Anak Rising

Anak stepped into the center of the coliseum to the echoing call of the announcer, who's voice was amplified by the enchantments in the arena. He wore a chest-plate of a golden-red metal, called divine copper, a recipe provided in the The Manual of Divine Weaponry. The coliseum's enchantments also projected images with better views and angles onto the pyramid roof. It also made it possible to project the images within to the Armazel Academy roof. This, among other reasons, was why the Pyramid Coliseum was a pyramid in the first place. The image of the grandly accoutred demistar, Anak, filled up the eyes of everyone in attendance.

After the announcer finished crying out his name theatrically, Anak raised his massive sword, which was long as his body and as wide as his thigh, high into the air, showing no signs of strain. The crowd roared in response to his dramatic gesture and show of strength.

From the entryway where Anak came into the arena, Eva watched proudly as her son was acknowledged by the masses. She felt like she was watching his ascension to his fated heroic fate. She applauded excitedly as the crowd called her little hero's name.

"Anak!"

"Anak!"

"Anak!"

Anak finally dropped his arm, letting the long blade dig into the dirt at his feet. He turned to the opposite entrance, "So... who's losing first?" His eyes revealed the utmost confidence. After seeing his mother, he let go of all his nervousness and was calm in the face of the crowd and the coming challengers. His amplified voice carried across the arena, as his defiant image struck a deep impression with the audience.

Eva smiled bitterly at the spectacle. Her son truly knew how to work a crowd and his opponents at the same time. However, following this train of thought she smiled. Wasn't it just his natural charisma and confidence as a hero?

The announcer laughed as well, "Well, it looks like the monster of our story is getting impatient," he bantered. The tournament, because of it's unique format, was being billed under a grand narrative, where Anak was the monster living in the sea. The teams were brave sailors setting out to fight the creature and tame the seas. The walls around the coliseum floor were even casting illusions of waves, making the dirt appear like water to the crowd looking down on it.

"Very well," the announcer called out. "Our first brave sailors set out on the stormy seas, approaching their prey that is the Monster of the Sea," he narrated in a profound tone, drawing the audience into the story. The illusory waves grew turbulent and tall, crashing heavily downwards, creating the impression of an impassible storm. "Here they are, the team of legendary sailors known as... Take it Easy on Us! wait-seriously?" The announcer cast a disparaging glance at the nervous team of four that was quaking in their armor at the thought of facing the unmatched Anak, as the crowd howled with laughter.

The foursome approached the massive waves, warily keeping their gaze on Anak and his giant sword. Suddenly, from their right a large wave crashed down on them, and unlike what one would think of an illusion, they were violently swept aside, slamming into the stadium walls.

"Ooh, and the sea takes them before the monster even could!" The announcer called out happily.

The people in attendance were stunned silent at this turn of events, before cheering raucously. Even the illusions were dangerous. What a great show.

The team, Take it Easy on Us, felt less enthusiastic. Out of the four of them, two could barely walk, one couldn't even stand, and the other was unconscious. They wouldn't be making any waves in this tournament. They were quickly carried out by attendants, who had the poor, injured students propped between them haphazardly in their rush to move onto the next participants.

"Perhaps you should've asked the sea to spare you instead of me." Anak cracked, to the adulation of the crowd.

"The monster stands tall, the sea is on his side. Will our next team of brave sailors even have the chance to contend?" The announcer melodramatically bellowed. "Our next challengers, The Flames of Death!" He nodded in approval. This was a proper name for a team of warriors and enchanters fighting with their honor.

Even Anak had a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, "A good name! Now live up to it!" He raised his sword from the dirt aiming its point at the approaching team of four, illusory waves breaking and roaring upwards in a glorious explosion front of him, making him appear like a god of the sea. Sadly, no one of any experience was here to tell them how truly unoriginal the name was. Now that Anak had so imposingly declared it good, no one else would disagree, nor would they want to.

The person at the head of the new foursome, a thin young man that looked around sixteen years old, wearing an iron skull cap and wielding a short-sword, held out his hand for his teammates to stop. "I'll break up the storm. Rush through the path I make."

The other three nodded, and lowered their posture so they could take off at a moment's notice. Seeing them make their preparations, Anak grinned and kept his sword held out in front of him. It was more than a gesture; this was a basic defensive posture, designed to keep foes at a distance. Performed by Anak, this stance multiplied in danger by a thousand from the immense size of the sword combined with the strength of its wielder.

The skull-cap wearing boy held up his sword, and placed his palm on the center of the blade's flat. A yellow light flashed beneath his palm and the sword flared up into a massive pillar of flame, blinding members of the audience and radiating intense heat.

"An enchanter," Anak's eyes flared with anticipation. Enchanting wasn't his strong suit. Armaros' Enchantment Scripture had no words to study, one could only look at the diagrams and try to gain insight through their shapes and lines. It was too obscure for Anak, who, though bright, was very impatient.

Someone who could successfully learn even just three enchantments could pose a danger to Anak at his current level of prowess.

The enchanter swept his sword across the coliseum, striking the waves with the pillar of flame. Like real waves would in the face of this enchantment, where they were struck they evaporated, opening a path for the other three to follow.

The rest of them warriors, they sprinted forward to directly assault Anak. One large woman with biceps the size of her leaders head leapt forward towards the muscular demistar. She swung her dual axes, their force amplified by the acceleration in her leap, towards the sword arm of Anak, trying to disarm him.

With a simple wave of his broadsword, Anak swept away her axes, sending her flying to the side. He had mercifully used the flat, otherwise she'd be sliced directly in half.

As he did this, the other two stepped towards him at the same time, taking a slow, cautious approach. One, a short, stocky 20 year old in leather, came wielding a dagger and short-sword. The other wielded a shield and mace, and had a helmet covering his face. Neither man's equipment could even remotely compare to Anak's in quality, at best being reinforced iron.

When they swung their weapons at what appeared to be Anak's exposed back, they merely bounded off the armor covering Anak's torso.

Anak turned his head to them with a mocking grin, "Did you really think iron could hope to penetrate divine copper?" He smacked both of them on the head with the flat of his blade in quick succession, knocking both unconscious.

"Really foolish." Anak looked in the direction of the enchanter, the last remaining member. He was panting and pale from the previous enchantment; he had maybe one left in him from Anak's guess."I mean you. Your plan was stupid."

"What?" The enchanter aggrievedly cried out. His plan was almost perfect. There was no one else he could count on to go against the storm, and in a three on one fight, most warriors like Anak would lose.

"Why did you send out the weak ones to fight?" Anak asked, a look of genuine confusion spreading across his face, "You should have used them to draw me out, so you could take me one on one. You have the power you know. Well," Anak looked at the exhausted looking young man before him,"maybe not right at this moment."

The boy stared up at Anak shocked. What did he say? He had the power?

'To do what? Defeat Anak? Nonsense.'

He didn't know why Anak had such confidence in him, but he stared up at this anomalous one year old with a different perspective. "My name is Urmu." He stretched out his hand.

Anak smiled and took it in his own, "Anak."

Then he punched Urmu straight in the nose, knocking him out.