At least, that’s what it looked like to me.

  To pretty much anyone else, it would’ve been downright unsettling to watch Malo and Kaelyn squaring off in the middle of a tavern. A few nearby patrons froze mid-drink, whispering anxiously to one another, while others quietly shuffled toward the exit, hoping to avoid getting dragged into whatever was about to unfold.

  As for me, well, I’ve never been the type to pass up free food.

  I scooped another spoonful of the thick, savory stew Mayern had slid in front of me and let out a satisfied hum. While the tension in the room tightened like a bowstring and the group teetered further and further toward utter chaos, I just kept eating.

  You should stop them.

  “And how would I do that?”

  By talking to them? Yo, what kind of dumb question-

  “It’s not in my place to do that. You really think two hotheaded people like them would listen to a kid like me?”

  You’ve proven yourself already, so they should at least hear you out.

  Maybe they would.

  But as I continued to watch them, something within made me stay.

  I can’t really put my finger on it.

  “Woah, what’s up with you all?” a sudden voice called out.

  I turned toward it, my eyes settling on none other than Zachary Joost.

  He still wore that same snakelike grin, gliding into the middle of our mess as if he’d been waiting for his cue. With casual confidence, he slung an arm around both Malo and Kaelyn.

  “My man Malo, no need to be doing all of this. Too much talking and not enough eating.” Zachary didn’t even wait for a response as he just snatched a chicken leg off a nearby plate and shoved it straight into Malo’s mouth.

  Malo let out a muffled, confused noise as he begrudgingly chewed, only for the bewilderment to melt into hunger as he realized he wanted more.

  “And Kaelyn, my friend,” Zachary continued smoothly, “I should be seeing that pretty face of yours laughing and eating heartily.”

  Kaelyn shot him a murderous look. “What did you—”

  Whatever she planned to say died instantly as Zachary popped a handful of berries right into her mouth.

  The transformation was immediate. Both Malo and Kaelyn, now more focused on eating than fighting, returned to their seats with surprising compliance.

  He must have been used to squashing fights within this group.

  Zachary sighed dramatically. “Wow, the meathead duo really hasn’t changed.”

  Mayern shrugged. “They always try to fight whenever they see each other.”

  Zachary gave him a pointed look. “You know, it doesn’t help when you’re the one egging them on.”

  Mayern cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Zachary slid into a chair beside Nyra. “What’s up, Nyra? Still sharpening those knives even though they’re already perfectly sharp?”

  “Never be satisfied,” she replied simply.

  “No, I really think you should—” He stopped himself. His attention shifted to Corven. “My man Corven, how are you doing?”

  “Fine,” Corven replied with a small smile.

  “Good, good. Honestly, after everything with Kaelyn earlier, I thought you’d be, you know?”

  “It was pretty crazy.” Malo chimed in between bites. “Kaelyn, how are you going to try to fight Corven after already winning your own duel? Being battle-hungry has its limits.”

  “Limits? I have no limits,” Kaelyn said smugly, not even looking up from her food.

  “No, that’s not what he meant—” Zachary tried to clarify.

  “Ah, uhm, it was okay. I was ki-kind of scared when she started running after me,” Corven admitted.

  Kind of was very much an understatement.

  Zachary tapped Corven lightly on the shoulder. “Well, at least you’re okay. And hey, you’re still in the tournament. Nice job!”

  Corven’s smile widened. “Thank you.”

  Then Zachary’s gaze drifted to the corner, landing on Noll. His smile dimmed. “He’s still doing that, huh?”

  “Yep,” Mayern said flatly.

  “Hey, Noll, how are you doing, buddy?” Zachary called over.

  “A shadow does not need pity, for pity is what differentiates a hero from the scum that thrives within the night,” Noll whispered back.

  Zachary blinked. “Rock on.”

  He finally turned to me. “Oh, Beric. Sup?”

  “Hello.”

  He blinked, froze, then did a full double take. “Wait. Beric?” His expression shifted into pure shock. “What are you doing here?”

  “I invited him,” Kaelyn said, still digging at her teeth to dislodge some stubborn piece of food. “And he’s eating here now.”

  “Oh. Cool.” Zachary nodded, recovering his composure with practiced ease. “So, Beric, how are you, man?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Sweet, sweet.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, I hope you’re having a great time here. Being a kid and all, this place might be a lot.”

  “It was at first,” I admitted, “but I’m okay now.”

  “Nice to hear.” Zachary swiped something off Mayern’s plate and popped it into his mouth as he spoke. “I’ve got to be honest, when I saw you matched against Malo, I thought it was a joke.” He chuckled. “A kid versus Malo? Who was behind choosing the matches and thought that was okay?”

  “Probably Adam,” Corven said dryly.

  Zachary scoffed. “That lazy referee? Yeah, actually, the more I think about it, the more it does seem like something he’d screw up. Something as unfair as that fight has got to be the result of lazy matchmaking.” He paused, looking genuinely thoughtful before shrugging it off with a grin. “But hey, you ended up winning. And I’ve got to say, I’m a fan now.”

  He held out a hand. “You’re going to do great things, Beric. I can feel it.”

  I shook his hand. “Thank you.”

  “Look at you,” Mayern muttered, “stealing my food and the damn spotlight.”

  “Oh don’t be butthurt, Mayern. You’re still the main star, buddy.” Zachary assured. “Well, right now, Beric is, but close enough.”

  He snapped his fingers as another thought hit him. “Oht, Beric, you’ve got a lot of surprises, don’t you?” He began ticking them off. “Using two sticks to fight Malo, taming magic, your Sprite, that Form, and you even went blow for blow with Malo at the end.”

  “Not exactly blow for blow,” Malo corrected while wiping his mouth. “His hits weren’t as heavy as mine. But he was taking my attacks when he had to.”

  Zachary winced. “The same attacks that make grown men puke their breakfast.”

  “Beric’s Form looked patient,” Nyra said suddenly.

  We all turned toward her.

  “It was like watching a master deliberately pick the perfect movements to shut down his opponent.”

  “That’s what I felt too,” Corven added. “Even though Beric’s younger than us, it felt like he had more experience for a moment.”

  Uh oh.

  Are they on to you?

  “He must have trained hard,” Kaelyn said plainly.

  “No, I think it’s more than just training hard. That kind of stuff takes talent.” Zachary countered.

  “And the Three Sages were the ones who trained him,” Malo added, as if that alone explained everything.

  Nyra nodded. “With those three teaching him, and with his own talent, it only makes sense he’d end up here.”

  “Well, what exactly is his talent?” Mayern asked suddenly.

  Silence fell over the table.

  “It’s not physicality,” Malo said first.

  “Uh, it’s probably not magic either,” Corven added. “Though using body-strengthening magic at that level still takes skill.”

  “It’s more than simple weapon handling,” Nyra said thoughtfully.

  “I felt something in the way he fought earlier, but that can’t be all of it,” Kaelyn murmured.

  “No matter how large a shadow grows, it becomes nothing when the light fades,” Noll whispered from his corner.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Zachary squinted at me. “Now that I’m really looking at you, your hair-”

  One by one, their eyes shifted onto me.

  Before I could even think of a response, a sudden shout erupted from across the tavern.

  Zachary was the first to react. “Oh, shoot, Tao’s doing it!”

  In a flash, he grabbed another bite off Mayern’s plate and bolted toward the door.

  The rest immediately stood as well, apparently knowing exactly what that meant.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, getting to my feet.

  “Oh right, you don’t know,” Mayern said. He motioned for me to follow. “Come on, there’s a cool show happening.”

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Following the group, we pushed through the bustling crowd, weaving between people until we squeezed into a small open space carved out by the sheer noise and movement.

  At the center of this clearing sat a table, set apart almost like its own little arena. Two people sat on opposite sides, while a third hovered between them like a referee. I didn’t recognize the man on the right or the one in the middle, but the panicking guy on the left was unmistakably Volk.

  “Yikes, already?” Zachary muttered under his breath.

  “What is this?” I asked, watching as the crowd instinctively shifted aside to give our group space.

  “At every tournament, festival, or any kind of gathering like this,” Zachary began, pointing toward the man on the right, “Tao over there hosts a small game.”

  Tao was of middle height, but he held himself with this solid, quietly dangerous confidence that seemed to press against the air itself. His skin was a warm tan, faintly marked with small lines, his short black hair combed neatly back. He wore a dark fitted vest over a light linen shirt, sleeves rolled up. The vest was clean but worn, clearly something he used often but took care of.

  On the table between the players sat six cups, all of which were placed upside down.

  “It’s a game with six cups, all face-down, each containing a coin,” Mayern explained.

  “A coin?” I echoed.

  He nodded. “Three bronze, two silver, and one gold. You pick a cup, and whatever coin is inside becomes your points for that round. Bronze is worth one, silver is worth three, and gold is worth five.”

  “Both Tao and the challenger start with ten points, sometimes more depending on the match, and the only way to win is to have more points by the end,” Nyra continued. “At the start of each round, the referee flips a coin to decide who chooses a cup first. Both sides also have to put in one point as an ante.”

  “But it’s not as simple as it looks,” Zachary said. “When you pick a cup, you’re allowed to peek at what coin is underneath. The other guy can then try to steal it by spending a point. But the original picker can buy it back by spending one as well. That's where the game truly begins, with the stealer being allowed to spend two to actually steal it, and the holder spending three if he wants to keep it. It goes like that up to four, then five, which is where it usually ends.”

  “And all those points used to steal and rebuy?” Corven added. “The one who ends up stealing or rebuying gets the points subtracted at the end. So you’re constantly judging if the cup is worth the risk.”

  “You have to keep track of everything,” Malo said between bites. “Your remaining points, the coins still hidden, how much you’re willing to spend, if your opponent is bluffing, or if you should bluff.”

  “And when all six cups are done,” Kaelyn finished with a spark in her eyes, “the player with the higher total takes the entire pot: every bronze, silver, and gold coin collected from all the games today.”

  Volk clutched his hair with both hands, eyes flicking between the cup and Tao like he was watching his own execution approach.

  Tao only smiled.

  The referee, an extremely average-looking man who blended into the tavern crowd so well he might have been one of the spectators, cleared his throat and asked, “Will you steal?”

  Volk ground his teeth.

  “I think Volk’s down right now,” Noll whispered.

  I didn’t jump this time.

  “It’s probably best for him to pass,” Malo said.

  “But Tao knows that,” Kaelyn countered. “And if he does pass, then Tao’s probably already picked the gold coin.”

  Hold on, something doesn’t add up.

  My brows furrowed. “Wait, what do you mean he chose the golden coin? I thought you only knew what you picked after choosing and lifting the cup?”

  “That’s the thing,” Mayern said. “Tao’s cheating.”

  “He is?” I asked.

  “Definitely.” Nyra didn’t even hesitate. “He hasn’t lost a single time in all of the years that this game of his has started. It’s impossible for that to be achieved in a clean way.”

  “Aren’t you just salty because you lost to him?” Zachary jabbed.

  “You lost too,” Nyra snapped back.

  I blinked. “So, if he’s cheating, why is he allowed to keep playing?”

  The group collectively sank into uncomfortable silence.

  “You see, Beric,” Mayern sighed, “no one’s actually been able to prove it.”

  “Huh?”

  “If he were using magic, someone would’ve detected it by now,” Kaelyn said.

  “And everyone’s tried everything,” Nyra grumbled. “The cups aren’t marked, the coins sound the same, and they even switched seats to check if he had an angle.”

  “We all know he’s cheating,” Corven finished, “but without proof, no one can stop him.”

  But, if everyone was sure he was cheating, and he’d never lost, then-

  “Why do people still go up against him?”

  “Some folks think they’ve finally figured him out,” Malo said bluntly, “and then they lose a lot of money.”

  “Hey, that wasn’t aimed at me, right?” Zachary said.

  Malo shrugged. “You steal from Mayern.”

  “You make him pay for your food,” Zachary shot back.

  “With permission.”

  Back at the table:

  “I’ll steal,” Volk said.

  The crowd let out a collective groan.

  “Why’d he do that?” Kaelyn sighed.

  “Honestly, I can’t blame him,” Mayern replied. “Tao probably knows Volk would fold once he’s behind on points, so Volk’s hoping Tao picked the gold coin.”

  The referee looked at Tao. “Will you rebuy it?”

  Tao studied Volk in silence.

  The tavern grew still.

  “I will,” he finally answered.

  Volk exhaled shakily.

  “He rebought,” Zachary muttered. “So it has to be the gold coin. Or Tao’s messing with him and wants Volk to dump everything on a copper.”

  “But that could also be the trick,” Nyra said. “He knows Volk overthinks.”

  Ugh. My head hurts. This game is way too confusing.

  Volk slammed his palm on the table. “I’ll steal again.”

  The crowd collectively gasped.

  “He’s really going for it?” Corven said.

  “Steal for three,” the referee announced as he turned to Tao. “Will you rebuy for four?”

  This time Tao didn’t hesitate. “I will.”

  The tavern erupted.

  “It’s got to be gold,” Malo said.

  “No, that’s what he wants you to think,” Mayern countered. “He’s trying to make Volk self-destruct."

  “Look at Volk,” Zachary whispered. “The guy’s going through it.”

  Volk stared at the cup like he was trying to burn through it. His eyes darted desperately, searching for any tell, any hint, anything at all that might prove Tao was cheating or help him choose correctly.

  “It might be silver,” Nyra reasoned. “If Volk folds and Tao has to keep it, he only drops one point. It’s a safe bet.”

  Volk drew a long breath. “I’ll resteal for five.”

  The entire tavern froze.

  Even Tao’s expression shifted.

  “Are you sure?” the referee asked.

  “I am,” Volk said with a steady look.

  We all exchanged stunned looks.

  “He actually went all in,” Zachary said, amazed.

  “Isn’t that too reckless?” Corven asked.

  “It is,” Mayern murmured. “But maybe he needs exactly that to swing the game.”

  “Unless Tao predicted it,” Nyra replied. “If it’s silver or bronze, Volk just buried himself.”

  “But if it’s gold,” Kaelyn said, “he at least stops Tao from widening the gap.”

  “In that case, he doesn’t win, but he doesn’t lose either. Gold is the best-case scenario for him right now.” Noll muttered.

  The referee handed Volk the cup. “Your purchase.”

  Volk swallowed hard and took it with trembling hands. Sweat dripped down his temples as he flipped it over.

  A flawless, shining copper coin lay underneath.

  The crowd groaned as Volk slammed the table again.

  Tao only smiled.

  “With that four-point loss, Volk no longer has enough points to continue,” the referee declared. “The game is over. Tao is the winner.”

  Volk rose slowly from his seat, shoulders heavy, as the referee collected his remaining coins and poured them into the large pot.

  Volk didn’t say anything as he walked away. His hands hung at his sides, slack and defeated, but his jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack.

  Kaelyn winced. “Oof, that’s rough.”

  “Yikes,” Zachary said with an exhale. “Tao’s scary when he decides he’s all in.”

  “More like terrifying.” Malo added. “He baited Volk at every step.”

  “Not terrifying,” Nyra corrected softly. “Calculated.”

  Tao tapped the table twice with his fingertips. “Good game,” he said, mostly to himself. He looked completely unfazed.

  Mayern groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Man, a copper coin. After all that.”

  “That’s what makes Tao good,” Corven said, shaking his head. “He’s not just reading the game but he’s also reading people. Sure, he’s cheating, but his skill is undeniable.”

  Hey, maybe you should ask Volk now.

  “Ask him what?”

  Whether or not he could make you that weapon.

  “Oh, right.”

  Saying I had to go, I said my goodbyes to the group and slipped through the crowd toward Volk.

  “Now, who is next?” the referee called.

  Silence.

  “No one?” Tao asked with a wide grin. “Come now, surely someone thinks they can win?”

  “You only win because you’re a cheat!” someone suddenly shouted.

  “Then prove it,” Tao replied smoothly as he gestured to the chair opposite to him.

  No one moved.

  Tao laughed. “Your belief in me cheating is nothing more than that, a delusional belief.”

  As for me, I finally spotted Volk slumped at a table, with Elder Liora standing by his side.

  “Hey,” I called.

  “Beric,” Elder Liora greeted warmly.

  Volk looked up. His eyes were dull. “Oh. Hey.”

  “I know this isn’t the best timing,” I said, “but I had a question.”

  “What is it?” he muttered.

  “If you were to make me an Artifact, could you make one that turns into any weapon at will?”

  Elder Liora’s eyes widened. “Any weapon…......at will?”

  Volk exhaled. “Yeah, I could probably do that.”

  Perfect. One problem solved.

  But another remained. The tournament’s loaner weapons were not going to cut it. Just like against Malo, the weapons available were weak, with one wrong swing and they could easily snap to pieces. If I wanted to train and practice properly, to gain enough experience within this tournament, I needed durable weapons.

  “Would it be possible for me to borrow some of your weapons?” I asked.

  Volk actually chuckled. “Sorry, Beric, no can do. Especially after I just lost all that money to Tao.” He slumped further.

  Great. I had no funds to buy weapons, and he had none to spare.

  I turned toward Tao.

  He was still sitting at the table waiting.

  Oh hell no. You are not seriously thinking what I think you’re thinking.

  “I need the money.”

  Yes, you do. But why him? Why challenge the guy who’s never lost at a game you learned five minutes ago?

  “I think I can beat him.”

  Oh, fantastic. You think you can beat him. That fixes everything.

  “Volk,” I said, “how much is in the pot from your game?”

  “A lot. He’s probably sitting on hundreds of bronze coins and a good amount of sil—” Volk froze. His eyes widened. “Wait. Are you—?”

  I moved before he finished.

  But before I reached Tao, Elder Liora grabbed my arm. “Don’t,” she warned softly. “You can’t win against him.”

  I let her speak.

  “You will only lose your precious coins.”

  She had good reason to say all of this.

  But I also have my reasons.

  “People said that about Malo too,” I answered. I gently pulled free. “Trust me, Elder Liora. I’ve got this.”

  I’m confident in my own abilities, not just fighting.

  Elder Liora merely sighed as we looked at each other.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  I then walked away, pushing through the onlookers as I entered the open area.

  Tao’s gaze locked onto me immediately.

  I think I’m a pretty smart guy. And even if it might just be my ego speaking, I feel like I can use my brain to win this.

  Or at the very least, figure out how he’s cheating.

  But, to a certain someone, maybe even doing this is just a sign that I’m really not as smart as I try to make myself appear to be.

  Do you think I got a shot?

  “I want to play.”