During the last intermission, Oli accepted a divine essence elixir. Since it was offered and wouldn't carry any negative effects for an elder cultivator, Oli saw no reason to refuse. Oli's cut hand was also healed with the wave of a hand.
"Who are you hoping to fight?" Yeter asked Oli while scouring over his competition in the stands.
Shrugging, Oli sighed, "I'll take whoever I can get. At this point, it's pretty much just team leaders and you, Yeter."
"I want that idiot Hiztor!" whinnied Yeter, clacking his hooves against the stone floor. "He thinks he's so high and mighty just because of he was born into a century-old clan."
"And because no one's been able to injure him throughout the qualifier," Oli added.
With a pouting lip, the stallion sharply exhaled out of his nostrils. "So what? Just wait till I get my hooves on him!"
"If you do go against him, surrendering might be the best option–"