Rep and Zalan arrived at the medical tent as the two men that carried Epanor were exiting.

“How’s Epanor? Do you know what happened to him?” Zalan asked.

“How should we know? We are not doctors,” the first man replied.

“Have some respect, Kashir. This is Zandar,” the second said.

“It’s actually…” Zalan sighed, dropping his correction to focus on Epanor. “Was there anything off about him? Epanor, I mean.”

“He was a little off, like the last one Slauson took down. How would you describe it, Brashir?” Kashir asked the other man.

“Shivering and somewhat cold to the touch,” Brashir described.

“He would not respond to any questions. Whether ours or Doctor Quill’s,” Kashir said.

Zalan was disappointed with the answers. It was frustrating to be left in the dark like this and have no idea what they were up against.

“All right,” Zalan pushed past them to go inside.

Rep looked at the two men apologetically.

“Forgive Zalan. He meant to thank you for your work and for your information,” Rep said.

The two men nodded as Rep stepped past them and into the tent. Kashir looked at Brashir in confusion.

“Who is Zalan?” he asked.

Inside the tent, Zalan was surprised to see more than just the original group with the addition of Epanor. Fighters from other bouts had gathered in the tent, each waiting anxiously to be healed by the doctor to go back outside and watch the fights. Rep waved to Liv with some embarrassment who had a jelly over her burned skin.

“Rep,” she acknowledged.

“Liv,” Rep said, nodding to her. “Sorry about the injury.”

Liv shrugged, neither accepting nor rejecting the apology.

“It was a fair match. But I will master redirection and be ready in case there is a next time. Why are you here? You should be studying future opponents.”

“Zalan and I wanted to talk to Epanor or Verum to see what Slauson did to them in their fights. Get a better idea of how to combat his power,” Rep explained.

“Where is Zalan?” Liv asked.

Rep looked at her confused, then turned to see Zalan had disappeared in the few seconds he spoke with Liv. Rep craned his neck all the way around, spinning in place. He spotted Zalan next to Verum, leaning in close.

“Rep! Get over here, I think he’s more conscious!” Zalan waved him over.

Rep looked over to Liv.

“Sorry,” Rep said as he turned away from her.

“Do not be sorry. Unless you do not win. The biggest insult would be to beat me and then not make it to the finals. Journey House deserves better!”

“I suppose. I will try,” Rep said nervously as he walked away.

Zalan leaned even closer to Verum’s mouth.

“I know that, but why?” Zalan asked him.

“What is he saying?” Rep asked.

“All he could get out was ‘froze,’ but he won’t say what Slauson did to make him lose confidence in himself and freeze up,” Zalan said.

“Will not say or can not say?” Rep asked, looking over Verum with sympathy.

“Whatever, I just…” Zalan breathed through his nose in frustration. “Come on, Verum. Was it an Artifact? What did he do? He’s triggering something to stop you, right? Were you poisoned before the fight and fire turns it on or something? Don’t you want Slauson to lose after he humiliated you in front of hundreds of people?”

Verum’s face went sour at Zalan’s words. The loss was still too fresh to him and Zalan had made no effort to sugarcoat in his eagerness. Verum looked like he was still deep in pain from the match. His eyes were slow to keep up with Rep and Zalan and his mouth quivered. Rep put a hand on Zalan’s shoulder.

“Maybe we should leave him to rest,” Rep suggested.

“But he knows what Slauson did, right?” Zalan insisted, turning back to Verum.

Verum struggled to open his mouth. Nothing came out.

“Come on! How do we counter Slauson?” Zalan pleaded.

“Zalan, let the man recover. I will have to beat him without any special information,” Rep said.

“But… He’s…” Zalan grunted loudly, running his hand through his hair and kicking the air in anger.

“Hey! Do not pester my patients!” Doctor Quill snapped, looking up from a bed she was tending.

“Our apologies, Doctor!” Rep called on their behalf.

“We were just leaving,” Zalan said, begrudgingly making his way out of the tent.

Rep quickly caught up with him.

“Zalan, is everything okay?” Rep asked.

“No, Rep! It’s not okay! I can’t get anything done right. I’m so lost,” Zalan kicked the dirt outside.

Rep eyed him closely, reading between the lines.

“I am sorry that you are stuck here,” Rep said.

“I haven’t even seen Hikma since we got here!” Zalan threw his arms up. “If I’m stuck in this realm I thought at least I would have a good time, but I’m feeling terrible! Nothing feels like it’s going right. Slauson gets under my skin even though he doesn’t talk to me. I’m just…”

“You want us to drop out of the tournament?” Rep offered.

“No! That would make me feel worse! I just always hate… feeling like this!” Zalan waved his hand up and down over himself. “I always feel like I’m burning up whenever something doesn’t go exactly my way!”

“I understand. That sounds difficult. How long has this been happening?” Rep asked.

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Zalan paced back and forth a few steps, thinking of an answer.

“Since we first used the Homeseeker,” Zalan replied.

“I see. Is there any way I could help you?” Rep asked.

“Listening to me like this is helping a lot, actually,” Zalan admitted, glad to have someone to vent to. He continued to pace.

“Very well. What do you want us to do now? Do you wish to continue the tournament?” Rep asked.

An excited roar from the crowd sailed over to them. It sounded like another fight just ended.

“Yeah, let’s finish it and talk to Hikma. Maybe whatever Artifact we win from here will be useful to get me out of here,” Zalan said.

“That sounds reasonable,” Rep said, nodding.

“I never even thought to ask. What does the Artifact do anyway? The Returnal Stone?” Zalan asked.

“The Reversal Stone,” Rep corrected. “It can turn back time on a single object by a few minutes. It only has one use.”

“That’s cool,” Zalan said, thinking that it could come in handy. He had a more important thought he wanted to go over. “One more thing would make me feel better. You have to beat Slauson,” Zalan said.

“I will certainly try. I do not intend to join the battle just to lose. Why is it important for me to beat him? You could take him on if I lose,” Rep said.

“Yeah, but I don’t know what I’d do if I faced him in the ring,” Zalan said. “I’d probably snap.”

“Nold would say to use your anger to your advantage. Redirect the energy to your opponents,” Rep ventured.

“Right. What would Rep say to do?”

“I would say that I hope to defeat Slauson so that you do not have to consider what to do in that circumstance,” Rep smiled warmly. Zalan nodded.

“Let’s head back before we’re called for our next matches. The only thing worse than losing in a fight would be to lose in a forfeit. Especially when we didn’t even learn anything by coming out here,” Zalan said.

“We may not have learned much about Slauson, but I am glad you shared your feelings with me,” Rep said as they made their way back.

Once again, Zalan was reminded how much he appreciated having Rep as his friend in this world. He might have lost his mind by now without him. Or his life.

They reentered the stadium, Zalan having simmered down significantly. Rep and Zalan moved quickly, avoiding eye contact with everyone in order not to be hounded on the way back to their seats. As they found Nold, he barely regarded them as they sat down.

“What did we miss?” Zalan asked.

“Good fights,” Nold replied coldly.

“Look, I’m going to watch all the fights from now on. We learned there’s nothing to get out of the medical tents,” Zalan replied.

“Because you did not watch the fights, you may end up in the medical tents yourselves,” Nold warned.

“If I lose that badly, I’ll probably just use the Homeseeker to go back to the guild and sleep off my injuries. I’m not gonna sit around with broken bones or something until we can get a ride back home,” Zalan said confidently.

“I forgot that you had it on hand,” Rep said.

“Yeah, it’s probably how we’re gonna get out of here as soon as we get some answers from Hikma,” Zalan said.

Nold opened his mouth to say something to that, but thought better of it and closed it. They all turned their focus back to the stage.

They watched as the two Elemental Wind wielders in the ring tried to win by Elemental Overwhelm in the same fashion that Rep did. It was almost uncanny how similar the fight was playing out. They both tried to surround the other in a tornado of wind, but they were canceling one another out when the tornados would make contact. In between conjuring tornados, they would blast each other to try and get their opponent off the stage. In the case the blast landed on either fighter, they would redirect wind around them and end up not falling off the arena. It was like watching two tumbleweeds thrash around in a dust devil.

The fight became one of endurance. With each blast, the fighters were buffeted by weaker and weaker air. They were gasping, struggling to remain standing. They swung their arms at one another with force, but would often be unbalanced and miss strikes. The crowd grew embarrassed at the display, hoping that it would end soon. But it dragged on for a few minutes more, every misplaced strike bringing about a cringe from the crowd.

Finally, one of them fell flat, unable to stand. Umdarr jumped at the opportunity to call the match over. The crowd cheered, more out of relief of it being over than actually having enjoyed it. After distributing the prize money, Umdarr looked upon the audience with a gleam in his eye.

“Only one more match before the Quarterfinals!” he announced. The crowd was animated, ready to get to the last few battles of the tournament. They were totally enamored with the battles since entering the Round of 16.

“Next up,” Umdarr began. “The final battle before the Quarterfinals will begin with our Level 3 fighter… the Mountain of Mania… Trentor! And on our other end. At a significant increase of Level 9… The Leader of Goliaths… Callus!”

The two fighters made their way to the arena, the crowd calling for blood. The difference between Level 3 and Level 9 was a chasm. Trentor looked incredibly nervous. Callus had a haughtiness about him, only enhanced by the audience calling for him to end the battle quickly.

“How long do you think Trentor will last?” Zalan asked Nold and Rep.

“Perhaps five minutes,” Rep said hopefully.

“Perhaps five seconds,” Nold said confidently.

“Let the match begin!” Umdarr said.

Trentor raised a wall of water in front of him, about as thin as a sheet of paper. Callus scoffed and slowly began making his way across the stage. Trentor tried to create a firehose of water to trip Callus, but Callus just increased his walking speed. Trentor couldn’t redirect the water in the air and was stuck watching his water pathetically splash on the floor. Callus closed the gap between them. Trentor put all his focus on creating a barrier of water as Callus raised a hand.

With a chop of his hand, Callus slashed through the water wall. The rest of the liquid crashed to the floor. Trentor stepped back then threw two balls of water at Callus’s face. Callus ducked beneath one, but bore the hit of the second. It splashed softly like a water balloon popping on his face. Annoyed, Callus then smacked Trentor across the head. Trentor fell to the ground hard, grasping his face.

“There ends the bout!” Umdarr declared suddenly, jumping up back to the stage.

Callus looked confused. He concluded that Umdarr likely decided to have mercy on Trentor and let him win on first contact. The differences in Strength had to be too much. Callus was certain that Umdarr knew the decision of the battle before it began, but had to put it on to be polite to the Level 3 fighter. He puffed his chest proudly, raising a fist in the air.

“Callus is defeated by disqualification! Trentor wins!”

The crowd went quiet in shock.

“What?” Callus demanded.

“You have been disqualified. Please leave the stage,” Umdarr said.

“On what grounds?” Callus challenged.

“You have struck a contestant in the head with a potentially Elementally-imbued fist. It was considered fatal by our watchful mediator. That is not tolerated in this tournament,” Umdarr said.

“Who says I was imbued? You have no proof,” Callus cracked.

“You have been disqualified. Please leave the stage,” Umdarr said simply.

“What about that other fight? Rexler hit someone in the head and wasn’t disqualified! How do you know he wasn’t imbued?” Callus said.

The crowd went anxious. They largely agreed with Callus about Rexler, but didn’t like the confrontational nature of the exchange. Umdarr hadn’t been unfair so far. Zalan tried to understand what Callus did that made it clear he used an Elemental Power where Rexler didn’t. Maybe Umdarr had an Artifact on hand to keep a close eye on the battles? In the meantime, it looked as though Umdarr was in danger. Callus was right in his face, seething with disappointment and rage.

“Please leave the stage,” Umdarr repeated patiently.

“Not until you start giving me some answers,” Callus grabbed Umdarr by his tunic. The audience gasped. Umdarr looked down at the fist grabbing his tunic and raised an eyebrow.

The stage exploded with air, sending a shockwave in every direction. As the crowd struggled to keep an eye on the events, Callus struggled to maintain his hold on Umdarr. Umdarr punched Callus squarely in the stomach, driving all the air out of him. Then, with a monumental amount of Elemental Air, launched him high above the earth. Callus screamed, flailing in the sky as he began descending toward the outside of the arena. He was going down quickly, followed by the eyes of the entire stadium. He was soon out of sight, pulled by the relentless force of gravity alone. He landed with a loud thud outside, followed by a pained scream.

After a second of listening to Callus’s cries, the whole of the audience looked toward Umdarr standing on stage. They were quiet, waiting to see what he would do next.

“What? I sent him to the medical tent to be examined after losing his fight!” Umdarr said nonchalantly.

The crowd boomed in approval, many giving him a standing ovation. Umdarr held his hands up in modesty, signaling for them to sit down and stop their praise. He helped Trentor to his feet and gave the astounded winner his prize money. The crowd cheered even louder for their tournament organizer. He placed a hand over his heart, thanking them for their gestures of kindness and waited for the noise to die down. Then, he breathed in and addressed them loudly.

“Who is ready for the Quarterfinals?” he exploded. The crowd matched his energy, shrieks and hurrahs filling the stands.

“Let’s get ready for a fantastic series of bouts!” Umdarr said, waving down the next two competitors from the stands.

Zalan stood, looking at his friend and mentor.

“Well. Here I go, I guess,” Zalan said.

“Do not be nervous. This is nothing more than another match. Rexler is good, but you are better,” Nold assured him.

Zalan nodded, making his way to the arena for the first battle of the Quarterfinals.