Chapter 18: The Next Step

I returned to find Mama and Adanna already moving in preparation of our morning meal.

Mama had portioned out the yams, cutting them into neat slices on a wooden tray. Beside them sat a small bowl of palm oil mixed with freshly ground pepper.

Another bowl held sliced garden eggs with onions, and a third contained a simple but fragrant vegetable sauce.

"Obinna, come," Mama called without looking up, "Before your food grows cold."

I set the clay pot down in its place and washed my hands quickly at the small water basin near the door. Then I joined them on the mat where the food had been placed.

Onwudiwe sat beside me with a composed posture as always. He didn't rush or hurry. I envied that.

The morning meal was simple but filling. The yams were soft yet firm and carried the earthy taste of the soil they had grown in.

Adanna, despite her earlier grumbling, ate heartily, humming in approval as she scooped a piece of meat into her mouth. "Mama, you've outdone yourself today."

Mama raised a brow, unimpressed. "Do I not always?"

Adanna grinned, unbothered by the retort. "Yes, but today especially."

I smirked, but before I could add to the conversation, the sound of approaching voices reached us.

A moment later, Nnamdi, Ikenna, and Ekene stepped into the compound.

"Ndewo nu," Nnamdi greeted, his deep voice carrying easily through the compound.

"Ndewo," Mama responded, already rising to her feet out of courtesy. Ikenna and Ekene echoed the greeting, and Adanna and I followed suit.

As tradition demanded, Mama gestured toward the food. "You have arrived as we eat. Join us."

It was not a request.

In our culture, it was an obligation to offer food to visitors, especially when they arrived during a meal. But just as tradition dictated, the three young men politely declined.

"Daalu, Mama Nnenna," Ikenna said with a respectful nod. "We ate before leaving our house."

Mama accepted their answer with a small nod before gesturing for them to sit nearby. "Then wait while these ones finish."

They complied, settling onto a bench under the shade of the orange tree. Their conversation carried on lightly, but I did not focus on it.

Instead, I returned to my meal, keeping my pace steady but quick.. My mind was already turning toward the day's tasks, and I wanted to be done quickly.

But just as I was finishing, I noticed something that made me pause.

Onwudiwe was still eating.

Not just eating, but eating with the same calm, deliberate movements as when he had started, completely unfazed by the fact that multiple eyes were now on us.

I slowed slightly, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

The way he dipped a piece of yam into the oil, letting it soak just enough before lifting it to his mouth, chewing with slow movements as if savoring each bite.

It wasn't hurried, nor was it sluggish.

Just…unbothered.

I glanced at Nnamdi and the others.

They weren't staring outright, but there was an unmistakable air of impatience around them, the kind that came from knowing food was almost finished, but not quite.

Onwudiwe, as always, did not care.

I chewed the last of my yam, forcing myself not to appear too rushed. But inwardly, I couldn't help but marvel.

How does he do that?

There was a certain confidence in it, a quiet disregard for unspoken pressure.

And while I had no doubt that if Mama told him to hurry, he would obey, as long as she did not, he would eat at his own pace, as if the entire world could wait.

It was frustrating.

And a little admirable.

I exhaled slowly, deciding that today, I would let him have his moment. But tomorrow? Tomorrow, I would eat slower than him.

Maybe.

If I had the patience.

…

The moment Onwudiwe finally wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, I pushed myself up, ready to move. He had eaten as calmly as ever, ignoring the eyes that had trailed him, but now that he was done, it was time to go.

Ikenna, Ekene and Nnamdi were already waiting.

We didn't waste words. A nod was all that was exchanged before we made our way toward my hut.

Ikenna crossed his arms, his expression already set in mild impatience. "So? What's the plan? We know what you want, but getting the other Akutara clans to listen won't be easy. You know how they are."

"Proud," Nnamdi muttered, leaning back against the wall. "They respect nothing but strength."

I nodded in agreement. I was already aware of that fact, especially since the system specifically asked that I defeat a renowned fighter in a wrestling match.

"Which is why we use that to our advantage. If we want them to listen, we have to prove ourselves. And the best way to do that is through wrestling."

There was silence as I said that and I wasn't surprised at their reaction.

Then Ikenna let out a short, sharp laugh. "You're serious?"

I met his gaze. "Yes."

He scoffed. "Obinna, do you even hear yourself? You? Wrestling?"

I clenched my teeth in annoyance, but before I could respond, he shook his head. "Let's not dance around it—you're not one of the strongest in Akutara. In fact, you're barely even average. You want to challenge them and expect to win?"

"Yes."

His brows pulled together, his disbelief clear. "How? Strength isn't just about words, you know. It's about muscle, endurance, raw power. You might have a sharp mind, but that won't matter when you're pinned to the ground in seconds."

Ekene rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He has a point. The Akutara clans only respect those who can fight. If you lose, we'll look weak. And if we look weak, there will be no alliance."

I let out a slow breath, steadying myself. "I know I'm not the strongest. But raw power isn't everything."

Nnamdi frowned. "Then what is?"

"Technique. Strategy. Adaptability."

Ikenna made a noise of frustration. "You say that, but wrestling is not something you can outthink your way through."

I turned to face him directly. "That's where you're wrong. Wrestling isn't just about strength—it's about balance, leverage, and knowing how to use your opponent's power against them. I may not be the strongest, but I have something they don't."

"And what's that?"

"Knowledge." I gestured with my hands. "I've watched countless styles of fighting. Not just here, but from other places. I know how fighters move, how they react. I can use that."

They wouldn't understand even if I told them. Although I never really partook in a fight back in the 21st century, I have watched a good number of movies and anime that involve fighting.

If it were the me from then, I would never think of this, but this body has been trained since childhood to fight. That's one of the perks of being born in Ndiagbo clan.

Ikenna exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "This is ridiculous. You're gambling on a fight you have no guarantee of winning."

"Every plan has risks. But what's the alternative? Walking into their compounds and begging them to listen? You think they'll hear us out just because we ask nicely? No. We have to prove ourselves. And I intend to do just that."

Ekene looked between us. "If he can actually pull it off, it would send a message. One they couldn't ignore."

Ikenna still looked unconvinced, but he didn't argue further.

Nnamdi, however, leaned forward. "You really think you can win?"

I met his gaze. "I know I can."

With the eyes of insight, coupled with my Intelligence and Wisdom stat, I don't believe I can't win a wrestling match against people who only rely on strength.

If there's one thing the movies and anime of the 21st century had taught me, it's that Strength or Force without Technique is just violence.

Then was a period of silence before he nodded. "Then we make it happen."

Ikenna let out another sigh, but this time, there was a reluctant acceptance in his expression. "Fine. But don't expect me to carry you home when you lose."

I smirked. "Noted."

Onwudiwe, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Then we have our next step. We prepare."

I nodded, feeling something settle in my chest. Was it Determination? Anticipation?

I didn't know, but right now, the path forward was set, and I would walk it, no matter what.