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Zelsh reached out and slapped his son’s back. “What? You weren’t able to guess from seeing him?”

“Well... I could imagine it but I didn’t think you’d agree to it so quickly...” Donovan looked back at Oli in a new light. “I hope you can live up to his expectations. We’ve never seen a human that can survive his training, so good luck.”

“Thank you, I guess...” Oli bowed his head to the young king but also took Donovan’s words to heart.

Jeminine questioned, “Then you were serious back there?”

“Dead serious.”

“You think Oliver is your best bet at the qualifier?”

.....

“Yup.”

“Better than Tilgron and Kraz?”

“Sadly, yes...” Zelsh took another swig of his wine and bowed to the young elders across the table. “I’m sorry, but that’s how I genuinely feel. That doesn’t mean you can’t work to prove me wrong. But don’t forget about the dark horses either, or you’ll have your spot snatched.”

“I won’t forget. I’ll be sure to keep Oliver at the forefront of my mind.” Tilgron bowed in return, accepting the opinion without fault or hesitation.

Kraz bowed as well, glancing at Oli. “As the only person here that’s fought you, I can understand why my father believes in you. But don’t think it’ll be easy, whether it’s your training or surpassing us, you’ll experience hell either way.”

“A good challenge will always add some spice to life,” Bradok laughed, slapping Oli’s back. “I can’t wait to see him take you all on!”

“Thanks!” Oli accepted the praise with an involuntary bow as his unknowing-grandpa forced his head into the table.

“Then we’ll have Korvik’s and Oliver’s rematch tomorrow?”

Looking to Jeminine, Zelsh shook his head. “The boy will be entering private training first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Come on, old man. You can let him have just one fight... Korvik knows how to control himself and Oli seems capable enough to stay on his feet,” reasoned Jeminine.

“No. Oliver won’t even be fighting Tilgron or Vant for the time being. Until I help the boy merge his techniques, he won’t be fighting anyone.”

“But that’s–”

“That’s how it will go,” stated Zelsh, not letting Jeminine say otherwise and keeping others from adding their thoughts. “After Oli’s developed his updated technique, then you can have Korvik lose to Oliver all you want.”

Rolling her eyes again, Jeminine sipped her wine. “What’s gotten into you lately? You forfeit all of your matches against Brak’s nephew and now you’re being unreasonable. Are you finally becoming senile?”

“If that’s the case, then you’d better try harder to woo my son,” Zelsh refuted with a chuckle. “Then I’ll just gift this old ape a territory and retire in peace.”

“I knew it! I’m just a retirement plan to you?!” Bradok shouted, pausing his drinking to refill.

Shrugging, Zelsh asked, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not as long as you pay for yourself!” Laughing, Bradok clinked his tankard against Zelsh’s. “Too bad you couldn’t convince Dioro in the past. Then you’d get Ania’s cooking and we could both retire!”

“Hey, I can always go looking for them!”

While those two laughed and drank together, Oli sighed inwardly. He hadn’t expected to learn of his parent’s origins, nor did he expect they had much besides being nomads. Learning about his father’s achievements was already mind-boggling and confusing, but this added to the mental fire.

It explained why they were so nomadic in the first place, but that also left Oli more curious about Dioro’s relationship with Lord Zrand.

“What’s on your mind all of a sudden?” Zelsh asked Oli, noticing Oli’s expression of deep thought.

“Uhh... not much. I’ve just been taking in a lot of new information all day, so maybe I’m feeling some mental overload?” Oli reasoned.

“Hmm, interesting... Well, got any questions that only I can answer? Chatting over a drink is always the best and most honest way to get information.”

“Amen to that!” Bradok laughed, joining Zelsh in staring at Oli. “Go on, speak your mind!”

Taking a deep breath and staring at his empty plate, Oli asked, “So... who was that champion gorilla and why was Lord Zrand so upset over the gorilla’s victory?”

“Ahh, so you told him about Dioro? Did you already tell him about what happened to the–”

“Mhmm! And that’s why I like the brat!” Bradok chuckled, slapping Oli harder the more he drank, confirming Bradok’s connection to Rathe all the more.

“I’m also curious.”

“Me too.”

Seeing Kraz and Tilgron smiling at him as well, Zelsh smiled and took another sip. “Alright, but I’ll keep it brief. The gorilla’s name was Dioro, and the guy was an absolute monster. He was a candidate that Shraal brought out fifty years ago and Zrand didn’t let anyone see him in action. The first time we saw him fight was at the finals and he was... something else.”

“How so?” Oli asked, leaning onto the table with great interest.

Zelsh chuckled softly and continued, “He only had earth essence but he had mastered it. Everyone in the finals would qualify as mortal masters but he stood out among them. He was tactful with every move but he could also just overpower his opponents if he felt that was easier. He also dabbled in soul arts, and that only made his competitors feel worse in comparison.”

When Zelsh paused for another sip and to think for a moment, Oli questioned, “But why did Lord Zrand get so upset with Dioro winning.”

“Because to win, he killed Zrand’s son.”

“...” Oli’s mouth was open but he gradually closed it.

Seeing Oli shutting up, Zelsh nodded. “In the semifinal match, it was Dioro versus Zrand’s son. And unlike our exhibition, Zrand was unable to forfeit in Dioro’s name...”

“Then... Dioro just killed him?”

“No, that’s not how it went.” Speaking up, Bradok put down his empty tankard and wiped his lips dry. “That idiot Zrand’s son wouldn’t forfeit no matter how Dioro beat him. He taunted Dioro over and over with desperate arrogance until Dioro was forced to do him in.”