It was a temporary solution, knocking him back like this, and she didn't love doing it. Of the people she'd fought recently, he was the only one that even approached being a decent person. A person willing to sell his people out to the Demon Army, sure, but his options were limited and he did seem to be picking the least bad one. The fact that he ultimately wasn't doing anything different than the Head with his little betrayal probably would strike him as comical if not for, well, everything. It didn't really change anything, though. They were running out of time to pull this off without anyone getting hurt. Already she could see the worry on the Head’s face as it started to dawn on him that the fight might go a way other than he intended. There was something to his movements that seemed more on edge than made sense.

  She wondered just how nervous he really was to be looking down the barrel of a Challenge for his position. One that he'd instigated himself due to a momentary lapse in judgment. Guys like him didn't often run into actual consequences for their actions, which made them get a little frantic when that possibility started rearing its head. That was exactly why he was starting to cast a cruel eye towards the first of Balar's children. Gretta, was it? Len felt like she should've tried harder to learn their names, but she'd been so focused on other things that it had slipped her mind to consider the basic pleasantries.

  If she let this drag out too long, he was gonna take that knife of his and decide to offer Balar some extra motivation which wasn't something she wanted on her conscience at the moment. Sighing inwardly at what she was about to do, she looked the trader dead in the eyes, threw up her guard as much as she could, and prayed that he didn't abuse the opportunity that she gave him. Growling, the man looked at her guard, considered his options for a moment, then delivered a punch with all the might that his name implied directly into her crossed arms. Len was sent hurtling backwards from the blow, crashing into one of the poles that supported the pavilion. The wood first groaned in protest then splintered as the force of the blow transferred from her into it. She fell to the ground with a wet thump and gasped desperately for air as the pain of the damage she'd just taken registered in her brain.

  The stars exploding around her head made it impossible to get a real clue what was going on around her but slowly she began to recognize the face standing over her. It was Cammie screaming something desperate at her, a look of pleading for permission plain on her face. Len shook her head vigorously, both to clear it, and to deny the imp the slightest impression that she approved of any actions she might take. Balar at least had the decency to be stalking over slowly as the crowd cheered. Each step thundered in Len's ears even though there was no possibility that she was really hearing it, some trick of her mind as the weight of his punch continued to ravage her slender frame.

  "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish here, Lenore, it's too late. We've lost. The bastard got what he wanted and now my only hope is a swift banishment with my family. Even if you somehow get past me, you can't be so stupid as to imagine that it'll be a fair fight. He'll use every trick you can imagine to hold onto that throne of his. It's hopeless."

  "Can't say I've ever liked that word," Len coughed. "It's the sort of thing that cowards use to justify themselves when they've already given up. Doesn't matter how stacked the deck is, there's always something you can hope for. Doesn't mean you'll get it, but every once in a while. If you're lucky enough. If you're quick enough. Well, the universe provides."

  He looked at her in confusion, then followed her gaze. Up in the stands, near the Head's chair where he'd had Balar's family on display, the guards had all fallen. Standing in their place was an annoyed looking Taylor glaring down at the combatants.

  "You'd damn well appreciate this, you pain in the ass."

  "Hah! I knew you'd show up. No way you were gonna leave me hanging."

  "You bet your ass I was," Taylor yelled back in irritation. "Just be glad I was feeling generous."

  "All right, then, man," she said to her opponent. "I'm gonna need you to trust me one more time."

  He sighed in resignation and nodded. Now that his family was out of immediate danger, he was willing to cooperate again.

  All right, Cammie, she thought at the shade, not actually sure if her words or intent would carry, but figuring it was as good a time as any to find out. You know what I want to do here, don't you dare blow it.

  "Oooh, so scary," Cammie responded to her, resting a slender hand on her shoulder. "As you wish, oh master mine. It'll be done."

  Len reached up to touch the girl's hand with hers, then clenched that hand into a fist. Cammie vanished and Len felt a surge of power flow through her right arm. Black veins jutted out of her arm as she charged Balar who was likewise lunging at her. Right as his charge reached its peak, Len drove her shadow-enhanced fist into his core, launching him backwards and sending the pulsating shadow into him, rushing through his body and sending him to the ground like a sack of meat.

  There was a moment's hush in the arena as everyone wondered what had just happened. The Head stared down in horror at what he'd just witnessed, tried to call for his guards, but found that they'd all been dispatched already.

  "There you have it, asshole. I killed my friend for you, just like you demanded. Thing is, I won't be letting you kill his family. You lift one finger to harm them and my friend up there will gut you like a fish. It'll make my life harder, and probably leave your people with no idea who's running things but if I'm honest with you, that's not my biggest concern right now. Now then, your rules are pretty clear: I beat your champion. You now can either step down and leave me in charge, or you can take one last chance to hold onto your power and face me. After what you made me just do, though, don't imagine for a heartbeat that I'm letting you walk out of this ring alive."

  There was a moment, just a moment, where Len thought the man would actually turn tail and run. Then the rhythmic stomping of the assembled members of the clan began to make their presence known. Whether they were stomping in approval or in challenge of the man, she couldn't say, but they set the tone of the moment and made it obvious to all that his retreat wouldn't be accepted here. Bellowing a challenge, he cast off the ceremonial cape he'd been wearing and charged down to the arena, grabbing a massive spear along the way. When he reached her, he bellowed again and slammed the spear repeatedly on the ground around him in challenge. The massive pole bent with each impact before springing back with shocking speed. Len eyed him warily, then picked up one of the swords that littered the arena.

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  Len was rather proud of herself for not gulping in reaction to his display. Sure, she was better suited to taking him on than a lot of these people, but the sight of that massive polearm was daunting, nonetheless. She considered her options. Again, it was tempting to rely on Cammie. Frankly, the girl's help, this problem would be over in a heartbeat. It wouldn't sit right with her, though, considering the overall ramifications of relying on that power any time but the direst. No, it'd be better to just handle... that massive spear and surprisingly fit man on her own. Shaking off the haze that she had left over from Balar's one blow, she got to work on the task in front of her.

  This man meant to kill her, that much was plain. There was a burning hatred in his eyes that matched the worst that she'd seen from others. It wasn't the hate that set her on edge, though, it was the battlerage. Sure, the Head hadn't done much of his dirty work for many years now, he'd spent that time in the lap of luxury letting other champions fight for him. But the lust for slaughter? For inflicting pain on others just to see them suffer? That certainly hadn't faded. There was madness in those eyes that gazed back at her and she very much did not like it.

  "Well come on then, girl," he said with a sneer. "Come and die by my hand. When I'm finished with you, your wench up there will be next."

  Len stifled a wholly inappropriate giggle. She wasn't completely sure of her own chances of victory here, but the thought that he'd try to take Taylor on? Hell, the only reason Len had stood a chance was because she'd had supernatural aid on her side. Supernatural aid that she would've rejected if she'd been asked, but she supposed it had all worked out for the best. This guy was clearly used to dealing with direct assaults. Cassius wouldn't have been able to get anywhere near him if not. An assassin that had clearly run out of patience for this game would mop the floor with him. Unfortunately, he wasn't Taylor's problem. He was Len's.

  She was tempted to give in to his taunt, just charge forward and let the chips fall where they may. Caution being the better part of valor, though, she slowed herself down. She was still shaken from the fight with Balar, the Head was fresh. She had a standard sword, he had the massive reach of his own size and the spear. Also, it's what he wanted her to do. Instead of heeding his challenge, she just smiled pleasantly and beckoned him to her. He stared at her, mouth agape that she'd dare refuse even that simple command, then roared and bull-rushed at her, spear at his side.

  He closed the gap between them in only a few moments and whipped the spear of his sideways with all the considerable strength he had to muster, probably enough to break Len in half. She Frantically dove to the side, letting the spear whistle harmlessly overhead then rolled back onto her feet and tried to close the final couple of feet between them, but he bounded back easily and took another swipe at her that she was able to parry with her blade. The force of the strike still jarred her, and made her arm go numb for a moment.

  "Is that all the mighty Head has to offer," she sneered, ignoring the protestations of her stinging limb. "I'd have expected more of one who's sat so long on that throne. Are you really strong enough to lead your people at this point? Might be smarter for you to just pass on the title to someone younger."

  Len was fairly certain that there wasn't a literal translation for the epithet he spat at her, but she could imagine any number of ones that would've gotten her close. She just put on her most charming smile and dodged away as a hail of spear strikes fell on the area she'd just been occupying. The speed at which he wielded that thing was impressive, but he didn't have quite the accuracy that his moves would lend one to believe. She was starting to get a feel for his movements and every once in a while, she'd slip close enough to threaten him. He'd correct every time, force her back with a furious strike or leap backwards himself to avoid the risk. Every time, though, she was getting closer, and he knew it.

  "So tell me, big man," she said with a forced grin. "How much DID he offer you? You can't have really have thought that this would turn out well for your people. At absolute best they were going to end up as 'forced labor', totally different than slaves, of course, to toil the rest of their lives at the whim of Claymar's war engine."

  "Bah," the Head spat. "My people live to serve me, so long as my fate is secured, they will rejoice."

  "Yeah, can't say that's the way it's worked in my experience, pal."

  Len spared a glance at the onlookers. They'd both been talking loud enough to reach the crowd, and there were some rumblings at his comment there. The reality of this fight was that she had more to do here than just beat him. She needed to prove him unfit to lead on every conceivable level. It was kind of bullshit, she thought, that all he had to do was kill her, but she had longer-term goals to achieve here than merely holding onto a title. She had to secure that right of leadership in their hearts here and now or else she'd be facing nothing but pain and aggravation for years to come.

  She was spending so much brainpower on gaming out what she needed to do in this fight that she almost forgot to dodge a blow and ended up off-balance. Sensing an opportunity, the Head dropped the end of his spear into the ground and used it to kick up sand in Len's face. Wincing back and closing her eyes to protect them, Len had just enough time to get her weapon up to deflect a crushing overhead strike. The force of the blow carried through her guard and drove the flat of her blade into her shoulder, stinging fiercely.