540 On to the Next Round
Before the Rot Team could speak up, the next two stones were activated. And yet again it was someone from their team.
Fulkar rose to his feet with the stone held high. But while he was looking toward the arena, he quickly said, “Great fight, Trenk! I look forward to sparring with you even more after all this.”
As Fulkar leaped out of the stands and into the arena, Trantor sat beside his younger brother with a beaming grin. “That was an amazing battle.”
Life essence was being poured into Trenk’s body via the medic. And since the medic was a perennial using divine essence, Trenk found the treatment to be far more effective than he was expecting. His body was healing at a visible rate and quickly gave him the strength to speak. “... Thanks, Big Bro. I’m glad I could do the Forell name proud till the end.”
Oli wasn’t worried for Trenk from the moment he managed to surrender. He already knew how miraculously divine essence and divine items worked on mortal cultivators. So long as he was alive and not crippled, then Trenk was certain to recover.
So Oli quickly thanked Trenk for all his help, congratulated him on a good fight, and returned his focus to the fight at hand.
Fulkar introduced himself with a bow, “I’m Fulkar Libarn, hailing from Forell Territory in Rot Region.”
In front of him was the one human candidate among the Sardin team, who politely bowed as well before stating his name.
To Fulkar’s disappointment, the fight didn’t last much longer than the first fight between the Sardin and Feather candidates. Within thirty seconds, both of Fulkar’s swords had been disarmed, leaving him lying on the ground with the human man from Sardon bowing to him.
.....
“You fought better than I was expecting and had to get serious. You’ve earned my respect,” stated the man with a monk-like demeanor.
Sighing, Fulkar accepted the man’s help to get up. “Thanks… This has taught me a lot. And I can see Sardin deserves its reputation.”
The two combatants shook hands once more before parting ways. Many people booed but there was no real hate burning in the crowd’s eyes. They just loved to see Sardin lose after how often the Sardin Team had beaten their home team throughout the years. But it was also widely known that High-king Jeerda’s own pupils weren’t allowed to participate and would go straight to the prefecture qualifier. That’s why the rivalry between the Sardin and Permafrost Regions was actually quite healthy. The two regions had developed a form of sportsmanship and that spread over time into Sardin’s treatment for the Rot Team as well, so long as the respect was mutual.
When Fulkar got back, he was amazed to see Trenk sitting up in his seat again without any help. Trenk’s body was back to full health, but his essence was exhausted and his mind was tired.
Fulkar took his seat and was surprised when the medic stayed by the team to start healing Fulkar as well. Even after Fulkar was fully recovered, the medic remained. The team quickly realized that the medic would likely stay there until all of them had been eliminated and healed. Since it was happening to all the teams, it quickly became the norm for the silent medic to stand beside the security staff while waiting for the next member of the Rot Team to enter the arena.
After a few fights, Yeter was the next teammate to fight. He whinnied and danced his way to the center of the arena. With every step, Yeter relished the attention of the crowd and riled up everyone.
Yet again, the crowd was excited to find such a character among the Rot Team, as the crowd had started to expect every year.
What got the crowd even more riled up was how the Thick-skinned Stallion won. His attacks were the definition of straightforward and easy to read. Yet Yeter’s opponent had no way to counter the stallion’s strangely sharp essence armor. It would only result in hurting himself more than hurting Yeter.
So while the stallion was cheering for himself and stomping around like a mad horse, Yeter’s opponent was unable to find a viable strategy.
Once Yeter landed a clean double kick to the candidate’s chest, the opponent gave up, clutching his broken sternum.
The crowd went wild for the bucking bronco, who continued to celebrate so long that Kelna had to promptly kick Yeter toward his team’s seats before the stallion trotted back and leaped into the stands.
“That was fun!” Yeter cackled.
“Well, I’m glad one of us made it through…” Trenk sighed with a dejected smile.
“Hey, I’ve yet to try,” Freele pouted with a half-confident gaze. After seeing how badly Fulkar and Trenk had lost, she was beginning to doubt herself.
But no one was too worried. After all, they all knew that only three people would be able to remain standing in the end. And she had already spotted at least three people she was confident would beat her.
Yet the fights continued and the Rot Team wasn’t getting called on. It was strange. But things were made clear as they reached the final matches of the first round. For the first time that year and in the third-to-last fight, two stones lit up from the same team. Oli and Freele were left standing and awkwardly smiling at each other.
But Freele kept quiet and rushed into the arena.
Thinking back to his first fight against Freele, Oli sighed. He wasn’t surprised by the determination in her eyes or the confidence in her strides. Oli was already certain he was in for a battle.
In the stands, Trenk and Fulkar both sighed.
Yeter giddily watched his teammates square up. “Oh, do you think she’ll fight–”
“Yes.”
Trenk and Fulkar both replied in unison with the exact same tone. It sounded like a perfect echo. And they both felt down about the match-up. It was now guaranteed that all candidates from Forell Territory would be cut during the first round.
Once at the center of the arena, Kelna paused for a moment to evaluate the rival candidates from the same region. She was elated to see no ire or envy in their stares, only determination and resolve. “State your names and origins.”
“I’m Freele Forell, standing for Forell Territory in Rot Region!” Freele declared with all her might, never blinking or looking away from Oli.
Smiling slyly, Oli stated, “I’m Oliver, representing Rot Territory and Rot Region.”
That announcement left a lot of spectators surprised. It was rare for King Zelsh to bring someone from his local territory. Most of the time, his personal pupils would already be headed to the prefecture qualifier. So this was an unexpected yet pleasant surprise for the crowd.
And it was also a shock to the other candidates. They already knew Oli was the Rot Team captain. But being from King Zelsh’s home was a big tell about how strong Oli might be.
From the intro alone, the other teams labeled Oli as a threat to their success in the exhibition, so everyone eagerly watched in anticipation.
“Are you two ready?” Kelna asked. “... FIGHT!”
“I surrender.”
Kelna’s shout and Freele’s statement had almost been said at precisely the same moment. Before Oli could fully equip his essence, the fight had already been declared.
“The winner is Oliver of Rot Territory, Rot Region!”
Everyone cheered but there was a pain of missed expectations in everyone’s hearts. But the crowd and any less intelligent candidates were shut up by Kelna’s following comment that echoed through the colosseum without being overbearing. “They’re from the same team. They’ve fought together and against each other already. So why waste time and energy now?”
At the same time, Oli and Freele were walking back to their seats.
“Freele, you… you actually forfeited?!” Trenk shouted in a stupor.
Pouting, Freele scoffed, “Of course I did! There’s no way I can get Oliver to fight all out without putting my life at risk. So I tactfully declined to fight.”
Oli said nothing. To him, he was fine either way. At least now he wouldn’t need to rely on external healing or resources to recover before the next round.
The last two fights went by quickly. Soon, the arena was cleared and Kelna announced, “It’s time for our first intermission! Candidates, you have fifteen minutes to recover before we draw stones once more. If you need the aid of resources or items to recover, whether from physical damage or essence fatigue, ask your medic. Enjoy your break!”
All the teams quickly through up silent formations while they recovered and discussed the odds of the next round. Some focused on devising possible strategies. Others just talked and kept up morale.
One team was speaking at all. The Rhyner Team had two silent formations active, one around Hiztor and one around the rest of the team. They had all gotten tired of their would-be leader and were eager for the provincial qualifier to end.