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The call didn’t come from the ref but Oli accepted it nonetheless. He gladly released Melinda and looked to the hosts. He offered a grateful bow as it was finally over. “Thank you, Professor Nixt.”

“Don’t mention it. Everyone would agree that any more fighting would only result in her suffering,” Nixt stated with a casual grin.

“But...” Melinda shook, regaining her footing but not her composure. “But I can’t–”

“Melinda!” All eyes turned to the reserved seating of the Practor Family. They intently watched Hurman stand up and shout, “You fought well and made the family proud! This is not a time to cower, but a time for praise! Great job!”

“Th-thank you, Grandpa...” Melinda was still shaken, forgetting to address Hurman formally in public.

Hurman didn’t care though, considering the circumstances behind the match. “That’s enough. Rest now and we’ll talk later. But know that we’re all proud of you!”

.....

As Melinda humbly bowed to her grandfather and stole another glance at Oli, the announcer took the liberty to speak next. “Amazing! Ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for our contestants and their great match! To think our masked contender was actually the granddaughter of Hurman, the territory’s resident swordmaster, and for her tenacity to be so astounding. Let’s give her a round of applause!”

Clapping erupted from the stands as everyone joined in, but some had started clapping before the announcer’s cue. Hurman, Jonon, and Mertin did so, as did most of the host panel, but one other person stood and clapped in respect to Melinda’s exemplary sword technique.

“Trenk?” Tranton was surprised to see his reclusive son praising the young woman. “Do you know her, perhaps?”

Nodding slightly, Trenk replied succinctly, “I’ve met her before. Before Master Lyle’s incident, she trained with him daily. She was more diligent than the other Practor youth, so it’s easy to remember her.”

“So she’s the first to catch your eye, huh?” Trantor chuckled, “In that case, it seems I need to chat with Hurman about her future...”

Ignoring his father, Trenk smiled softly as the rest of the crowd joined in praising Melinda’s efforts.

A hand was then extended to Melinda, catching her off guard.

“Oliver... I–”

“How about we chat after the next match?” Oli offered. “The competition gets to continue and you have some time to put your thoughts together. And I’m sure others will want to join the conversation as well.”

“Okay...” Nodding, Melinda took Oli’s hand as they descended the stairs.

“What an unexpected conclusion to such a thrilling match! And now it’s time for the final match of the round, the fight between our most surprising dark horse, who took out the sixth seed, and a young man who’s also familiar with upsets and surpassing expectations!”

Burt was already on stage, practically hopping in place with enthusiasm. He watched his opponent climb the stairs with a satisfied grin.

“What’s with that look?” asked Burt.

“Don’t hold back. If I lose, I only want to lose to the best!” laughed the tenth seed.

Giving a thumbs-up, Burt laughed as well, “Consider it done!”

“Are you two ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Always!”

“BEGIN!”

Both contestants showed their tremendous speed, one with wind and the other with lightning. While Burt seemed to be faster, the tenth seed showed his flexibility in order to evade Burt’s first strike.

“Not bad! Let’s go again!”

Burt threw a flurry of chops and punches at his opponent but nothing landed. He watched the tenth seed with a growing smile, inspecting the agile ducks and weaves the man performed to narrowly avoid each strike. But each dodge only made Burt all the more excited.

“Again! Again!”

Picking up more speed, Burt continued to keep firm control of the tempo. All the tenth seed could do was adjust and evade while trying to imagine a means to counter. And Burt’s increasing speed only made things harder on him, forcing him to mentally admit being in over his head.

“Got anything else?” asked Burt. “If not, then I’ll end it here...”

“Then try this!”

As he ducked the next punch, the tenth seed twisted his body to throw a kick at Burt’s neck. Taking advantage of the lightning’s less flexible speed, the tenth seed doused his leg in wind essence to enhance speed and even create a wind blade around his leg.

Whiff!

Blinking, the tenth seed didn’t know what just happened. His leg spun back around to add momentum to his body but the tenth seed made no contact with his foe. Yet Burt was still standing in front of him, albeit with his head now craned backward.

“My turn!”

Following the predicted momentum of the loose kick, Burt’s next chop slashed into the tenth seed’s side. Blood spilled out as Burt continued to his next attack, a shocking punch to the small of his opponent’s back.

The tenth seed was thrown off the stage, tumbling to the ground as a trail of blood was left behind. But no screams left his mouth. He only controlled his breathing and grunted on impacted. Looking back at the platform, the tenth seed nodded respectfully. “I’ve lost... Make sure to win.”

“Will do.” Giving his foe one last thumbs up and a smile, Burt looked to the announcer, waiting for the official call.

“And that’s it! An astounding finish of this round’s final battle! And our dark horse continues on his rampage through each powerful foe!

“But the next round is where the true fighting begins!” Eyeing the remaining contestants greedily, the announcer shouted, “Only four people have managed to make it this far, two top seeds and two underdogs! Such a spectacle has never occurred in our tournament before! And I’ve got a feeling that each of these four contestants have yet to show their true colors, but we’ll soon find out in the semifinal round!”

Freele was already at the stairs waiting for her moment to draw. She was eager for a tough opponent and now was finally the chance to get one.