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The weight of the kings’ gazes fell onto two people, both being representatives of the Rot Region. They looked at the large Tundra Tiger first. They also looked to Oli, curious whether this was a match to throw or seek victory.

“Vant, you’re up.”

Despite the confidence in Zelsh’s voice, everyone in the arena was a bit startled by his choice. Everyone watched as the Rot Region’s second seed descended the steps and entered the arena.

“A gambling man, as always!” Lady Inka laughed, turning to the third king of her prefecture. “Shraal, who will you be sending?”

The king gave Zelsh a weird look before sending out his third seed.

But the third seed was elated to enter the ring. It simply jumped down, finding it much easier and quicker than to waste time with the stairs.

.....

Standing at the center of the ring, the two competitors eyed each other. The human in light-weight, martial artist attire bowed his head respectfully. The four-horned bull snarled and dragged a hoof across the dirt floor.

“Are you ready? Then begin.”

Rushing out, the bull charged ahead with impunity. The ground shook as earth essence covered his body. Tiny tremors cracked and loosed the ground, giving the human a shaky footing.

Yet the human man was unfazed. His body rocked along with the tremors as if his movements had blended with the shaking ground beneath his feet. While the bull sped past, Vant side-stepped and narrowly evaded the charge. Many were stunned by the human’s reflexes, as most wouldn’t be able to evade the speedy yet bulky bull. But that’s not all Vant did.

Vant snatched the base of the bull’s tail as it passed him, toppling the bull to the ground. With so much momentum going forward, the bull had no means of countering the sideway’s yank that forced him into the dirt.

It caused little to no damage, but the bull skidded across the ground as his forward momentum came to a grinding halt. Vant used that moment to mount the bull’s side with an elegant leap. A condensed wind blade formed around Vant’s hand, speedily jabbing into the bull’s hip.

“GUUuuhhh...”

The bull snarled but could only look up in humility. His overconfident charge was destroyed along with his arrogant opinion of his human opponent.

“Do you concede?” Vant asked, holding his hand at the ready for another jab.

Letting the pain sink in, the bull nodded begrudgingly. “I concede...”

Vant then helped the bull get onto his three good legs before one of the bull’s fellow representatives arrived to help. He even bowed to the bull before leaving the arena himself.

“Thank you for teaching him mercy, Zelsh.”

“He just got lucky is all.” Laughing and nodding to Shraal, Zelsh added, “At the same realm, it could’ve gone either way. But wind versus earth makes it too anticlimactic.”

“Please, present numbers 7 and 8.” Lady Inka moved the contest along. She watched the third king of the Toxic-shadow Prefecture lifted up the number 7 but no one responded in turn. “Who has the number 8?”

With a smug, arrogant grin, Brak raised his arm but without a tile in hand. “Hey, Zelsh. How about we make this interesting? Would you like to share your numbers beforehand?”

“And why would I do that?” barked Zelsh, scoffing at the man in golden robes.

Shrugging, Brak sighed, “I knew it... you’re a coward after all...”

Before Zelsh or anyone could respond, Brak took out two tiles. “See, I have numbers 8 and 11. But you’re not confident enough to share such things, are you?”

“... What are you trying to propose?”

“Nothing. It’s not as if we can alter our lots. I’m just curious if you actually possess the balls you pride yourself in. So tell me, do you? Even after I showed mine?”

Eyeing the dragon in human form, Zelsh clicked his tongue and glanced at his representatives. Then, Zelsh showed another tile in front of everyone.

“Oh, so there’s some truth to the myth,” Brak teased. “Number 14... close, but no match for us. What about this one? Do you have Number 20?”

Brak proceeded to pull out another tile, showing off the detailed etching of the number 19. His steadfast smirk left a bad taste in the mouths of many. But no one could say that Brak wasn’t confident in himself. That was something even Oli wouldn’t be able to argue.

“You may.”

Zelsh then glanced up and saw Lord Treeda bow her head slightly before the lords’ silencing barrier reappeared. Sighing and snickering at the same time, Zelsh held out the number 21. “Sorry to get your hopes up, but I won’t be able to strip you of that burdensome pride.”

“Well, there’s still one last chance...”

As Brak held up his last tile, Zelsh almost lost his poker face. He paused for a moment. Everyone was a little surprised to see Zelsh not immediately retort the cocky dragon.

Instead, Zelsh took out his final tile and shook his head. “What bad luck you have...”

“A rare moment indeed,” Lady Inka chuckled. “It seems we already know which regions will be partaking in the final match this round.”

“How about we each save our best competitor?” Brak suddenly questioned. “This isn’t an official competition, so why not have some fun? I’m sure the young ones would like the experience of fighting a true rival for once.”

“And how can I trust the slimy, rotten integrity you possess?” joked Zelsh.

“It’s just to spice things up. If you’re not confident, then just say so...”

Again, Zelsh looked to those from his region. He eyed them carefully, browsing slowly between the three remaining contestants. Zelsh’s gaze landed first on the tiger and then on Oli. It lingered for a few moments and ultimately ended on Kraz, who confidently yet humbly nodded to his father.

“Fine... You’ve got a deal.”