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Everyone followed them out of the bath and got dressed. Zelsh pounded on the wall as they passed the female bath. “Hey! Fulkar and Oliver are fighting!”

“W-what?!” Trantor’s voice rang out, not surprising anyone.

“We’ll be right there!” Freele shouted while smacking Trantor’s back to shut him up.

The group only needed to wait a minute or two for the couple to join them. Trantor looked at the two involved and was a bit confused. “I thought they were fighting?”

“We will be. I want to test my abilities and he wants to do the same,” Oli answered as he walked toward the back door.

“Oliver’s only an early-elder!” Trenk blurted, jarring the couple. “But he said he can fight us after focusing on soul arts for the past two years.”

.....

Shivers ran up Freele’s body as she heard those two words, “soul arts”. She vividly remembered how Oli had defeated her and how Oli would’ve claimed victory against Burttin if Jarrit hadn’t stopped them. Unlike Trenk and Yeter, she was thought similarly to Fulkar. She did not doubt that Oli could at least fight them if he had trained his soul arts to such an extreme. She believed in Oli’s abilities even more than Fulkar, to the point that she was certain that Oli could defeat her yet again without much trouble.

As they followed Oli and Fulkar, Trenk and Yeter mumbled between themselves while Trenk helped Freele relax again.

Once in the courtyard, everyone stayed near the wall while the dueling duo took their places in the center, a few krin apart.

“Do you mind if I use a true weapon, or just a plain one?” asked Fulkar, taking out two different swords.

“I don’t mind you using a true weapon. But then I’ll do the same.” A mace appeared in Oli’s hand. “The rules of the qualifiers say we can use any mortal grade weapon, so I’m fine following that rule with this peak-elder mace.”

Nodding, Fulkar sighed and put away his plain, ungraded blade. “This is only high-elder grade, but I guess that makes up for your low cultivation.”

“In that case,” Oli spoke up, storing the mace, “I won’t use a weapon.”

Seeing the confidence in Oli’s gaze and tone, Fulkar clutched the hilt of his sword. “... If that’s so, then I’ll-”

“Fulkar, use that sword. If you don’t, you’ll lose without a fight,” Zelsh stated, making sure Fulkar didn’t switch to the ungraded blade.

“... If you say so, King Zelsh. Oliver is your private pupil, after all...” Fulkar replied and readied his sword despite the tinge of self-disappointment he felt from that remark. Frost ran up Fulkar’s blade as a blizzard came alive around him. Fulkar also adorned a set of ice essence armor, covering all vital parts of his body, with thinner armor covering his joints to not inhibit his mobility.

Oli activated his essence armor. The earthen essence compacted and formed thin plates all over Oli’s body that stacked and slid under each other. There was no bestial form, unlike what those from Forell Territory saw from Oli in the past. But Oli kept his straight face and nodded to his opponent. In his mind, Oli was glad to get a chance to test himself before the qualifier began, eager to see how he stacked up while underleveled. And Oli was excited to test his newest battle art concoction, his personal take on his father’s essence armor.

Zelsh eyed Oli’s unique essence armor with a curious grin. It was he that helped Oli theorize the Infinite Plate Armor. And he was glad to finally see the first draft of the battle art in action against a fair opponent, not in a match between an elder and a king.

Yeter and Trenk looked at the essence armor with hints of envy. Trantor and Freele stared at Oli with grim grins, accepting Oli as team leader for a second time despite learning of his low cultivation. And Fulkar was itching to test himself against that peculiar armor.

“Are you ready, Oliver? Care to attack first?” Fulkar asked.

Smiling, Oli replied, “If I do that and get serious, you won’t get the chance to attack. Unless you have a soul art to protect yourself.”

Heaving a sigh filled with deeper self-disappointment, Fulkar’s blade twitched before he lunged at dove at Oliver. The blizzard surrounding him moved according to Fulkar’s blade and was swung into Oli preemptively.

But the moment the swirling, ice-cold winds landed on Oli they seemed to fall apart. The blizzard didn’t fully disappear but any wind and ice that came in contact with Oli’s essence dissipated and faded out of existence.

Fulkar was floored by the strange phenomenon. But he had no time to be surprised as Oli met the incoming attack with a strike of his own.

Oli added more essence to his armor-covered fist and thrust it forward. He wasn’t aiming for the sword at all. Oli was aiming for Fulkar’s chest, accepting the incoming blade without a second thought.

Crack. CRACK! Thud, thud...

The collision was quick but not painless. Oli stayed where he was, not moving one bit despite the cracks in the essence plates guarding his shoulder.

Fulkar, on the other hand, was thrown back. He rolled and recovered on his feet without issue, but he didn’t need to look down to know that his ice breastplate had been shattered. Blood trickled out of Fulkar’s lip and he slowed his breathing to calm down.

“That was only with a hint of soul power.”

That comment amazed the young cultivators but was no surprise to Zelsh. They all watched as Oli and Fulkar repaired their essence armor and continued to stare at one another.

Finally, Fulkar’s eyes addressed the one thing he was afraid to check. Fulkar looked at his sword and sighed. “... That’s enough for today. I’ve lost.”

Bowing his head, Oli dropped his essence and replied, “Sorry for chipping your sword.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bowing and dispersing his own essence, Fulkar stated, “One goal in coming to Avalanche City is to buy a more suitable sword, so it isn’t a big deal.”