As soon as the guards moved out of earshot, Grimnir leaned close to Satou.
"You actually got them to accept," he said quietly. "I half expected them to just kill us on sight."
"Orc culture values strength and honor," Satou replied. "Insulting them enough that they had to prove their courage, then offering a challenge framed in their own traditions—it forced them to respond according to their cultural rules. Killing us outright would have looked weak."
"That's all well and good," Lyra said, "but you still have to actually win the fight. How are you planning to beat an orc chieftain?"
That was the question, wasn't it?
Satou pulled up his status screen, reviewing his skills one more time. He had sixteen mana points, a collection of abilities that had never been tested together in serious combat, and a sword that was barely functional.
Against an eight-foot-tall orc with decades of experience and muscles like iron.
"I need you all to understand something," Satou said quietly. "If I lose—when the fight clearly turns against me—I want you to grab Kira and run. Don't try to save me. Don't try to fight. Just run."
"Big brother—" Jessica started.
"Promise me," Satou insisted, meeting her eyes. "If you all die trying to save me after I lose, then my death means nothing. But if you survive, the tribe continues. Promise me you'll run if it comes to that."
Jessica's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded. "We promise."
Kelvin looked like he wanted to argue, but Lyra placed a hand on his shoulder and he reluctantly nodded as well.
"Good," Satou said. "Now let's talk about how I'm going to win this thing."
As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, the orc settlement transformed into a festival atmosphere. Warriors gathered around the arena—a circular space about thirty meters in diameter, marked by wooden posts and what looked like old bloodstains in the packed earth.
Torches were lit around the perimeter, casting dancing shadows. Orcs filled the viewing areas, their voices rising in anticipation of the coming entertainment. This was clearly a big event—apparently, watching their chieftain fight was a rare treat.
In the holding area, Satou was going through final preparations. He'd spent the last few hours testing his skills in subtle ways, trying to understand exactly how they might combine.
Earth Manipulation could reshape the ground beneath his opponent's feet—not dramatically, but enough to create uneven footing or small obstacles. Stone Spit could target specific vulnerabilities—eyes, joints, anywhere armor didn't protect. Poison Fang would need him to get dangerously close, but if he could land one solid bite...
His wolf-derived skills would help with awareness and night vision as the light faded. Pack Leader's Instinct would let him predict movement patterns and identify openings. And his Predator's Gaze might give him a psychological edge, making him seem more threatening than he actually was.
It wasn't much. But it would have to be enough.
A horn blew—deep and resonant, signaling the beginning of the trial.
Orc guards approached the holding area. "It's time, goblin. Say your prayers to whatever gods goblins worship. You're going to meet them soon."
Satou stood, rolling his shoulders to loosen tense muscles. He looked at his four companions one final time.
"Remember your promise," he said.
Then he followed the guards into the arena.
The roar of the crowd hit him like a physical wave. Hundreds of orc voices raised in bloodthirsty anticipation, chanting words he didn't understand but could easily interpret. They wanted blood. They wanted violence. They wanted to watch a goblin die.
Satou walked to the center of the arena, his small form dwarfed by the space and the massive audience surrounding him. The setting sun painted everything in shades of red and orange, appropriate for what was about to happen.
On the opposite side of the arena, Chieftain Urgak emerged from his longhouse.
He'd removed his shirt, revealing a torso covered in scars and ritual tattoos. His remaining arm bulged with muscle, and he carried a massive war axe that looked like it weighed more than Satou's entire body. Despite missing one arm, the chieftain moved with the grace of a practiced warrior.
He stepped into the arena to thunderous applause from his tribe.
An elderly orc—probably a shaman or elder—stepped forward to address the crowd.
"Warriors of the Iron Fang tribe!" the elder called out in Common, presumably for Satou's benefit. "Today we witness a challenge issued by this goblin against our chieftain. By the ancient laws of trial by combat, this challenge has been accepted. The fight continues until one combatant yields or dies. There are no other rules. May the strongest prevail!"
The crowd roared its approval.
Urgak and Satou faced each other across twenty meters of packed earth.
"Last chance to withdraw your challenge, goblin," Urgak called out. "Admit you're inferior, bow before me, and I'll make your death quick."
Satou's response was to draw his damaged sword and settle into a fighting stance.
Urgak's expression shifted from amusement to something resembling respect. "So be it."
The horn blew again.
And the fight began.
Urgak moved first, closing the distance with surprising speed for someone his size. His war axe swept in a horizontal arc that would have bisected Satou if it connected.
Satou dropped low and rolled forward, passing under the axe's arc. He came up inside Urgak's reach and slashed at the orc's exposed side.
The blade scraped across thick skin, drawing a thin line of blood but doing no serious damage.
Urgak's response was immediate. His knee came up, catching Satou in the chest and launching him backward. Satou hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs.
The crowd roared with approval.
Satou forced himself to his feet, gasping for air. One exchange and he already knew—this wasn't going to be a fair fight. Urgak was faster, stronger, and more skilled than any opponent Satou had faced.
Need to change tactics. Can't win through direct confrontation.
Urgak charged again, axe raised high for an overhead strike. But this time, Satou was ready.
He activated Earth Manipulation, turning the ground directly in front of Urgak into loose, muddy soil.
The chieftain's front foot sank into the unexpected softness, throwing off his balance just enough. His overhead strike missed by inches, the axe blade slamming into the earth instead of Satou's skull.
Satou immediately countered with Stone Spit, aiming for Urgak's face. Three shards shot out in rapid succession.
Urgak twisted his head, two shards missing entirely. The third caught him on the cheek, drawing blood but doing minimal damage.
"Tricks," Urgak growled, his eyes narrowing. "Interesting."