Chapter 229 - Unsettled About the Finals

"Remember, this isn't to be mentioned anymore…"

The dean dropped the silencing seal and led the two professors out of the room. As they found the hawk waiting for them behind the locked door, they also let Shadur inside.

Those from the Forell family were still processing the dean's words as Shadur began gathering suture supplies. 

"No wonder that cautious fool agreed to sponsor that kid…" Tranton laughed, looking at his sons with excitement. "I wish you two would've fought him, but now I'm reconsidering that. Sorry son, but she was just unlucky to have an opponent like him and not Fulkar or that no-name."

"Yeah… but he's really got--"

"Yes. You can trust the dean and his analysis," the lead medic in the room interjected, pointing discreetly at Shadur. "As her fiance, you're welcome to remain here but please don't get in anyone's way."

"Then we'll be going. We should go congratulate the finalists…" sighed Tranton, waving to his worried son. 

Trenk nodded as well. "I'm sure she'll be fine, Trantor. Just be patient."

"Right… I know."

But like everyone else, Oli didn't greet or acknowledge the Forelll Patriarch when they came to visit. He was deep in meditation and fully focused on regaining his fully expended essence reserves. Oli felt his body start aching as he strived to refill what he had spent so hurriedly in battle. 

Lucky for Oli and Hurman, most nobles didn't pay Oli's attitude any mind. Having a medic team surrounding him also helped with that. 

However, one person surprised Hurman with their unusual seriousness. "Hurman, can we talk? In private?"

"I suppose…" Hurman followed her to one of the empty rooms below the stands. The moment she locked the door, Hurman coughed, "You know… I'm not consenting to--"

"Oliver should forfeit the final match."

Noticing the silencing formation appearing around them, Hurman replied with the shake of his head, "Lizbeth, I think you can understand what sort of person he is. He would never--"

"I get that, but there are too many factors that prove that he's in over his head."

"Such as?"

Sighing, Lizbeth shrugged as if Hurman was mad. "With his current injuries, he won't be able to avoid losing against an opponent that focuses on speed and power. Oliver's injuries would open up in the first few moments of the fight."

"And?"

"What do you mean? There's no way Oliver will manage to defeat Burt, let alone hit him. He's too fast for Oliver when he's fully healed, but trying it when injured is just stupid."

"And?"

"And what?!"

"If you can't even convince me, then how will you convince Oliver?" asked Hurman.

"But you're his sponsor," stated Lizbeth. "Thanks to his critical injuries, you're allowed to step in and forfeit in his place."

"I won't do that."

"What not?!"

"Why do you call that kid Burt and not Burttin?"

Lizbeth blinked, caught off guard by Hurman's unexpected question. "That's what he prefers. And you know me, just wanting to make friends with everyone."

"You don't sound like his friend right now, nor do you sound like the lead assistant. Right now, you sound like someone who knows more about that kid and his mysterious background. And given your involvement in the tournament, you know he's from, right?"

"I suppose."

"Well, does your concern for Oliver come from your knowledge of his opponent or Oliver's injuries?"

"... Both." Not wanting to lie to Hurman, Lizbeth gave in a little.

"Care to share this intel?"

"I can't. You know tournament policy."

"If you want, I'll stay with you until the finals begin. I won't visit Oliver again and I won't be able to tell him anything, even if I wanted to," reasoned Hurman. "Come on, Liz. I know this side of you too well, unlike most people."

"What are you--"

"You're acting like a protective sister again…"

"..."

"Did I guess right?"

"..."

"I suppose so…" Hurman blinked and sighed, rubbing his forehead as he let his train of thought continue. "Liz, if you trust me, then trust me now. If you'd like, I'll even sit with you on the panel as proof that I won't try and--"

"I know you'll keep your word… But how come you can't just forfeit the match when Oliver clearly can't win with his injuries?" questioned Lizbeth, stepping closer and grabbing Hurman's hand. "How come?"

"Because… I agreed to let Oliver do as he wished."

"What?!"

"That was part of our agreement. I can't interfere with any fights and I can't make any decisions for him. All I did was put my name on the application to make sure he could guarantee entry." Smiling softly, Hurman shrugged back at Lizbeth. "I've seen Oliver when he gets more serious, so I can promise you that Oli still has some tricks left."

"Hurman… you can't be serious?"

"I am. So, will you need me to accompany you on the panel, or will staying till the match suffice?"

"That's not what we're talking about right now!"

"I guess you didn't technically say anything, I just figured it out… So I don't need to stay here--"

"Hurman! I'm serious!" Lizbeth shouted, staring at Hurman with unblinking eyes. "Oliver will be at a higher risk entering the final match. A normal wound may end up being fatal if it deepens those cuts. He's in danger! As the territory's lead assistant, I can't just let one of our future pillars be--"

"Liz, calm down. You'll have to trust me, but I can assure you that Oliver can surprise us both. And there's no need to worry about his future in the territory. Okay?"

"Hurm… You really won't--"

"Nope. I won't interfere or do anything about the match," Hurman immediately answered. "So are we staying in this room, or will we be handling some of your last duties before the final match."

"Hurman!"

"I can't stop Oliver even if I wanted to."

"That--"

"I guess we should go handle whatever else you need to finish…" Hurman sighed, pulling Lizbeth to the door. "Come on. Lead the way, Miss Lead Assistant."