Jertann was a good fighter; based on the limited interaction, a good brother and friend as well.

But observant, he was not, as evidenced by the way he walked forward toward the beast that the group had just downed, uncaring of the large group of rivals that was walking toward us, their weapons raised to make a point — and not a friendly point.

I looked at Karak, who just shrugged in resignation. Clearly, it was not the first time.

I sighed, ignoring my desire to complain even as I could see the growing chaos. I was the one who picked Jertann as my access to the growing militia-gang situation that was going on, which meant I wasn't in a position to complain.

Silas proved to be more observant of two, and halfway onto the beast, she poked Jertann's side, getting his attention.

"It's going to be fun, right," I said to Karak as I took a step forward. Karak didn't say anything, but he wasn't good enough to hide his surprise as he watched me walk closer. He gazed towards the other Red group — which was getting away steadily — before turning back, a question on his face.

A man of few words, indeed.

I shrugged and stood next to him, but while Karak was paying attention to the approaching Blacks, my attention was on the Reds, particularly the two that were whispering to others, even going as far as grabbing the arm of one who looked determined to come and help.

It was confirmed no help was incoming. This wasn't missed by the Blacks either, their gait getting more and more confident.

Now, all I needed to decide was how to handle the situation. The conservative choice was to ask Jertann to pull back and let the Blacks have the kill, avoiding the problem at the cost of a little reputation. Other Reds would be annoyed by our immediate retreat, and no doubt affect Jertann's future position.

And, from my experienced perspective, such a change had the potential to be troublesome. At first glance, Jertann looked like a fringe member with little impact, but as we moved farther away from the forest fire, the more dangerous our surroundings would become. This would mean, as one of the better combatants — from what I had seen, he could take down anyone that's currently fighting on the line in single combat — his reputation would inevitably rise.

Until he became a leader candidate for their little disorganized group.

Their ploy to prevent that was simple, yet effective. Even if Jertann did the smart thing and managed to suppress his temper, it would leave the credit of the kill to Blacks. And, as a consequence, destroying his chances for leadership before it even began.

Not that it mattered. His furious expression showed his decision. Now that he noticed, he would fight. And, that had dangerous implications, regardless of the outcome. The consequences of defeat were obvious, but even victory had its disadvantages.

Being the tallest tree sounded fun, but not during a storm.

I ignored the temptation to pull back. The whole reason I chose to join Jertann was to use his presence to earn some legitimacy in the camp, and while retreating would have been the safest for the short term, it would have a detrimental effect later on.

Finding my way in a new world was difficult enough without a reputation for cowardliness.

Still, that left a challenge for more. Neither victory nor defeat was a palatable option.

Well, unless I rigged the game a bit.

Luckily, I had a lifetime of experience rigging such situations. The first rule of any con, give the opponent an offer that is too good to be missed. "Goad them to ask for a duel, one against two, and they can pick whoever they wish," I whispered softly, impossible to be heard by anyone but Karak who was next to me, and even then, he needed his Perception.

He looked at me, his wider-than-usual eyes the only display of his shock, but rather than answering, I took a step back, behind him, my shoulders slouched as if I was as frail as my age implied.

A nod later, he snapped his finger. Silas turned to him, and Karak gestured for her to walk closer. It was a sign of their trust that even with the upcoming battle, she broke the formation momentarily and walked close to Karak.

After a rapid chain of whispers that they aligned on the strategy, they moved to join Jertann, and I stayed behind them, still doing my best to look frail. It was a trick that would work only once, and I wanted to milk it as much as I could.

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"What do you want?" Jertann muttered as we moved to catch up, ignoring the fact that he was alone, trusting them to catch up.

"We're here to take our kill, of course, you big oaf. Even a moron like you should know that," one of the Blacks said as he took a step forward. "Pity your pathetic god doesn't unlock your intelligence."

"Mahruss, you're pushing your luck," Jertann muttered, his fingers tightening around his hammer as he took a step forward, which made his opponent smile. Understandable, as they were the crowded party — with two of their groups merged, they had more than twenty combatants, and it would be ugly to fight against just four."

"Wait," Silas shouted, and Jertann did.

"I see that you're still listening to her like an obedient dog, Jertann. Nothing changed, right?" he said, but that didn't work well enough to anger him. Even Silas rolled her eyes at the blatant goading and was about to ignore it when Karak poked her side, signaling her that it was a good opportunity.

"Why don't you come here and we have a duel, you sniveling coward, and we'll see if you can learn your lesson this time?" she taunted.

"Why should I, when we already have the numerical advantage," Mahruss answered. "Your little group doesn't seem to be willing to back you up. They're rightfully afraid of us."

"Well, you have, but let me ask you a question, Do you know how many Health points are required to recover from a crushed skull?" Karak said, his calm and methodical delivery making the question even scarier. "Or we can handle it with a duel, and the winner takes the beast, what do you say?"

"That's…" Mahruss said before looking back. I recognized his expression, it was the panic of someone realizing that, if something went wrong, they would be responsible for the fallout. "Why should we accept one-to-one, when we have the numerical advantage," he said, then.

"One against three, then and you pick the opponent," Silas said as she raised her axe, and pointed herself, then Karak and Jertann, avoiding me purposefully.

I barely held back from shaking my head in disapproval. That pointing was too obvious, almost like promising there was no trap before leading someone forward, and Silas' stiff attitude as she tried to play the role hardly helped.

An actress, she was not.

Mahruss glanced in indecision, then his gaze caught mine. At that moment, I let my gaze widen, and let out a soft whimper, the kind that would be heard by anyone with Perception. Mahruss frowned, getting even more suspicious, but the whimper was not aimed at him.

"We accept," another Black declared as he burst forward, coming from his place right at the back of the line.

"What are you—" Mahruss started, but he was quick to be silenced.

"That's enough yapping, we need to move," he said as he pointed at me. "We chose him to duel, you morons," he declared before he gestured to two of his friends.

Mahruss looked like he wanted to argue, but then, one of his friends reached and pulled him back. I caught his gaze, which was tense and thoughtful, showing that he recognized the trap, yet let it continue.

It seemed that the Reds weren't the only group dealing with infighting.

"Oh, what a shock," Silas said as she grabbed Jertann's arm, ready to intervene. He didn't try to, of course, as he had a much better understanding of my true power. He just looked surprised that I was willing to reveal myself.

I wasn't happy with the necessity, but in a way, it was a good way to create an alibi for my existence.

"What's the rules," Silas interrupted. "First blood or submission."

"First blood, of course," my opponent answered with a smirk that he no doubt thought to be an amazing opportunity to make a name for himself in his little group. He looked at the two men who stood behind him, one armed with a spear, the other with an axe. "Leave him to me," he said as he raised his sword. "Just make sure they don't intervene, and I'll teach them about daring to stand against us."

It was a long-winded speech, and far too loud to be actually targeting us. It was clear to impress his own group.

He started walking toward me slowly, which gave me one last moment to finalize my decision among the options, a short yet efficient battle where I defeat him painlessly, or an extended fight where I play with him a bit, even give him hope before I pulled the rug from under him.

Then, I noticed the Reds, who had been done their best to stay away earlier, were coming forward. I looked at the one that was on the front and saw the same one who had been working to keep the others back — which suggested they were not here to help.

A quick victory it was, I decided, but I decided to ignore the painless part. "Let's see just how long you can resist, old man—" my opponent muttered before I dashed forward. He swung his sword despite being shocked at my sudden dash, but it took a while for him to succeed.

I swung my dagger to parry, not neglecting to swing it to completion to fake their skill-based combat, the difference in Strength making it trivial to bounce his attack away. He froze for a moment — a side effect of an interrupted skill — while I used the opportunity to grab his wrist.

And twisted.

There was not much difference between a submission hold and an attempt to break an arm. Just a slight difference in angle and the opening was filled with the distinct sound of a broken bone. "First blood," I declared calmly.

And, because I didn't like people who picked on the elderly, I kicked him toward his group as well. "First blood," I said as I pointed at his shattered arm. "Or does it only count if it comes from the dagger?" I said. Then, I gave the other two a deadly smile while the first one healed.

"N-no need, that's the first blood," one of them stammered as he disappeared into the crowd.

"Good," I said as I pointedly turned back to the rest of the group. Jertann just nodded, aware that it was not even the full range of my strength, but Silas watched me in shock, not expecting that. Karak just nodded, showing he expected something like this. "Now, it was very stressful and dangerous for an old man like me. Why don't we leave and trust our friends to hold the fort," I said and started walking back to the camp.

The real trickery was just starting…