“Do you agree?” the woman asked as a few of her compatriots laid out weapons on the sand.

Sepeti nodded as he gingerly slid his eyepatch off. It was more out of pragmatism than anything, he didn’t want the present to be damaged or for it to get in the way during their duel. He had yet to fill the empty socket with anything and he still had full control over the muscles of his eyelids so he was sure that the woman and her cronies were staring at the vacant recess. He dropped the eyepatch on his pile of sweaty clothes as the leader’s words rumbled in his head.

The rules seemed too open ended. For one, there were too few of them. They seemed far too… fair. Duels were a thing on ‘Oseni and he’d had to participate in his fair share during his training. All of the dueling, local and state, was backed by powerful investors who did everything in their power to stack the deck in the favor of their fighter. What he’d fought for then was no pittance. This affair, in this tiny little Pit, was nothing compared to then. Yet he still felt apprehensive.

If neither side was going in with any distinct advantage or disadvantage, then why duel at all? Wouldn’t any being, human or otherwise, vie for benefits that would put them ahead, even if by a little?

This format was far too foreign for Sepeti. He couldn’t help but doubt the authenticity of the Elefani and their rules. Were they really this honest and open about things, even life and death matters?

A memory tugged at the fringes of his thoughts. When he’d been busy learning all he could about the various stages of society and the sorts of groups of people who sprung up throughout ‘Oseni’s long history. The ones he’d found most interesting were those who belonged to culture’s of honor. Whole societies built around the notion that reputation and honor was a social currency to be maintained and defended. He’d found it interesting because growing up under tyrannical megacorporations left very little room for ruminations on ‘honor’ and such. Maybe the Elefani were in that stage of development?

It made more and more sense as he thought it out. He’d have to confer with Gran at a later time, regardless of how annoying the anthropologist could get when he went off on tangents. But he was sure that his deduction was right.

That led him to another problem. There was no way for him to get out of this situation without hurting multiple people's feelings and senses of self-worth. If he won and killed the leader then the group, as a whole, might be honor bound to exact revenge on him. If he won and spared her, then her standing amongst her people would be hurt and she may seek retribution down the line. There was also his declaration of killing the liar. The one named Guilin, the smarmy little shit who still refused to look him in the eye.

Maybe he should have listened to Gran.

Sepeti let the doubt linger for a moment before expunging the weakness from his mind and body. Who, other than the Elefani and Gran, actually gave a single fuck about the honor of strangers? He certainly didn’t care.

This was going to be a tune up and a testing ground for him. He will win. He will find out the difference between the gap of a few levels and one of a far greater number. And he will kill a slimy little Elefani coward.

“I will allow you to choose the weapons,” the leader said, leaning against her side of the pit. Either she was being magnanimous or she was looking down on him. Whichever it was, she would come to regret giving up her agency in the matter.

Sepeti gave the laid out weapons a cursory look. Staves, halberds, axes, swords, all the major weapons were represented. They looked slightly different from what he’d seen and read about but they were distinct enough for him to easily recognize. They even had a selection of bows, crossbows, and handheld slings. He’d figured it out before but it was obvious that this world, or rather the regions he’d visited thus far, hadn’t advanced technologically to the point of handheld firearms. A pity, seeing as he’d enjoyed playing around with the Machina’s discarded weapons on the previous world. Good thing he’d thought to store some of their more impressive items in his dimensional subspace.

“I choose unarmed combat,” Sepeti said after he gave himself a moment to look like he was actually considering picking one of the weapons on display.

If he’d expected any of the Elefani to react to his choice he would have been disappointed. Instead, all they did was collect the weapons, rolling each pair into separate cloths so they wouldn’t be in the way or get damaged by the sand. Even the coward gave no indication of interest other than continuing to rub his neck. Sepeti hadn’t choked him all that hard so the man was obviously milking it.

“Fair enough, unarmed it is.”

“Before we start,” Sepeti said as the woman began to sink into a strange stance. He hadn’t noticed before, probably due to her layers of clothes that protected her from the elements, but she appeared to be constantly ready to fight. More doubts continued to pile up but he forcefully ignored them. “Will you honor my conditions?”

The woman looked at her group, then at Sepeti’s assailant, then back at him. She nodded then jutted out her chin before saying “We will.”

There was no hesitation. No delaying. No attempting to bargain for the life of one of her companions. Nothing. The woman was ready to fulfill her obligations. Fear curdled in Sepeti’s stomach. Fear and admiration. It had been quite some time since he’d come across anyone so decisive. Maybe these were people he could come to understand and learn from?

He pushed the thought out of his head. There was no time for idle thoughts. And there was even less time for idle words.

“Go–” before he could finish his single word sentence, the woman launched herself at him. There hadn’t been any fanfare, no announcements introducing the two combatants, no cheering from the adoring audience. Not a damned thing. There was agreement and then there was violence.

The woman’s bony foot caught the side of Sepeti’s head and his world did a quick spin. He staggered, coughed, then spat as a second kick caught him in the ribs.

Pain. It flared as he stumbled again.

Another kick knocked all the air out of him. He squealed as he tripped over his feet, trying with all his might to get his head in order.

A fourth kick caught him across the thigh. His leg buckled. One kick and the leg was done. He tried to roll forward but his body moved sluggishly. All he did was flop on his right side and send waves of pain through his shoulder.

Sprawled on his face as |Time Dilation| activated, everything slowed down. It gave him a few seconds to collect his thoughts. He felt the approaching danger of the woman falling into a sprawl on his back. Every strike had come from his right side, his blind side. And he hadn’t been able to react at all. Anger, fear, unnecessary emotions roiled in him but he fought them. What he needed was a cool head. Fighting angry had its place and time. This was not the place nor the time. Her strikes had been hard and fast but they lacked some power. Her speed was frenetic and he was going to have to quickly adjust to it.

The woman ground her shoulder into his back as the skill wore off. Her arms and legs began to snake up and under his own limbs, jockeying for prime position.

Sepeti caught both her wrists in either hand. Her skin tight shirt made it hard for him to keep a proper grip. She pushed him along the dirty ground, keeping her hips and legs free of his own so he couldn’t tangle her up with his slightly longer limbs.

Sepeti rolled his shoulder and attempted to flip himself and the woman over. The woman stepped back, freeing her arms from his grip and avoiding being caught by his attempted transition.

Sepeti sprung up onto his feet and whirled around just in time to catch a kick on his hastily raised forearm. It hurt. It definitely hurt. But it wasn’t enough to knock him down or out without catching him by surprise.

The woman jumped back and opened up just enough distance to allow both of them to breathe. She jumped back and forth in a bladed stance, left leg forward and hands down at her waist.

Sepeti squared himself to her, left leg slightly back. If he couldn’t see her strikes coming he’d just have to compensate by shortening the distance to the right side of his body. At least then, he figured, he wouldn’t have to deal with fully powered kicks. The way she held her hands told him that she was much more comfortable lashing out with her legs. But maybe that was just another layer of deception she was employing to make him lower his guard.

Over the span of a few short breaths, Sepeti formulated a plan. All that was left was trying to get his untrained host body to affect said plan.

He lashed out with a front kick. The woman reacted instantly, pivoting and throwing a spinning kick at his gut while avoiding his attack.

Sepeti stepped into the kick and trapped her ankle, hooking it in his elbow. He kicked again and swept her off her feet, pulling her trapped leg up before falling on her with his full weight. They both let out gasps as they hit the hard clay floor.

Sepeti pinned the woman’s arm under his leg as he moved to mount her. She struggled beneath him, kicking up at his back ineffectually as he straddled her chest and began to rain down punches and elbows.

The woman wriggled an arm out from under one of his legs and shifted his hips. She surprised Sepeti with her strength as she slipped out from under him and scrambled up onto her feet.

They reset again. Sepeti’s vision pulsated as he sucked down air greedily. His lungs felt cold, his limbs heavy. This damned host body was so out of shape it had made its own category of unfitness. His face and ribs ached from the unanswered strikes he’d taken. The familiar shooting pain rippled up his right leg.

He activated |Adrenal Rush| and everything dulled a bit. He was able to properly observe his opponent.

She was barely fazed. He’d had yet to land any meaningful hits. The most damage he’d done was when he’d had her on the ground. And that barely amounted to much. Her chest rose and fell steadily. This was little more than a warm up for her.

Anxiety began to stiffen Sepeti’s movements. He caught his breath and shuffled forward, holding his stance strong. Just to test the waters, he threw out a few weak punches.

The woman parried them as if he were a child. All the while maintaining her distance and bouncing back and forth on her feet.

He continued throwing out weak jabs, judging distance and waiting for the right moment. His mind reeled with plans. Maybe he could charge at her and use his slight height and weight advantage to bring her down again? Or maybe he could try to wear her down by attacking her legs?

Plans upon plans jangled around in his head. And none of them were satisfying. Impatience began to push him forward as he threw more and more testy jabs. Sweat beaded off of him with each unsuccessful punch as the adrenaline from his skill wore off. He was in a predicament and all his bluster and bravado from before was nowhere to be found.

He threw a sloppy kick at her front calf and she checked it. He stepped forward and tried to close the distance and she easily opened things up, lashing out with a swift kick to his forward leg. He threw out a weak feint then tried to follow it up with a heavy cross and found himself heaving as the woman kicked him in the gut and vacated all air from his lungs.

His frustration grew. His annoyance grew. Everything grew.

The shadow of a smirk crossed Delijia’s face. He was sure of it. And he lost his cool. Sepeti charged recklessly and tackled the woman. All he saw was red and that teasing little smirk.

Somehow, he wrapped both arms around her waist and took her down. He drove his shoulder into her midriff as they hit the floor and felt the air rush out of her. Amongst flailing limbs, Sepeti crawled up her sinewy body and pinned her again.

Instead of raining punches again, Sepeti wrapped his hands around her exposed throat and began squeezing. Gone was his subconscious hangup about sportsmanship and showmanship. All he cared about was inflicting damage on the woman.

He dug his thumbs up into the soft underbelly of her chin. She writhed beneath him, huffing and kicking as he continued to choke her.

Sepeti continued pushing his thumbs up and up. He knew it was painful. He could see the pain in her eyes as she struggled.

One of her arms slipped out from under his leg and she punched him in the groin. Pain flared as his balls were crushed by the short jabbing punch but he ignored it. She punched his privates again and he screamed, grip loosening around her throat. She punched him a third time, right in the same spot, and he let go of her throat.

Tears muddied his sight but he fought to ignore the excruciating pain, wrapping his legs around the woman’s waist as he slid around her and gained control of her back. Just like he had with the smarmy little shit earlier, he locked his legs and trapped her in his leg wrap.

She flailed about, throwing weak elbows and backward headbutts. No matter how she fought, the leg wrap was deep and she was unable to escape.

Sepeti forced her to cover her head, raining hammerfists and elbows. He even bit the back of her neck a few times out of sheer frustration.

The pair rolled around on the clay. Delijia yelled in frustration as she flailed her legs. She tried to lift herself off the ground but Sepeti’s weight was too much.

Sepeti reveled in being able to frustrate her as he pecked at any openings she gave him. A punch to the ribs here, an elbow to the ear there. Obviously, anything and everything was allowed here and he was going to take advantage one way or another.

As the woman grew increasingly frustrated she began to make more and more mistakes. Her openings increased and soon blood flowed from the side of her face. It trickled onto Sepeti and made both of them slick. Her desperation grew as she flailed harder.

Sepeti waited. He waited for her to grow ever more tired. He wanted her to feel just as toyed with as he had when they’d been on their feet.

She raised her chin, just for a moment, and Sepeti took it. He slid his arm around her throat and nestled the crook of his arm and bicep right against her windpipe. He sunk it in deep and pulled on his arm with his free hand.

A giggle, mad and frenzied, rose from Sepeti’s throat as he increased the pressure on the woman’s throat. Air hissed out of his mouth. Air hissed between her clenched teeth as she desperately clawed at his arm. She let out wild, stifled groans as she kicked and struggled.

“I surren–” the woman tried to speak but Sepeti straightened her out, using his wrapped legs and the tight chokehold to cut her off. “I SURREN–”

She couldn’t get a word out and he wasn’t planning on letting her. There would be no surrender. No, they were too far along for either one of them to give up. At least, that’s how Sepeti felt. He wanted a life. He was owed a life and he was going to take it, regardless of what anyone or anything said. This bitch was going to die and then he was going to claim the other life owed to him.

Sepeti grinned madly, face covered in blood. Whether it was his own or the woman’s was unclear. What was abundantly clear was the fact that he was enjoying every second of slowly squeezing the life out of her.

Sepeti’s muscles screamed for air as he continued to hold the chokehold. He didn’t care if she was breathing or not, he was going to hold it until he was satisfied. He wa—

A shadow fell across the dueling pair. Something hit the back of Sepeti’s head and the world went dark.

Cold water splashed and sent a shockwave through him. Sepeti spluttered as he choked on his saliva and some of the refreshing water. It continued to flow and the fear that he was being waterboarded woke him up.

Where the hell was he? What the hell was going on?

“Good yer up,” Gran said as he threw a towel at Sepeti. The giant took up most of the space within the cramped tent they were in.

“What happened?” Sepeti’s thoughts were completely jumbled.

“I interfered and voided the duel.” The giant was busy twisting his thick beard into braids.

Sepeti’s memories fell into place as he remembered what he’d been doing before ending up where he was. He ran through the wide gamut of emotions as the pieces came together.

He’d been fighting. For his life, basically. Against someone who proved to be more than his match. Message alerts dinged in his ears but none popped up as he unconsciously willed them not to flood his vision.

Scratches littered his arms and face. His ribs ached. The side of his head where he’d been kicked was tender. Every time he moved his right leg it ached. He hoped he didn’t have any cracked ribs. That would seriously hamper his ability to get things rolling.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because it wasn’t beneficial to me,” Gran said matter-of-factly. “I have some lines of inquisition that concern you. And Delijia owes me knowledge. I couldn’t have you killing her and affecting my pursuits. And I couldn’t have you getting yourself killed by her compatriots before I got my answers.”

Sepeti frowned as he gave the giant a thorough eyeing. It felt like this was the first time he was actually looking at his erstwhile acquaintance. The giant's usual accent was nowhere to be found. There was something menacing about the way he was talking. The giant spoke as if Sepeti and the woman were little more than points of interest that had caught his interest.

“You’ve gone and made things much, much harder. You’ve muddied the waters, as they say. I was this close to getting what little tidbit I needed. This close. And you went and fucked it up.”

Gran’s voice was quiet. It was cool, calm, and collected. And yet, Sepeti could feel the heat of the giant's rage.

“How?” Sepeti croaked, throat suddenly dry. Something about Gran’s quiet anger made him extremely nervous. All thoughts of the duel and his desperate struggle slipped from his mind.

“You little humans, so ignorant. So full of yourselves. So fucking annoying.” Gran seemed to be talking to him. The giants usually gray skin seemed to grow darker as his face became thunderous. Shadows moved to envelope his features as his heavy brows drew downward and further obscured his face. “You all think in the short term. Even more so for you selfish little Offworlders. Why? Why do I have to be straddled with nurturing these foolish, insignificant little things?”

Sepeti couldn’t breathe. Whoever or whatever he was talking to made sure of that. This wasn’t the Gran he, barely, knew. This was a hard, powerful, malignant being. And, for the first time in such a very long time, he felt actual fear. Not the run-of-the-mill type. No, this was something much more primal and ferocious. This fear plucked at the strings of his instincts and he wanted to get away from the source. He wanted to get away from Gran.

But he couldn’t.

Gran sighed deeply and all the pressure in the room lifted. The large man flashed his jagged smile and his face lightened. The primal emotions Sepeti had felt dissipated like fog upon the sun's approach.

“Next time, listen to me when I ask ya to do something. All right?”

Gran’s sleepy accent was back as everything about him softened. The buzzing warnings in his head died down as his stomach unfurled itself.

Sepeti nodded meekly, unable to use his voice. He wanted to apologize. Or rather, something told him to apologize. But he fought the urge. There were limits to everything and this was as far as he was willing to concede. Never mind the fact he had been ready to grovel and beg for mercy had the giant demanded it.

“Because I interfered, we'll be leaving as soon as yer good and ready to get moving. Hopefully, that’s sooner rather than later. We still have some preparations to take care of and information to gather. I’ll help ya choose a collection and an affiliation because that’ll make moving around easier for both of us.”

Gran bombarded him with information as he struggled to keep up. What the hell was the giant talking about?

“This is yers, hold on to it,” Gran handed him the leather flask. “Keep it in yer inventory or something, just as long as it’s out of sight then it won’t cause any trouble. I’m sure yer confused by what I’m going on about. But just go with the flow and keep up.”

“You’re,” Sepeti cleared his throat, swallowing a dry lump. “You’re going with me? To where?”

“Dunno yet. We gotta get some info before we can make a move. Ya got a quest to fulfill and I’m the right one to help fulfill it.”

“How do you know about that?” Sepeti was sure he had never mentioned his forced quest to anyone, let alone Gran.

“Boba told me.”