDU’s lights flickered, and its movements slowed to a halt as it powered down completely.

  “No!” Pip shouted, her voice filled with frustration and disbelief. She slammed her fist against the Wagon-Fortress’s wall. “Victor, the MDU’s down! They took out its core!”

  Victor’s core pulsed with urgency, his voice calm but firm. “Fall back to the Wagon-Fortress. We need a new plan.”

  The group didn’t need to be told twice. Aelin fired a volley of arrows to cover their retreat, her movements precise and unerring. Borin swung his hammer in wide arcs, keeping the pirates at bay as they fell back toward the fortress. The Steam Sentinels, though damaged, provided cover, their piston-powered fists slamming into any pirate who got too close.

  Pip was the last to retreat, her eyes lingering on the MDU as it stood motionless, its once-gleaming brass frame now scorched and battered. “I’ll fix you,” she muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with determination. “I promise.”

  As the group reached the safety of the Wagon-Fortress, Victor’s core pulsed with a mix of frustration and resolve. The MDU had been their ace in the hole, but its loss wasn’t the end. They still had each other—and they still had a fight to win.