Death Game: Starting as a Trickster, Pretending to Be a God

Fern’s voice rang out, and instantly, voices of agreement echoed inside the tent.

”I think there was something like that!”

”I heard it too.”

”Now that you mention it... that guy who was chatting with the furnace fire earlier, isn’t he gone?!”

A group of people chattered noisily, making the arbitrator frown slightly.

”Someone mentioned Rakshasas to Shuo? And then Shuo was attacked, and simultaneously, someone activated some kind of mind-corrupting witchcraft...”

”And... the guy who mentioned Rakshasas has also disappeared?”

Seeing the arbitrator’s rather concerned expression, Fern couldn’t help but feel a secret thrill in her heart.

”He’s hooked!”

This was precisely the effect Fern wanted, the ”deception” she had woven!

There was no need to actively lie. She only needed to combine originally unrelated events from the scene to mislead the arbitrator into arriving at the answer Fern desired.

Especially with these straightforward, rarely-devious folks from the Blood Kingdom, the conclusion they would draw upon seeing these conditions was almost self-evident.

Sure enough, the arbitrator next spoke the deduction Fern had anticipated.

”So a Rakshasa has actually snuck in—it seems they’ve disguised themselves as a human!”

”That guy who mentioned Rakshasas to the furnace fire is probably that Rakshasa... or perhaps, an accomplice of that Rakshasa.”

Although it was Fern who had guided the other to this conclusion, she deliberately pretended to be astonished and inquired, ”What would be their purpose in doing this...? Since they disguised themselves to sneak in, why not maintain the disguise to the end?”

”The purpose is to create panic and chaos,” the Blood Rakshasa arbitrator said gravely. ”Rakshasas are a race that vanished a thousand years ago, but do not forget, before they disappeared, they were once the masters of this world!”

”By infiltrating the Glory Festival now, it is to loudly announce the return of the Rakshasas—for this, before his formal debut, he likely needs to continuously build momentum until the time is ripe.”

Hearing the arbitrator’s words, Fern nodded slightly.

”So that’s it!”

The other’s analysis was also within Fern’s expectations—after all, she had already asked Moro, and this was exactly the ”motive” he had mentioned.

A masterful deception is often nine parts truth mixed with one part falsehood!

The motive and the events that happened are real, but the final conclusion deviates from the truth.

Just like now, the surviving Players and NPCs around all hold favorable feelings towards her.

Moro, the true Rakshasa, also relied on her to continue concealing his identity.

This way, she could gain a certain degree of attention without placing herself at the very center of the conflict. Most importantly, she maintained good relations with both powerful entities: the ”arbitrator” and ”Moro.”

The essence of a scam lies in deceiving both sides!

Moreover...

She might even be able to obtain more information about Rakshasas from this arbitrator’s mouth.

And just as Fern was thinking this, the arbitrator spoke again.

”And... I’m afraid it’s not just that!”

”Not just that?”

Fern pretended to be very surprised and asked again.

There really was an unexpected gain!

”Yes, if that Rakshasa chose the Glory Festival,” the arbitrator said after pondering, ”I’m afraid there is also the reason of attempting to awaken the ’Ancestral Bloodline’!”

”The Glory Festival has continued for a thousand years. This festival is an ancient Blood Kingdom tradition inherited by the Blood Rakshasas and Barbarians—it already existed when this nation was originally controlled by the Rakshasas.”

”And according to the secret records within our tribe, in the Glory Festival of those days, the Rakshasa who emerged victorious gained not just glory and status. The winner could even, through a certain ritual, make the Rakshasa blood within their body more pure and awaken the ’Ancestral Bloodline’.”

As the Blood Rakshasa spoke seriously, Fern grew even more astonished—this time, it wasn’t an act.

”So ’Moro’ actually had this layer of consideration!”

She had felt that Rakshasa was still hiding something from her earlier.

At this moment, Fern also heard Moro beside her speak again, his tone faint.

”Not bad, that is indeed a very secretive ritual, but what you know is still insufficient... In the most ancient Glory Festival, the participants were not only Rakshasas, but also various other races.”

”Because that ritual not only helped Rakshasas enhance the concentration of bloodline within their bodies, obtaining the strengthening of the Ancestral Bloodline, but could also bestow the blood of Rakshasas upon other races, allowing them to gain power originally belonging to the Rakshasas.”

”This is also the reason your Blood Rakshasa clan claims kinship with the Rakshasas,” Moro said indifferently. ”Rather than being relatives, it’s more accurate to say that the progenitor of your Blood Rakshasa Tribe was a rare member of another race who achieved victory in the Glory Festival of that time!”

”Rather than kinship, it’s more like being granted this honor!”

”I just don’t know if your current Blood Rakshasa Tribe still has this honor passed down and recorded.”

Moro’s tone was calm, carrying a trace of pride, making the arbitrator somewhat doubtful and unsettled.

”What nonsense are you spouting... You’re clearly just a human. How could you possibly know so many secrets about the Glory Festival?”

He seemed to be hearing Moro’s words for the first time as well, and subconsciously expressed skepticism towards those almost ”heretical” contents.

But this skepticism precisely revealed that this arbitrator was also shaken.

Fern keenly detected this point.

Not just Fern;moments later, others also caught a whiff of something different from the arbitrator’s intense reaction.

And sure enough, not long after, the arbitrator, after some thought, spoke up.

”Even if it’s fabricated, with such a detailed, deceptively realistic level... you cannot be human. Unless... you are not human at all.”

”Moro, Moro. This name sounds more like one a member of our Blood Rakshasa Tribe would give, rather than a human name.”

”But you are not a Blood Rakshasa...”

Thinking this, the arbitrator tightened his grip on the bone staff in his hand.

”There is indeed a competitor who shouldn’t exist, excessively powerful, who has infiltrated this festival. During my patrol, I saw corpses with extremely abnormal deaths, repeatedly torn apart by someone, which indeed matches the rumored posture of a Rakshasa.”

”So, you are a Rakshasa... and you can only be a Rakshasa!”

The arbitrator looked at Moro, his stance becoming extremely vigilant.

Moro stood up: ”What an interesting accusation. If I were a Rakshasa, would I stand here and not leave?”

”Although we haven’t seen them for a thousand years, I know a bit about Rakshasas,” the Blood Rakshasa holding the bone staff had already accepted all this and said calmly. ”Blood Rakshasas are descended from Rakshasas. Whether due to kinship or bloodline won through victory... spiritually, we share common ground with the Rakshasa race.”

”Blood Rakshasas are the proudest race in the Black Marsh world today—as the millennium-long overlords. I imagine Rakshasas are only even more so than us.”

”So... if you are not a Rakshasa, you only need to tell me.”

Could it really be that simple?

Indeed, the Black Marsh world is full of easily fooled fools!

Hearing the arbitrator’s words, Fern couldn’t help but inwardly complain again.

But...

Precisely because of this, Fern was already mentally prepared.

Because Moro was also a fool from the Black Marsh world!

He hadn’t even changed his name.

And just as Fern had expected, Moro merely looked at her, a flicker of apology passing through his eyes. After giving a slight nod of respect, Moro turned back to that haughty arbitrator.

”Come then, Blood Rakshasa—I also want to test what level the descendants of the warriors who once obtained a trace of bloodline power can achieve today?”