Chase watched as Isushi's cape fell away, revealing the warlord's muscular form clad in ornate red and gold armor. Isushi reached behind his back and drew forth a massive naginata, its blade gleaming in the torchlight.

“You should have taken your freedom and left, human,” Isushi growled, his eyes narrowing. “Now you will die here, and your corpse will feed my beasts.”

Chase said nothing, simply raising his shield and gripping his pick tighter. His body ached from the previous fights, but adrenaline coursed through him, dulling the pain. He knew this was likely to be his last battle, but he was determined to make Isushi work for the victory.

With a roar, Isushi charged forward, swinging his naginata in a wide arc. Chase barely managed to duck under the blade, feeling the wind from its passage ruffle his hair. He countered with a swipe of his pick, aiming for Isushi's knee, but the warlord deftly sidestepped the attack.

“Is that the best you can do?” Isushi taunted, bringing his weapon around for another strike.

Chase raised his shield, the naginata's blade slamming into it with bone-jarring force. He staggered back, his arm going numb from the impact. Isushi pressed his advantage, raining down blows that Chase could barely block or dodge.

The human found himself being driven back across the arena floor, desperately looking for an opening. Isushi's reach with the naginata was keeping Chase at a distance, unable to close in with his shorter weapon.

As he retreated, Chase's foot caught on one of the fallen kijin corpses. He stumbled, and Isushi seized the opportunity. The naginata flashed forward, its blade slicing a deep gash across Chase's thigh.

Chase cried out in pain, falling to one knee. Blood poured from the wound, staining the sand beneath him. Isushi loomed over him, a triumphant grin on his face.

“And so it ends,” the warlord sneered, raising his weapon for the killing blow.

But Chase wasn't done yet. As Isushi brought the naginata down, Chase surged upward, ignoring the searing pain in his leg. He slammed his shield into Isushi's chest, knocking the warlord off balance. Before Isushi could recover, Chase's pick found a gap in the armor at Isushi's hip, sinking deep into flesh.

Isushi roared in pain and fury, stumbling back. Chase pressed forward, swinging his pick again and again. Most blows glanced off Isushi's armor, but a few found weak points, drawing blood.

The two combatants separated, both breathing heavily. Chase's vision was starting to blur from blood loss, while Isushi was favoring his wounded side. Concentrating, Chase did his best to not beat himself over the head as he focused on the Path of Tenacity, his vision clearing slightly.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as Chase and Isushi circled each other, both wounded but neither willing to concede. Chase could feel his strength ebbing away with each passing moment, the blood loss from his leg wound taking its toll. But he refused to give up, knowing that this was likely his only chance to take down the Uchmute warlord.

Isushi, for his part, seemed genuinely surprised by Chase's tenacity. The warlord's eyes narrowed as he reassessed his opponent, realizing that this human was more dangerous than he had initially believed.

“I underestimated you,” Isushi growled, his grip tightening on his naginata. “A mistake I won’t repeat.”

With surprising speed for his size, Isushi lunged forward, the naginata's blade flashing in the arena's torchlight. Chase raised his shield, but the force of the blow sent him staggering backward. Before he could regain his footing, Isushi was upon him again, raining down a flurry of strikes that Chase could barely defend against.

One particularly vicious blow shattered Chase's shield, sending fragments of bone flying. Chase cried out as shards sliced into his arm, but he didn't have time to dwell on the pain. Isushi's naginata was already coming around for another strike.

Desperately, Chase dove to the side, rolling across the blood-stained sand. As he came up, he saw an opening and took it without hesitation. His pick lashed out, catching Isushi in the back of the knee. The warlord roared in pain, his leg buckling beneath him.

Chase pressed his advantage, darting in close where Isushi's longer weapon was less effective. His pick found gaps in the warlord's armor, drawing blood with each strike. But Isushi was far from defeated. With a bellow of rage, the warlord dropped his naginata and caught Chase with a massive backhand, sending him flying across the arena.

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Chase hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs. He struggled to his feet, vision swimming, just in time to see Isushi charging towards him, having abandoned his weapon in favor of brute strength.

Time seemed to slow as Chase watched the warlord approach. He knew he couldn't match Isushi in raw power, but maybe he didn't have to. An idea formed in his mind, born of desperation and the knowledge that he had nothing left to lose.

Letting his hold on the Path of Tenacity fade, he instead brought up the Path of Precision, his vision swimming from losing the benefits of his more defensive Path.

As Isushi charged towards him, Chase stood his ground, gripping his pick tightly. He waited until the last possible moment, then ducked under Isushi's grasping arms. Using the warlord's momentum against him, Chase drove his pick upwards with all his remaining strength, aiming for the gap between Isushi's chest plate and helmet.

The pick struck true, sinking deep into Isushi's throat. The warlord's eyes widened in shock and pain as blood gushed from the wound. He staggered back, hands clawing at the weapon lodged in his neck.

Chase stumbled away, his own vision growing dark at the edges. He watched as Isushi fell to his knees, gurgling and choking on his own blood. The arena had fallen deathly silent, the Uchmute audience too stunned to make a sound.

With the last of his strength, Chase limped over to where Isushi knelt. The warlord looked up at him, eyes filled with a mixture of rage and disbelief.

“How?” Isushi managed to gasp out, blood bubbling from his lips.

Chase leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I had something worth fighting…”

“N…not that,” Isushi snapped, drawing on some measure of strength to demand one final answer from Chase. “How…how did you…avoid using magic enough…to resist the Umbulingo? Even the sl…slightest spell use should have…ensured your death.”

It suddenly clicked in Chase’s head, and he had to laugh. The virus, the poison that the Uchmute assassin had poisoned him with, it relied on him using active magic. With a smirk, and far more satisfaction than was probably healthy, Chase pulled up his Mystic Malediction curse and showed it to Isushi.

“I can’t use any spells at all, your poison did nothing to me,” Chase said, as Isushi’s eyes widened in shock and horror, before a last, rattling breath left the Uchmute leader.

He watched as the light faded from Isushi's eyes, the warlord's massive body slumping to the ground. As the reality of what had just happened sank in, the arena erupted into chaos. Uchmute warriors began pouring onto the sand, some rushing towards their fallen leader, others advancing on Chase with weapons drawn.

But Chase barely noticed. The adrenaline that had kept him going was fading fast, replaced by crushing exhaustion and pain. As his vision tunneled and his legs gave out, he saw a notification appear before his eyes:

Quest Completed: Whose Planet Is This?

Rewards: +15 Primary Characteristic, +10 Secondary Characteristic, +5 Tertiary Characteristic

Bonus Rewards: +15% Primary Characteristic, +10% Secondary Characteristic, +5% Tertiary Characteristic

At the same time, a rush of energy filled his body, as a second notification appeared in front of him:

Conquest Milestone Reached—Defeat your first Rival Leader

Reward: +5 Levels, Full Body Restoration, +50% Submission from Rival Leader’s Underlings

Every ache and pain he’d been feeling, his exhaustion, all of it vanished as Chase stood up to his full height and yelled at the charging Uchmute, “ENOUGH!”

The charging apes slid to a halt, fear adorning their faces, as Chase growled in annoyance and frustration.

“I am the one who killed your warlord, and I do not intend to leave the winner without claiming my prize!” Chase shouted, glaring at the crowd.

There was a brief pause, before a large ape wearing the armor of an Uchmute elite guard stepped forward.

“What…what prize do you wish, human?” the ape asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Chase paused, considering the question, before a smile slowly spread across his face, as he remembered some promises he’d made to himself, “First! The claws of the beast I slew upon first arriving here. Second, the head of Isushi!”

Quiet muttering filled the room, while Chase glared at the crowd of apes behind his mask. Chase stood tall amidst the chaos of the arena, his gaze sweeping over the stunned Uchmute crowd. The silence that followed his demands was deafening, broken only by the occasional whisper or shuffling of feet as the apes glanced nervously between their fallen leader and the human who had bested him.

Finally, the elite guard who had spoken before cleared his throat. “The... the claws you speak of are sacred relics. And Isushi's head...” He trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

Chase's eyes narrowed dangerously, “I didn't ask for your opinion. I defeated your leader in fair combat. By your own laws, his possessions - and his tribe - are now mine to claim.” He took a menacing step forward. “Unless you'd like to challenge me for them?”

The guard's eyes widened in fear, and he quickly shook his head. “N-no, great warrior. I... I will fetch what you have requested.” He scurried away, leaving Chase alone with the still-stunned crowd as two hesitantly approached and collected Isushi’s body.

As he waited, Chase took stock of his situation. The restoration from his milestone reward had healed his wounds and replenished his energy, but he was acutely aware of how precarious his position still was. One wrong move could turn this tentative victory into a bloodbath.

Minutes later, the guard returned, carrying an ornate wooden box and a cloth-wrapped bundle. With trembling hands, he presented them to Chase.

Chase opened the box first, revealing a set of six massive, gleaming claws. He nodded in satisfaction before turning his attention to the bundle. Unwrapping it, he found himself face-to-face with Isushi's severed head, its eyes still wide with the shock of defeat.

“Excellent,” Chase said, his voice carrying across the now-silent arena. He lifted Isushi's head high, addressing the crowd. “Let this be a reminder to all who would threaten me or mine. I am Chase Newell, and I claim leadership of this tribe by right of conquest!”

The proclamation hung in the air for a long moment before a lone voice called out from the crowd: “Hail Chase Newell, Slayer of Isushi!”

Like a dam breaking, the arena erupted into cheers and shouts of “Hail Chase Newell!”

The Uchmute, true to their warrior culture, seemed to have accepted their new leader - at least for the moment.

Chase allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction, but he knew this was only the beginning. He had a tribe to lead, an empire to navigate, and a world to conquer. But first, he had fallen comrades to honor and a base to return to.

As the cheers continued to echo through the arena, Chase turned to the elite guard. “Prepare a party to accompany me back to my outpost. We have much to discuss with my people.”

The guard bowed deeply, “At once, Lord Newell.”

Now he just had to figure out how he was going to explain this to Sikadi and the Frek’idh.