"Enough talk, beat each other fucking bloody!" Charlie cheered from his seat, though his voice lit with equal parts enthusiasm and encouragement in lieu of any real venom. This was just a way to keep the crowd's energy high, after all. These four could have afternoon tea in the ring for all Charlie cared, just so long as he could find a way to make it exciting. Luckily, Charlie did not have to wait very long for the assembled fighters to make his job incredibly easy, and for that they had his (mostly) sincere gratitude.
"By all the rites of man-" Charlie shouted in genuine shock "-He's faster than lightning!" Charlie shot his fist into the air, then lurched from his seat when Rickter managed to parry Patrick's staff. He leaned forward over the table to make himself seem more invested, and still clutched the voice amplifier tight in one hand. "I think we're starting to see why they needed a whole hunting party to bring down one big, bad wolf!"
The crowd roared, stomping their feet and bursting into intermittent chants. If they cheered for anyone, they cheered for Rickter. People loved an underdog to begin with, and Charlie's efforts as a hypeman, while certainly unorthodox, was only making Rickter more of the favorite
Charlie kept up with his commentary, having never learned the value of dead air. Every strike, parry, block and dodge was spoken of like the fate of the world hung on the result of each. By all rights it was an amazing fight.
There was just one small problem.
Rickter didn't seem capable of landing a hit to literally save his life, and was looking remarkably better at taking pain than dishing it out. No, no, no. This just wouldn't do! This was meant to be an underdog's tale, not some common gang-up. If people thought they were watching someone get taught a lesson, they might just walk off with money in their pocket. Charlie couldn't have that, and so he decided to bust out ol' reliable.
Lying.
"Look how he's toying with them! He's wearing them down without ever once landing a hit himself. One small mistake, one slip of his concentration, and it's all over!" Charlie had absolutely no clue if that was true. It sure didn't look like they were trying to kill one another, but those weapons didn't look like they were exactly 'set to stun', so to speak. "You can tell it's wearing on them, they're getting sloppy. That's the moment he'll strike, make no mistake!"
And Charlie was right, or at least right enough that it didn't make him look any more a fool than he already had. The stunning display that sent the combatants into the air was the Mesmer's cue, and Charlie jumped up onto the table, punching the air while keeping the amplifier pressed so close to his mouth he looked in danger of eating it.
"Gods as my witness, they are broken in ha-...!" Charlie begun to say, anticipating a collision with the ground that never came. Now why did Rickter have to spoil Charlie's big moment? The fighter had a lot to learn about how to work a crowd.
"I mean, uh, Rickter Maze is your Proving Grounds Champion!"
Afterward, the announcer looked over toward Aoren, but fell right in step with the latest developments as the noble made his way afield. "And his prize is your prize, Proving fans! That's right, it's an unprecedented back-to-back brawl! You'd better get your bets in now, because you won't want to miss the fight of the century. Right here, right now!" Charlie was glad to see some people leaving their seats, though most remained glued to the very edges of theirs.
"Mark my words, loyal fans, you've never seen anything like this before!"