Chapter 219 - Uncovering a Cheater

"The match is over!"

A stern voice called out. Before the call was finished, the ref had already jumped into action. As the icy spikes weren't done chasing Fulkar, the ref shattered them all with his fist as he suddenly appeared before Fulkar.

"But I didn't--" 

"The winner is Fulkar Libarn!"

Before Fulkar could calm down about the sudden aid that saved him or the forced end of the match, he and everyone else were left astounded by the startling call of that booming voice. 

"What?! This is my victory!" Rowan shouted, turning toward the hosts. "I--"

"Fulkar is the victor," repeated Professor Bastol, "and you are a cheater."

"HUH?! I--"

"Allow me to examine your staff."

Out of reflex, Rowan tried to hide the staff behind him but the ref had already approached him and swiped it out of Rowan's hands. After a quick toss, the staff was in the professor's hands. 

"There is no rule regarding what sort of weapons or tools you use in battle. But there are rules against you wielding power that isn't your own," stated Professor Bastol, standing up and holding the staff for all to see. "You're a powerful mid-adept on the verge of ascending, but that doesn't mean you're capable of activating a high-adept skill with an incomplete formation."

"I adjusted it to fit my abilities!" argued Rowan, not giving up his complaints. "That staff is well within the requirements of the tournament, so--"

"Really?" 

Smiling and shaking his head, Bastol handed the staff to Nixt.

CRACK!

The Warrior Director easily tore the staff in two without hesitation or question before handing them bask to his colleague.

"That's my--"

"That's the evidence of your crime," interjected Bastol, holding one half in each hand. "Pray tell, Ronald, what's this within your son's staff?"

Rowan's towering confidence instantly shriveled and blew away with uttering of that single question. He turned to face the stands, staring intently at the section filled with deep blue robes, silently praying to a single figure in particular. 

Getting to his feet and showing an emotionless stare, Ronald Dursdul looked to the broken staff. "That is an enchanted gem, peak-adept grade."

"Do you agree that your son has cheated and dishonored this tournament?"

"I agree. He will be punished accordingly and I hope you can forgive my family for the disrespect he's shown you." Ronald humbly bowed for the entire arena to see.

"DAD!"

"SILENCE!" Flipping from emotionless to livid, Ronald glared down at his shaking son. "You dare disrespect Trighton Institute with your disgraceful games?! Not only have you gone against the terms of the tournament, but you've also betrayed my trust as a son!"

"B-but--"

"Now be silent! Apologize and return to your seat within the audience! You don't deserve to be deemed a competitor!"

"... O-okay…" 

With every morsel of confidence shattered in front of the audience, Rowan shivered as he dropped to his knees and fully prostrated before the hosts. "I apologize for disgracing your tournament… Please forgive my family for my own insolence…"

"Now go. And don't expect an offer for any classes," stated Bastol, sitting back down and storing the broken staff.

Rowan did as he was told. His steps got shakier the closer he got to his father and the open seat beside him. Fulkar was going to say something but even he was startled by the intense fear that had overtaken Rowan's very being.

"With our second match decided, it's time for the head-to-head fight of our two most mysterious competitors!" Rolling along, the ref quickly switched gears. He swiped his hand and shattered any remaining ice atop the stage, continuing, "On one side, there's the Practor Family's official entrant, a powerful young man that wields hammers in place of swords. And facing him is a man wielding Practor swordsmanship but with no recognition of the Practor Family. Both are new to the public eye of Trighton City and both have dispatched their previous opponents without going all out. So what will happen now? Who will be the true representative of the Practor Family, whether it's official or not?"

As both entrants stepped onto the platform, Oli instinctively looked to the host panel. But he was surprised to not hear anything from Lizbeth. 

"No cheers this time?" Nixt quietly asked.

"No… This is a match-up that I wish hadn't happened."

"You know who's under the mask right? Is that why you're so quiet now?"

Nodding slightly so the audience wouldn't notice, Lizbeth blinked uncomfortably. "I don't want this match to happen, and neither does Hurman."

"Oh yeah, he left during the intermission…" Nixt remembered. "So he figured it out without looking at paperwork?"

"I only let them in because of their identity. I didn't expect them to make it this far. They've done great but they won't make it past him," stated Lizbeth, leaving the others somewhat amazed. "He's been hiding something and she'll have to overcome more than just his strength and earth essence…"

"She?"

"Just watch… Hopefully, they'll be fine and give up before we have to intervene," corrected Lizbeth, cutting the conversation there.

"What's wrong, Pops?"

"Nothing…" 

Jonon wasn't sure what to think just yet but it was easy to notice when his father was tense. That's when he noticed someone else clutching their fists too tight for comfort. Though that person wore a mask, his body language oozed of apprehension.

"No… Don't tell me--"

"Silence, Jonon!" Hurman called out.

"But there's no way--"

"Silence! They chose this… And I've already warned them that victory is impossible."

Following Jonon's eyes after his sudden shout, Regional was the next person to spot his bodyguard's anxiousness. "Mertin, what's wrong? Have you remembered who that is?"

When Mertin remained silent but didn't deny the question, Regional asked again, "Who is he? Given Jonon's reaction, it seems he's quite close to your family. Speak, Mertin."

"I-it's… my daughter…"

"WHAT?!"

"Melinda!?"

Those from Libarn and the Practor Family alike were left shocked to their core. Cethlin and the Practor youth were speechless but Sisslia was the first to shout, "Father, you have to stop--"

"I can't. It's her fight. And sadly, there's no way that Oliver will be surrendering. She knew that before the round began and she knows that Oliver is beyond her as an opponent."

"Then why didn't you--"

"Because she wouldn't stop saying that she would save her father, mother, and brother by winning the tournament."