Howling with rage, the Dust King replied by further utilizing his bulk. Pivoting off Cutter's blade, he spun inside of their range, bringing his elbow down on the smaller assassin's skull. Dazed for less than a second, Cutter found his nodachi missing as he lay prone below the bleeding bandit. He minimized his motion, pretending to still be shocked as he slipped his katana free once more. As the King raised his saber to finish him off, Cutter rapidly rolled toward him, thrusting his katana up past the previous wound and into the heart from below. With a shuddering gasp, the King collapsed upon him.

At dawn, they left the compound. The foul stench of burning bodies behind them, Cutter was relieved. The Shek were still boasting to one another about their victory, conveniently ignoring that they'd all fallen during the battle. Instead, they spoke of how many foes they felled or whose scars would look better. That none had lost a limb seemed miraculous, and even Man-eater was limping along happily, his belly full. Cutter knew it was all too close though; they needed more training, and more allies. After his final duel, he'd been terrified as he searched through the wounded, hoping none of his friends had died. Although they'd first come as unwanted hangers-on, he now felt kinship and the need to protect them. There was safety in numbers, as much as he had tried to deny it in the past, and he'd benefited from them as well. It was time to ensure his plans wouldn't put them at such great risk again.