Chapter 213 - Burttin Bet's Himself?!

The masked man lashed out once more, cutting directly through the flames with an icy sword strike. He didn't target his foe directly, though, merely cutting in front of him to keep him from darting back into the flames as a momentary retreat.

Left without a means of quickly hiding, the fourteenth seed gave a battle cry and prepared a massive fireball. "Try this!"

But the swordsman cut through it without question, as expected from a swordsman that had carved through the stage of flames. He also leaped forward with his sword ready to cut down the fourteenth seed.

"I-I surrender…"

Stopping just short of the fire mage's upper arm, the masked man stayed his blade and glanced at the ref.

"It's over! Yet another upset, ladies and gentlemen! This is spectacular!"

While the fourteenth seed sighed in defeat and cut off his essence from the dying flames of the stage, he was caught off guard by the announcer's next statement.

"Had our startlingly powerful fourteenth seed not wasted so much essence on failing to control the battlefield, there might have been a chance for an evenly matched, blow-for-blow fight! Yet our masked contender dared to accept the risk and showed better control, proving just how capable they are as someone without a sponsor. And now we'll be seeing him in the quarterfinals, a rare occurrence indeed!"

Offering a bow and no words, the masked man waved to the crowd as he stepped down from the stage. 

The fourteenth seed begrudgingly accepted defeat and glanced up at his peers in the audience. Astonished, he noticed a smile on the faces of many Forell Family members, including his fellow students and even his instructors.

"Give it up for them, ladies and gentlemen! What a great match-up!"

Next was a match most would dub as the least exciting of the round. The fifteenth seed would face off against another no-name, but not against a no-name that caught anyone's attention in the first round. And as expected, the fifteenth seed didn't need too much time to overwhelm the twenty-fifth seed, though it did use up a lot of his essence to do so.

The third match was bound to be good but everyone already had a favorite selected. Since the tenth seed had already bested the seventh seed without expending much essence, not many dared to believe he would lose against the eighth seed either. Another popular belief that turned out to be true.

But now, one of the most anticipated matches of the round was up. And the entire crowd, including the many noble families, was riled up and ready to witness a match that felt could possibly be the greatest upset yet. A no-name entrant facing the sixth seed, and it was the most eye-catching no-name by far, the loud-mouthed and lightning-quick Burttin.

"This may become my favorite match-up so far! I'm so anxious to get this match going, I see no need to announce our competitors, who've already proven themselves capable! Let's get them up here--"

"Woo hoo!" Burttin appeared beside the announcer in a spritz of static electricity, snatching the loud cone from the announcer's hand. "LET'S GOOOOOO!!!"

"YEEAAAAHHH!!"

"Don't get excited just yet. I haven't even gotten serious and you're already celebrating for loss?" mocked the sixth seed, a muscle-bound youth wearing an open robe over flexible pants, those worn almost exclusively by martial artists.

"Who said anything about losing, loser?" laughed Burttin, unfazed by the verbal jab. "Put your money where your mouth is and maybe I'll beat you with an open hand instead of a closed fist to help keep your face so pretty."

"Whoa!" Grabbing the cone for himself, the announcer played off the banter without batting an eye. "Most bets have already been placed but no bookie ever came down for the contestants. Should you want to place a bet, I'm willing to accept them personally."

The crash of metal coins tumbling in a leather pouch sounded out. A coin purse had landed at the announcer's feet as the sixth seed grinned cheekily. "Five hundred gold on my victory. Match it or just forfeit now."

"So much?! You top seeds are loaded! One sec… There! Double or nothing!"

Lighter broke out across the arena as a tatter, rolled up scroll landed at the ref's foot. Hearing such boasting while witnessing such a trivial bet, how could the crowd not want to laugh?

"Wait… This is beyond expectations!" declared the ref, unfurling the scroll and staring back the sixth seed with mad eyes. "This is worth at least double, or maybe triple your bet."

"What?! How could--"

"It's a slave contract!" 

The entire audience immediately ceased their laughter and reevaluated the match about to unfold. Such confidence… It was either the greatest bluff yet or the sign of utmost confidence. Which would it be?

"A… slave contract? Why would you even have that?!" barked the sixth seed, thrown off guard.

"Make it triple! You're too slow, so pay up or forfeit!" jeered Burttin, brandishing a grin that grew more confident by the second.

"... Fine! But you're mine from now on!" Tossing another two sacks of gold, the sixth seed inhaled to refocus himself and reassess the confident yet sponsorless man before him. "You'd better show me your worth… You'll be the most expensive item I've ever purchased."

"Coming from a family heir, I'll take that as a compliment!" 

"With a confident yet c.o.c.ky youth able to upset our expectations manage to overcome the Tordail Family heir? Will the Naten Tordail manage to somehow gain a servant of phenomenal potential? There's no way for us to fully understand or assume what's going through these contestant's minds right now, but we can--"

"I'm gonna beat up this bulky ape!" 

As if replying to the announcer's open-ended, half-finished statement, Burttin shared the simple thought running through his mind. It earned the laughter of the crowd and the silent praise of the announcer, glad to have Burttin's assistance in hyping the fight. 

"There's no need to wait anymore, given the glares and grins of our contestants. BEGIN!"