Having been called down by the instructor, I made my way down to the bottom floor of the stadium. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, and I didn't even have Isabella’s presence at my side for comfort, as I'd left her in the stands with Aaliyah.

  Silence blanketed the arena. I wasn’t surprised– the unnamed fighter (and probably the biggest mystery) was finally taking the stage. They were all eager to finally see how strong I actually was. Whether I meant anything, or whether I would just fade into the background, another fool who thought his life was worth something.

  I did not intend to fade into obscurity, merely someone who would face the consequences of his hubris. Through the slitted eye-holes of the mask, I could see the instructor for the last girl whispering to a brown-haired man, before walking off. The man turned to face me, bowing.

  “I will be your instructor for this exam. My name is Mark Caddel, nature-affinity.”

  It would be polite to introduce myself as well, I thought, and so I bowed before speaking. The customs of this land were still unfamiliar to me, and in comparison to before, where I didn't need to be polite (as my only job was to be a strong and silent figurehead), now there were people stronger than me; I needed to learn how to navigate the political landscape before I got myself into unnecessary trouble.

  “My name is Anonymous, as you all already know.” I wasn't just speaking to Mark, but to everyone in the arena. My voice came out slightly deeper than I was used to, but I was forced to push through.

  “You all do not know me, yet I can feel you judging me nonetheless. It does not matter to me– for I am a man of actions, not words. Whether you like me or hate me… it won't matter if you're at my feet in the end.”

  Aaliyah let out a snicker, before clapping, his jolly, boisterous attitude a stark contrast to the silence of the place.

  “Well, then. Give it all you've got, pretty boy. I won't be happy if you disappoint me here, not after all that.”

  The battle began almost instantly after he'd stopped speaking, a long, thick vine bursting through the ground beneath us and shooting towards me. Had I still been standing in the same place, I'd have been impaled in the very same instance. Mark used nature, just like Hua– but not nearly in the same way. He was far more cold and calculated in his attacks.

  Blood pounded in my ears as I was forced to leap from place to place around the battlefield as poisonous spores erupted in the thousands wherever I stood. Getting hit by, or breathing in any of them, would spell the end of this battle. Not to mention that the vines were constantly trying to skewer me like I was a piece of fresh meat, making it ridiculously hard to get close.

  Mark was purposefully trying to keep me at bay, likely knowing that I could use the blades at my side but due to the fact I was a mere 14 year-old I didn't have close to enough stamina to outlast him or put up a good fight provided he kept me away.

  Allowing for a small intake of breath, my lungs burned due to the constant movement, rolling from side to side and feeling my head swim as I made utterly preposterous movements to stop myself from getting hit, despite the fact the vines (which I had by now realised were thorny) still managed to graze me quite a bit.

  Flames billowed from the tip of my blade, engulfing the vines as I moved in some sort of slapdash sword dance, trying my best to burn away the vines as the imminent smell of smoke caused a hacking cough. To tell the truth, I had grown to appreciate the fire.

  It once reminded me of Jasper. Of what he had done, of memories I could never forget, and the bitter taste that followed.

  And it still reminded me of Jasper. Yet I had grown to accept those memories. The bitter taste still remained, and it always would– but I had learned that bitterness wasn't always so bad.

  Pushing off the palm of my hand, I avoided another well-placed attack. Mark stood facing me, completely and utterly calm, whilst I was being forced to play a morbid game of tag. This would never end unless I forced him out of his comfort zone. So after steeling myself to the knowledge that I would have to get hurt, I stopped in my tracks. Stopped running away, and merely turned to face him.

  It was time for the battle to truly begin..

  —

  Instead of trying to avoid the spores, I simply ran straight towards him, Genesis in one hand and Requiem in the other, ripping through vines with murderous intent as I charged towards him. I needed to abruptly knock him off-balance, and keep attacking from there. The spores, I noted, were being released by lycoperdon perlatum– the common puffball. Thanking Xi?o silently for always droning on about different species of plants, I pushed through the clouds of spores.

  The only way to get through without inhaling them (as they were toxic) was to hold my breath. It was an all-or-nothing gamble. He wasn't going to release the spores where he could breathe them in, so if I failed to reach him in time, I'd be the one in trouble.

  A large vine whipped around, knocking the wind out of me as I was slammed into a nearby wall (causing it to crack) and dragged face-first around the circular arena. Shit, I'd spent all my time focusing on him without thinking about that…

  The wind was ejected from my lungs forcefully as I gasped, winded from the blow. Breathing was difficult as my eyes bulged from my head, blood dripping down my nose, yet not visible due to the mask.

  “You're pretty good…” I spoke aloud, grimacing underneath the mask. The instructor was trained, clearly– had it been the lady from before, I would've ended the fight all too easily.

  Vines burst from all angles, and with a simple flick of my wrist, I watched as they burst into little chunks, cut to bits by my blade. Yet every time I did so, they continued to regrow and reform.

  “Is that really all you've got?! So much for all that talk, Anonymous.”

  I let out a hiss, pulling myself to my feet. The next few vines were angled at my legs, and with a few risky manoeuvres, I managed to avoid them.

  Was he truly that good– or had my sword skills gotten worse? I couldn't be sure, but it wasn't the time to think of that, I noted, as all the vines began to… retreat. That was weird. Then it caught my eye.

  Behind him, they were gathering, converging and curling around each other before they formed one, large being. It was a hulking, giant monster of a beast, made of thorny vines and grass and nature. With two eye-holes (which didn't contain eyes) it stared down at me, opening its makeshift mouth and letting out a roar.

  So that's what he had been preparing, standing there. I cursed my inability to see his plans coming earlier, but I was knocked out of my thoughts by a fist crashing into the ground. I had sidestepped out of the way, but where I had previously been standing, a large dent was etched into the ground with cracks spreading from it.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  My blades cut large gashes into its arm, but it still wasn't even close to being enough, the wounds sealing up as quickly they'd appeared. It was, perhaps, just as fast as it was strong, immediately throwing another jab which threw me off balance, crashing into my blades (which I had barely managed to raise to block it).

  Using Chronosphere was out of the question, especially for a fight like this. Therefore, I was limited just to fire and it's divergent, especially if I was intending to keep my status as a penta-elemental hidden.

  Flames burned across my blade, burning a bright white colour. They slowly thinned and became more concentrated, before being released as a burst of electricity.

  “Let's try that again, shall we?”

  The golem swung again, and I sent a burst of electricity through its arm, burning the vines and watching as the arm flopped. Jumping off of the ground, my feet used its arm as a platform, running straight up it. My electrically-enhanced senses provided me with the speed I needed to dodge any vines that attempted to throw me off.

  Reaching the top, I drove Requiem right through the eye socket of the beast, watching as it pierced straight through. It let out an anguished growl (I hadn't thought it could feel pain, up until that point), shaking violently, trying to throw me off.

  I should have known that wouldn't work; it was a golem, I needed to aim for the core, not the vital organs. However, that seemed to do a decent amount of damage, with the golem still continuing to stumble around in pain as I discharged another burst of electricity. This time, it was through its entire body.

  The golem fell to the floor as I wrenched my blade from its head. This would be the end of it. Flames engulfed my blade, which then spread to its body, consuming it whole and devouring it in a heat haze, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ashes and the smell of burnt grass.

  My head twisted to face Mark, the two blades hanging loosely in my hands. Eyes boring holes into his body, I said the only words that came to my mind at that moment:

  “You’re next.”

  —

  Mark's body seemed to freeze up as I approached him, a deer in headlights. He was like prey, staring into the eyes of an apex predator; completely and utterly lost, frozen in fear. My hand merely had to rest on my blade for him to raise his, calling for the end of the fight.

  “This fight will end here…” He said hurriedly, trying to save face– likely knowing I would embarrass him.

  “...Anonymous, B-Tier.” There were some cries of outrage from the stands, but I didn't mind. He gave me a knowing glance– likely because of the fact that considering I was wearing a mask, I was hiding something. Putting me at A-Tier, even if I was at that level of strength, would do nothing but harm to me.

  The next few fights went relatively quickly. C, D, D. With that, the day had ended. Isabella remained in my lap the entire time, occasionally looking at the fights (yet mostly sleeping) and making comments if she felt like it, which was even rarer than her actually watching what was going on.

  ‘They've all been rather boring since you fought…’

  ‘That's to be expected. I wasn't expecting much to begin with, to be honest– though there are a few outliers…. like him. I was hoping to learn more about his abilities from here, but he didn't even participate.’

  Glancing over to Aaliyah, I looked back down at Isabella.

  ‘He's a mystery,’ She replied. ‘I don't know how he got around participating, but there must be a good reason.’

  ‘Aaliyah, just who are you…?’

  After everyone had their turn, Mark made his way back inside. Once he had done so, he continued down the hallway, holding a checklist in hand. Pushing open a door, he let out a tired sigh, slumping onto a chair, brown hair framing his face. Just after he had gotten comfortable, the female instructor quickly burst into the room.

  “Instructor Caddel! You have to explain what's happened today. Two B-Tiers?! And kids, no less! First, you– you allow that kid to get by without a test. Then– then there was Anonymous–”

  Mark merely raised a hand in response to the instructor’s persistence, a sigh escaping his mouth. Flicking through a book, it contained the identities of all the participants that had registered that day. On a double spread lay Aaliyah and Anonymous.

  To start with, he looked at Aaliyah's page, beckoning the instructor over to come and take a closer look.

  “Firstly, Aaliyah. Nothing remarkable about him– or so it seems. An orphaned child of Sumeria, raised by a man he calls ‘Gramps’. He's a water-affinity evoker, capable of using divergent ice. Nothing special, until you look closer. Have you heard the rumours about him, Arianna?”

  “...No, why?”

  “They call him a godchild. A descendant of the divine. Of course, all of these are just rumours– but all rumours have some truth to them, and I'd rather not get on his bad side if it does turn out to be true. And…. besides. You can tell from the soul energy levels he outputs unconsciously that he is, at the very least, B-Tier.”

  “And Anonymous?”

  “You saw the fight. He's a fire-affinity amplifier, capable of using divergent lightning. Wears a mask. We were relatively even, up until the end– but he was holding back. If that had been a real fight, with him trying to kill me… Well, our fight would have been over before it even began.”

  A small gasp escaped her lips. “...Impossible.”

  Mark let out a sigh, closing the book, resting his head on the palm of his hands. He looked as though he had aged, far more weary than he had been at the start of the day.

  “Why else would he wear a mask? He's clearly got something to hide. …Arianna, people have begun to call this generation ‘the miracle generation’. And after seeing those two, I can understand why. But it also makes me terrified.”

  “...Why?”

  Mark rose from his position, to look directly at Arianna. And the look in his eyes was one of unbridled terror.

  “Because the world always has a way of returning to equilibrium, which means that something is going to happen. Something unimaginable, beyond our worst nightmares. And that man-- 'Anonymous'… may just be at the centre of it all.”