While the names from group C were being called out, the others in the group had gathered and started to look at each other as they noticed something odd.
Nate looked at his own group, then looked at the group around them again, trying to figure out what was wrong. "Why does our group look different?" He asked.
"It's because there's seven of us," Quinn replied.
Suddenly, Nate's heart started to beat. There was an odd amount of people. This often happened due to the number of participants taking part in the tournament. However, more often than not, a few people would drop out, or even a double knockout in cases, this would eventually even up the numbers.
If they had enough people, they wouldn't even bother calling up the substitute since it would just complicate matters. Right now, in the fighting tournament, there must have been an odd amount of people, and when this happens, it means only one thing.
"Alright." The soldier said, holding something behind his back the others couldn't quite see. "As you can see, group C is filled with seven people rather than six or eight, which means one of you won't be fighting today and will be able to move on to the next round, lucky you."
"Damn it," Nate said, stomping the floor. "Damn it, why this group why, why!" He cried. To the others, this would be a blessing, but to Nate, it's seemed like another obstacle trying to get in his way.
The soldier waited until Nate calmed down until proceeding further. He then revealed what he was hiding behind his back, and it was seven small sticks held in his hand with the bottom part covered up. "One of these sticks' bottom half is dyed Red. Whoever chooses this one shall be free from this round. Let's see.." He said as he scanned the room.
"You." The soldier said, pointing at Quinn. "You're first."
Quinn casually walked up to the front. There was no use trying to figure out which one was the red one, so he just picked the one closest to him. The stick was completely clear when pulling out, and there wasn't a red marking at all.
"Yes!" Nate shouted out loud again.
Now Quinn was starting to realize how much Nate wanted to fight him. However, this wasn't like the others, who tried to fight him because he was weak or to try to show off their own skills. It was because Nate thought he was strong.
Thinking about this made him feel a little warm inside. It was a change and a feeling he had never had before. No one hated his guts for being weak, and no one wanted to bully him.
The other participants were called, and they all pulled out clear sticks until, eventually, only the last two participants were left.
"You, you're up." The soldier said, pointing at Nate.
He was happy about this; it meant his fate was going to be in his hands, not of another's. There were now only two sticks left. If he chose the wrong one, then it just wasn't meant to be.
He looked left, he looked right, his eyes darting backwards and forwards between the two sticks.
"Just pick one already!" the soldier said, getting agitated that time was being wasted.
Closing his eyes and turning his head away, Nate finally picked a stick.
"Well, it looks like you won't be taking part in this round then."
Hearing those words made his heart sink, a lump was felt in his throat.
"What!?" Nate said as he opened his eyes and turned his head, only to see that the soldier was no longer standing in front of him and was standing next to the other student instead. When looking at his stick, he noticed it was completely clear. There was no marking at all.
