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Both fighters were enjoying themselves and chuckling back and forth. They shared heated gazes over and over as their attacks continued to put on a show.

“Enough playtime! Time to fight!” boomed Burt, going in for another attack. Only this time his body was covered in lightning and not wind. With Fulkar already running into him, Burt no longer needed to keep the wind’s agility to collide with his opponent. And that meant he could go all-in on dealing the most destructive attack he could.

But Fulkar was ready and changed his approach as well. Though he didn’t bother directly evading, Fulkar produced a blizzard around himself and his blade. The torrent of ice and snow slashed out to meet the multiple lightning spears thrown at him.

That collision produced the largest explosion yet, one where Fulkar was finally pushed back a few steps.

“You did great and you’re lots of fun, but it’s over now!”

Not taking to Burt’s comments well, Fulkar used ice to strengthen his footing and prepare to counter Burt’s follow-up strikes. At the same time, a second blade appeared in his offhand and gathered another small snowstorm.

.....

“Not bad, but not enough!” cackled Burt, enjoying the challenge his opponent continued to offer.

Rocketing into Fulkar’s counterattack, Burt’s first batch of attacks were bolts of lightning while a slew of wind blades followed closely behind.

“Grounding himself with ice, what a brilliant tactic against lightning!” commented the ref, inciting more praise from the crowd.

But the first drop of blood finally hit the stage, dripping from the battered knuckles of Fulkar’s offhand. Burttin had surprisingly adopted a long-range strategy and was simply pelting his stationary opponent with round after round of lightning lances and wind blades. He was throwing them all directly at Fulkar instead of encircling the swordsman. And the more energy that Fulkar used to repel the attacks and remain grounded, the louder Burt’s laughter got.

“If you just stand there, you’ll run out of steam! Come on!”

But Fulkar kept his proud grin despite the pressure he felt. Both swords suddenly swung out with revolving frost to cut through the incoming attacks more cleanly. At the same time, ice rushed out over the surrounding stage floor. Fulkar’s speed suddenly increased as he glided over the ice with wind propelling him directly at Burt, swords at the ready.

“Bring it on!”

Wind blades first cut through the ice, not letting Fulkar reach Burt so easily and slowing any potential path for retreat. Burt also stayed in place, surprising everyone as the roles appeared to have flipped.

“It’s over...” Jonon sighed, shaking his head.

“Don’t say that just–”

Before Graent could reply to the comment, the two fighters collided once more. A massive spray of lightning lances crashed into the charging swordsman’s blizzard blades. As the essence scattered on impact, a sword flew out of the ring as well. One lightning lance remained, hovering over the fallen swordsman’s weaponless arm.

“I win.”

Letting loose a long breath and feeling the twitches of his left arm, Fulkar nodded. “You’ve bested me this time...”

“It’s over! The winner is Burttin! I can’t believe it!”

Leaping to their feet, the entire crowd was in an uproar. Most of the nobles groaned as they felt the pain of their wounded coin purses. The commoners were pumped to see someone like them blowing past the powerful noble families. And the reserved section of the Libarn Guild and the Practor Family was mostly silent, apart from Graent.

“What?! How did you know that would happen? Reginol, how come you’re not upset right now?!”

Responding with a casual nod and smile, Reginol stated, “Fulkar’s greatest weakness is his offhand. He’s still not used to wielding two swords.”

“But why–”

“It may seem like Fulkar wields one sword as a sign of confidence but that’s the furthest thing from the truth,” explained Jonon. “He doesn’t bring out a second sword when the opponent is strong, Fulkar brings out the second sword when he’s desperate and unable to keep fighting. If that’s not the case, why would he bring it out so late, when Fulkar knew that Burttin could overwhelm him?”

“Then... Reginol, did you not bet on Fulkar?! You would risk it on a no-name?”

“There’s a simple solution to that. Don’t bet.” Catching many by surprise, Reginol mentioned, “If I can’t guarantee a good result, why bother betting and risking everything?”

“But you decided to bet against Oliver instead?” Hurman questioned softly.

“Of course! As the daughter of the Whizek Patriarch with both wind and light essences, how could she not overcome your kid with earth and dark essences?”

“So you admit to ambushing Oliver and the boys?”

“Why would you even accuse me of such a thing? I’ve simply done my research.”

Chuckling to himself, Hurman grinned and squinted at the stage. “Either way, that only makes things better...”

“What are you mumbling about now?” asked Reginol.

“Oh... you’ll see soon enough.”

“If you think you’ll make a killing from the crazy odds against that kid, you’re even dumber than you look, old man,” scoffed Reginol.

But Hurman and those from the Practor Family kept quiet. All of them were curious to see what would happen next, especially those that saw Oli spar with Jonon. Despite the strength Oli showed in his gorilla form, his human self wasn’t enough to get Jonon serious. And facing someone about to reach high-adept with long-range advantage, well-taught battle IQ, and countering essences only added to their stress.

‘Don’t worry. Just watch.’

“Hmm... We’ll see...” Hurman whispered to himself and Vloz.

Responding with a chuckle of his own, Vloz added, ‘Watch and learn why we trust Oli. I’m curious if she’s strong enough to warrant Oli trying that...’

“What?”

‘Just watch. If she’s strong, then we’re in for a show.”