While the arena was filled with a blend of suspense and disappointment, Oli wasn't paying much attention to the back-to-back forfeits. His mind was focused on the two people being healed by the medics.
Oli understood the basics of essence type, which made it clear how lightning should be disadvantaged against earth. Yet Burt had managed to deal enough damage to overwhelm Naten's strong earth defenses, despite tanking a direct blow to his abdomen in the process. That kept his mind busy until he was suddenly being called to the platform.
"In that case, we'll be moving on to our seventh match of this round, the match-up of a strong contender and a mysterious entrant. Will our reputable twelfth seed manage to hold his own against the mystery seed of the Practor Family? It's time to find out!"
Shaking his thoughts on Burt to the side, Oli got up and neared the stage. Nodding to Hurman in the audience, he sighed and found his opponent already standing on the platform. But he wasn't given a chance to say anything before he was already interrupted.
"You've already beaten the ninth seed, so this better be easy for you!"
Irked, Oli bowed to the host panel. "Lead Assistant Lizbeth, I can assure you that I'll try my best."
"Oh! Does that mean you won't hold back anymore?"
Turning back to his opponent, Oli sighed, "Sorry about that… I didn't sign up for it."
"Don't worry about it, but you'd better not hold back," remarked the man in white and green robes. "You've already bested my cousin, so I may be in a losing fight. But I'll do everything in my power to avenge him and prove our crazy aunt wrong."
"Hey! Don't call me crazy!"
Laughter echoed from the host panel, which subtly gave everyone else permission to laugh as well. With Dean Jarrit not holding back his chuckles, the situation seemed much lighter on the platform with Lizbeth's statement feeling more like a joke.
"Are you two ready?"
"I'm ready…" the young man stated, taking out a halberd.
Oli nodded, forming his first essence hammer. "Ready."
"BEGIN!"
Wind flailed as the halberd charged toward Oli. Immediately, he felt the pressure of the twelfth seed as the man in Whizek robes held nothing back right out the gate. In response, the head of Oli's hammer condensed further, shrinking down as his essence compacted more and more.
The two met head-on as Oli refused to back down and wanted to get everything over with as fast as possible. With the halberd colliding against the condensed hammer head, many were startled by the sight.
"I like him a lot," chuckled Nixt.
"I told you so," Lizbeth stated, already forgetting the comment a moment ago.
Oli's hammer met the halberd without delay, but not as many had expected. Using the pike-like end of the condensed hammer head, Oli hooked the halberd's edge and forced it aside. With an effective parry, Oli led his moving hammer into a follow-up swing with even more power as the halberd carved into the stage floor.
"I give…"
Upon being outclassed, the young man didn't bother fighting any longer. All signs proved him incapable of dealing with Oli, the mysterious combatant that no one fully understood and the young man with the unexpected endors.e.m.e.nt of his aunt, the lead assistant of the territory leader.
The moving hammer crashed down onto the ground beside the Whizek young man, crumbling the stage floor with more force than the audience had expected. It went to prove how logical the forfeit was and kept the crowd from booing the forfeiting loser.
"Amazing! He's done it again, ladies and gentlemen! Oliver will be advancing to the quarterfinals, where all competitors are capable and no easy fights are anywhere to be found!" stated the ref, spurring the crowd.
"And now, it's time for the final match of the round, the match we all want to see!" As Oli and his opponent bowed and left the stage, the announcer wasted no time in rallying the crowd yet again. "After facing off against his younger brother, our number one seed, and coming out victorious, Trantor Forell drew the chance to face off against our second seed as well, his very own fiancee, Freele Whizek! Such a match is never witnessed, a duel of lovers to prove who wears the pants in the relationship! What a sight to see and what a spectacle to behold!"
Begrudgingly, Trantor sighed and climbed up the stairs, hand-in-hand with his fiancee. "You know… We don't have to--"
"Forget that way of thinking! I didn't get a good match last round, don't even think of forfeiting," Freele stated under her breath.
"Fine… I get it…" Trantor caved and played along, bowing to his family in the crowd and then to his future wife across from him. "I'm ready, ref."
"Me too!" Freele stated with a jovial tone.
"BEGIN!"
Both Freele and Trantor retrieved their staffs, one being simple and black while the other was a vibrant green with a white jewel wrapped in tendrils of wood at the top. Both summoned their energies, Trantor being covered in fire and dark essence, Freele being covered in wind and life essence.
Everyone was in awe of the sight. Witnessing such a duel, not only of lovers but of opposing essences like dark versus light, was quite rare in and of itself. There was only one thing that may be telling about who would win the match.
"It seems Freele has yet to become a high-adept, unlike her fiance Trantor. But will that difference be enough to keep her from winning?" questioned the announcer, filling everyone's minds with suspense.
After charging their essence for a few seconds, both contestants smiled before hurling their attacks directly into one another. Now, they let loose.
Wind and life essence blended into a raging torrent as it slammed into the vortex of fire and dark essence. The colliding energies squared off as neither seemed to budge. But suddenly, one whirlpool of energy consumed the other in a startling upset.