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538 Provincial Exhibition Begins!

The crowd calmed down while playing into the ceremony.

Jeerda motioned toward the candidates in the first row. “The first three of our four wildcards, this year, shall be the leaders of the fallen teams!”

Going ballistic, the crowd was prouder than ever to see someone from the Permafrost Team stand tall and bow to King Jeerda. Hiztor and the losing team leader did the same but to much less applause.

“As for our fourth and final wildcard of the provincial qualifier, some of you may already know who they are. They were a last-minute entrant in our independent cultivator contest yet they managed to clutch victory in the end,” Jeerda announced, riling up the crowd for what was usually one of their favorite combatants. “Our independent wildcard, hailing from Iron Territory of Rhyner Region, the Long-tailed Lynx, Karos!”

The crowd only got louder as a feline figure entered the arena from one of four sets of doors built into the arena walls. With a proud but soft smile, Karos darted into the arena for everyone to see, letting the applause strengthen his resolve.

“What?!” Hiztor nearly shouted but caught himself halfway through speaking. In front of so many people, and during the opening ceremony no less, it was impossible for him to speak out and ruin the moment.

Oli sighed and smiled, “I see. That explains it…”

“WOO!! GO, KAROS!!” Yeter cheered at the top of his lungs. He was ecstatic to see an old friend fight his way back into the competition.

“Candidates,” Jeerda’s voice calmly yet profoundly reverberated through the colosseum. It silenced everything. “Step forward. It’s time to draw lots for the first round of combat!”

.....

The team leaders all vaulted the wall with their teams in tow. They gathered in single-file lines. Karos stood at the back of the wildcard line, completely ignoring every dirty look Hiztor threw his way.

“Candidates, congratulations on making it this far. Each and every one of your can be proud of what you’ve accomplished, and you’ve all brought honor to my Permafrost Province,” Jeerda stated with the slightest of head bows. “Please, continue to press on. Continue to represent your masters and prove that their efforts in raising you were not in vain.

“Now, I’ll have Kelna, my lady-in-waiting come forward. She’ll approach each of you, and you’ll each draw a single stone from her pot.”

One of the arena doors opened for a beautiful woman wearing what could best be described as an elegant, white and frost-blue battle dress.

All the while, Jeerda continued, “The stones don’t say their number, not yet. When a round of combat begins, we’ll activate the formation on the first two stones, revealing who our first combatants will be. This pattern will continue until all stones have been activated and all fights have been had.

“Then, we’ll have a fifteen-minute intermission between each round. Permafrost Province will offer you all resources necessary for the winners of the first round to be back at full strength. Another drawing will happen for those remaining twelve, thus resulting in battles until we have the final six candidates selected for the last round of the exhibition.

“The rules are as such,” Jeerda stated with a poker face. “Killing is allowed, just as it is throughout all levels of the Mortal Championship. And any who dares to seek vengeance for a fallen candidate must wait until three moons after the conclusion of the entire Mortal Championship before doing so. Act out any sooner and you’ll face the wrath of the quadrant.

“Also, candidates are allowed to forfeit. Should they surrender, the match will end instantly and no further attacks may be thrown. You’ll dismiss all lingering essence immediately, or you’ll be disqualified on the spot and face other repercussions, regardless of whether you won or lost.

“Finally, no divine tools, weapons, or items are allowed. Should we sense any divine energy on your person at all, the guards on duty will apprehend you and hold you for questioning to determine your punishment.” Sighing after reciting the final rule, Jeerda stared down at the candidates while unleashing a hint of her high-king might, “... Do I make myself clear?”

“YES, KING JEERDA!” all candidates replied in unison.

“Good. Now draw your lots and return to your seats.”

Each candidate drew a stone from the pot as the deceptively powerful woman walked by. Right away, Oli could tell that she wasn’t Jeerda’s lady-in-waiting for nothing. Comparing the feeling of Kelna’s presence to that of Zelsh’s, Oli would bet she could at least put up a fight against the renowned King Zelsh.

When Oli looked at his stone, he found nothing unusual about it. Apart from being smooth without any rough edges, it just felt and looked like a regular rock picked up from a riverbed.

Oli and the other leaders took their teams back to their seats. Hiztor tried to get close to Karos and say something but the lynx just darted away in a flash of lightning. He had been given a seat of his own between the Rot and Sardin Regions with his own guard.

“With that finished, let’s not hold off the main event any longer!”

As Jeerda gave the signal, one of her staff members on a pushed-back balcony to her side wheeled out a long board. The tourney tree was inscribed on it but no names had been added. That staff member walked up to the first pairing on the tourney tree and the two lines suddenly lit up.

Jeerda shouted, “Hold your stone high as it lights up!”

Following the ceremony, two candidates stood up with their stones raised overhead. One candidate from the Sardin Team and one from the Feather Team, neither being their team leaders.

“Enter the area. When prompted, state your name and wait for my call to begin the battle,” Kelna took control of the colosseum as she become the qualifier’s referee.

The two candidates did as they were told. They shared names and a quick bow before Kelna started the match.

Before Oli could get a good feel for who might win or lose, the match was already over. In a matter of seconds, the Feather Region candidate was overwhelmed to the point of surrender. While the crowd booed, Oli realized that the rivalry between Permafrost and Sardin was no joke but well-deserved based on Sardin’s first showing. And considering that four of Sardin’s five candidates were beasts, including the team leader, that only made furthered Oli’s interest.

“Next!”

Whenever Kelna called for it, the staff member manning the board activated the next two stones.

This time, Oli and his team noticed who it was right away. As Trenk held up his stone, they all searched for his opponent. And they quickly saw Hiztor greedily grinning back at them.

“Enter!” Kelna shouted, not wasting any time.

Hiztor boldly laughed while leaping into the arena. Trenk didn’t back down, but he did hear Oli’s voice in his head, ‘Surrender if you can’t win. If it comes to that point, just give up and fight another day.’

Trenk nodded back but there was a momentary flash of disappointment in his eyes. He understood that Hiztor was strong, strong enough to be made a team captain. And Trenk didn’t forget that Hiztor was a defensive specialist either. But it still hurt to hear that he was expected to lose. No candidate wanted to hear that from their team captain, especially when this was a chance to make up for Trenk’s early exit during the survival round.

Kelna watched as the thirty-something Hiztor arrogantly stared at the nineteen-year-old Trenk. “State your names and origins.”

“HIZTOR GALDO! Son of Heuzon Galdo, leader of the century-old Galdo Territory! Representing Rhyner Region,” Hiztor didn’t hold back at all during his self-introduction, making sure everyone knew his name and who he was truly representing beyond his region.

Trenk took a deep breath to help his mind quickly settle. “Trenk Forell! Son of Tranton Forell of the Forell Territory in Rot Region!”

“Bow!”

They both did as she ordered. But Hiztor never fully lowered himself, making sure he could keep grimly staring at the man he deemed as prey.

“... FIGHT!”

Stretching a toothy grin across his face, Hiztor rushed into action with gauntlets brimming with earth essence. Earthen armor formed a full-plate suit of armor, turning Hiztor into a barbaric brawler with his barb-knuckled gauntlets.

Trenk also wasted no time. He covered himself in flames while creating shadow orb after shadow orb to surround him. His sword was teaming with both fire and dark essence.

All the candidates were slightly impressed by Trenk’s display. Being the first time any candidates apart from his teammates were able to witness him in action, Trenk was determined to give it his all. Trenk knew he couldn’t defeat Oli. But if he could bring down an opposing team leader, that would not only bring his family honor and influence. And it would give him a shot at joining his older brother in Nightscape City for the prefecture qualifier.