Rise of Tyrus

Whatever Tyrus was expecting during that whole ordeal, this certainly wasn't it.

A part of him expected they would execute him outright given what those two old men were saying. Now that the emperor and the others had left, leaving him with ten more strangers that were ordered to basically take care of him, he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. Why were they being nice to him, despite their earlier remarks?

"Greetings, young guest," said the man named Wes. His gray hair was swept to the side, his sharp eyes looking down at Tyrus. "I am Wes, head butler of the imperial palace."

"And I am Yuvial, the head maid of the imperial palace," said the woman, gracefully taking a bow. She appeared to be around the same age as Wes, if not younger. "According to His Majesty's orders, our duty is to clean and provide for you during your short stay in the master's palace. If you have any questions or requests, please direct them to either me or Wes. Now, if you'll allow me, I'll guide you to the washroom while a few servants clean the throne room."

And just like that, Tyrus was led out of the room. He followed the two down a hallway, their footsteps echoing as a few servants behind him got to work. Everyone walked at a brisk pace, their faces calm and composed. The maids and butlers were incredibly agile and graceful, their feet making barely a sound against the floor. The entire atmosphere was so quiet, he thought they really were planning something terrible in their heads.

Tyrus was on guard, sneaking glances at every single person surrounding him. With a quick check, Tyrus realized that none of the servants were sorcerers, and neither was the old man or woman that accompanied him. He could probably sprint out the nearest door or window with augmentation and run until he arrived back at the guild, but he decided against it. If he really did attempt to escape, then Emperor Johan would order every guard in the city to chase after him and chuck him to the nearest jail where he'd await execution. The odds were not in his favor.

"I would advise in abolishing any attempts to sneak out," Wes warned. "His Majesty will not be pleased if he discovers you attempted an escape. I can tell by your expression that you're contemplating running. You have an important audience with the emperor tomorrow."

"To decide whether I will get to live or not," Tyrus guessed, clenching a fist.

The servants remained quiet as they continued walking around the palace. To hide his nerves, Tyrus began looking around the place, and he was in awe. He's only seen fragments of the palace, but he knew immediately that it really was a beautiful and well-kept place. Everywhere he looked, paintings were hung on the walls, portraits of people from long ago or scenery, like towns from afar or luscious forests. There was also a lot of cushioned furniture, some with patterns sewn into them. Not a speck of dust coated any of the objects.

They passed by a lot of rooms, which most were closed, so Tyrus couldn't get a glimpse of what was inside. But a few were opened, and he found out they were dining areas, sitting areas, and lounging areas. What shocked him was that they were only on the second floor, and there was much more he probably missed and most likely would never see.

The servants stopped in front of a wide door, and Tyrus watched as Yuvial pulled the handles and gestured for him to enter. Tyrus stepped inside, and his eyes wandered around a spacious washroom much different from the one in Valiedge.

The walls were coated with a deep blue wallpaper that was trimmed with white. There were a few candles on the wall, emitting a soothing, sweet scent as a fancy hanging structure cast light upon an empty hole with tiles on the ground, and surrounding that was a sort of fence that had only one opening inside. There was also a large mirror placed right above a washstand with three weird instruments holding colored rocks on the top. They looked strangely similar to the one Sezor used at the catacombs.

"This is a washroom?" Tyrus mumbled. "Way different from the ones I've used."

Yuvial nodded. "Indeed, it is. Because this is the residence of His Majesty, it's only natural for it to be grander and more comfortable than the ones you've been to. Would you like me to explain how to use the facility, or would you like to explore on your own?"

"I'll look around on my own," Tyrus said quickly.

Yuvial and the others bowed. "If you require our assistance, then please give us a call. Wes and the male servants will be waiting outside while I and the maids prepare your living quarters and dinner. Deposit your clothes into a bucket and Wes will grab it and clean it up. Enjoy your time in the bath."

Without waiting for Tyrus to reply, the servants exited the washroom and closed the doors behind them. Tyrus stood there for a minute, pressing an ear against the door. Sure enough, he could hear faint breathing and footsteps leaving the area. They really were waiting for him outside.

Tyrus sighed and backed away, making his way around the washroom. It really was spectacular to look at, and it was easy on the eyes. Whenever he amasses enough funds from doing enough contracts or selling things, he'd recreate a home similar to the palace. It'd be in his own vision. Then again, taking care of a big place would probably take a lot of time and energy. He'd probably resort to hiring a person or two to clean up the place.

He spotted the bucket Yuvial was talking about near the fence entrance. Next to it were two more, one with rags and another filled with a brush and a bar with a sweet smell to it. Tyrus walked up to the bucket and began removing his sopped garments. He chucked most of them into the bucket except for his enchanted coat.

"...I should keep this one just in case," he mumbled.

There was a chance they'd confiscate his belongings in the future. For why they hadn't done so in the throne room, he didn't know, let alone care. The emperor was a sorcerer, so he must've sensed the mana radiating from the coat and knew Tyrus owned a magical item. Items infused with mana and crafted from special materials are quite special, and Emperor Johan of all people would know that as well, making it quite suspicious he made no mention or attempt to steal it. It'd be best to throw the coat inside the Scourge ring for the time being.

Once fully nude and the enchanted coat was in the ring, Tyrus placed the bucket near the door and knocked. Immediately, the door opened, and an arm reached through the crack and grabbed the bucket. As soon as it was removed, the door closed, and Tyrus made his way over to the washstand. Half his body came to view in the mirror, and Tyrus squinted as he inspected his skin.

Fresh cuts and faint scars were sprinkled across his body; a few scars that were mostly found on his arms alongside the fresh ones. Fiona healed the wounds around his face, yet missed the ones hiding underneath his trousers and tunic.

As for that last part, Tyrus found himself perplexed by the appearance of new wounds despite wearing his enchanted coat, which should have provided protection. However, he soon remembered when he had been struck by a powerful blow to his arm from a swiftly hurled rock. He realized his magical item must have depleted its mana in order to mitigate most of the damage alongside augmentation.

It truly felt like a miracle that he had only ended up with a broken arm instead of a completely crushed limb. The cuts scattered across his body were likely inflicted by the spray of rocks launched by the spirit as it relentlessly attacked him and the others within the catacombs. But now, instead of fighting against a rampaging earth spirit, another problem reared its ugly head in his path.

Tyrus stared at his reflection once more, watching his Beastfolk ears twitch and his tail sway like a rope in the wind. Because of them, a figure he never wished to meet knew he existed. And because of that, he had to attend an interrogation that probably will not go well for him. He'd want nothing more than to jump out the nearest window and run for the hills, but that ship has sailed as soon as Othelia grabbed hold of him.

At times like these, it was best to stay calm and think about the next course of action. Escaping was practically impossible, so he was left with following along with the emperor's orders. It was better to comply and play it safe. He was sure there'd be a chance for him to leave this place alive and without getting thrown into prison, so all he had to do was follow their rules. No need to make the situation worse than it already was.

Tyrus glanced at the washstand below him. There were three structures; in the middle was a long tube that curled toward the end like a hook while two glowing rocks shaped as wheels were propped on top of two smaller ones, the left one being fiery red while the other was ocean blue.

Each of them had mana stored inside of them, and they definitely looked like the ones Sezor used to attack Blue Dawn—elemental stones, he called them. Following that logic, then the blue one must be a stone that summoned water while the other summoned fire. If so, then why was the fire elemental stone necessary?

Without further contemplation, Tyrus opted to engage in a little experimentation. He extended his hand towards the pair of stones and placed his palm on the stone positioned on the right. In a matter of moments, a slender stream of cold water gushed forth from the tube. Retrieving his hand, he observed the water persistently pouring, yet upon touching it once more, it promptly stopped. And using his mana sense, he detected a slight decrease in the quantity of mana contained within the stone.

It was quite a handy device. There was no need to travel to a stream or a body of water with an empty bucket, filling it up, and having to return to a washroom to use it. Instead, one could simply summon a stream of water in a matter of seconds and clean themselves without expending too much effort or time. However, these things must be expensive or difficult to create since this was his first time hearing or seeing it in action. Either that or he wasn't looking at the right places. Maybe Igneal would know all about it since he's a noble and all that.

Turning his head, the area within the fence had the same function as well near the entrance, and Tyrus quickly recognized that he was supposed to bathe in there instead. It was just a big basin a person could step into and bathe comfortably and in style. If nobles lived a lifestyle as grand as this, then it was no wonder they acted the way they do.

He focused his gaze on the fire stone, and he placed his palm on the warm surface. Nothing happened, and he tried it again for the same results to follow. Then he turned on the water again, which was cold, and then touched the fire stone. Immediately, steam began rising as the water coming out from the tube turned hotter, and he quickly shut it off with a satisfied nod.

"So that's how you use the washstand! Whoever thought of this must be really smart. Combining fire and water magic to create a way to easily clean yourself in your preferred choice. I'll have to get a hold of one of these for myself. Or maybe I can try to make one... No, that's impossible. I have no idea how to build this on my own."

Now satisfied with his experiment, Tyrus thought it'd be best to stop wasting time and actually bathe himself. So, before any of the servants interrupted his alone time, Tyrus traveled to the large basin and began preparing.

***

"This will be your living quarters for the night," said Yuvial.

Tyrus stood in awe in the room he and the servants were currently in. The moment he was led inside, the first thing that caught his attention was a lavishly furnished bed placed near the wall to the right filled with cushions and silk blankets, and he wondered how soft it was. Next to it was a tall drawer, which was most likely for storage, and there was a large window nearby that was currently closed and locked. The carpet was smooth and free of any imperfections, and the walls were coated with a white wallpaper with blue patterns. There was also a chandelier dangling above, illuminating the room with its magical lights and a space with firewood.

Aside from that, the place even had its own little area for long chairs and a table that had two plates of food releasing steam, and Tyrus realized he had not eaten a proper meal all day once his stomach growled. He recognized three slabs of meat with a dark brown coating and some weird food that was shaped as a C with a light orange texture to it. Tyrus didn't know what it was, but the smell was enough for his mouth to water.

The other plate was just a pile of greens, but the smell was just as alluring. There were even a couple of slices of bread resting next to the vegetables, and a bottle of water was sitting on the table, a bit of it already gone as it had already been poured into a glass cup. Beside the plates was a piece of cloth with a spoon, fork, and knife.

"With the utmost courtesy of Lethos' finest cooks, a delectable meal has been prepared for you," Yuvial announced, gracefully bowing. "We have taken the liberty of arranging your attire for the evening beside your chair. Your personal garments have also been included. Please take this opportunity to indulge and savor the experience. Dinner will conclude shortly. Should you require any assistance, please do not hesitate to ask. Our presence shall be just outside the door."

The servants bowed once more before retreating from the room. Once the door was closed, Tyrus approached the table and quickly found two boxes resting near the chair alongside his boots. He crouched and opened the first one and found his torn garments snuggled on top of a velvet cushion. Tyrus opened the other box and was greeted by a folded robe that looked like it could fit him.

"Hm, my garments look clean and dry, yet still tattered. I see nothing wrong with it or feel any mana. Doesn't look like they did anything bad to it."

He glanced at the robes, even brushing his hands along it, and was shocked by how smooth and soft it was, as if his fingers were touching a fluffy animal. Just what kind of material did they use to craft this?

"...I should still wear my own garments just in case," he muttered.

The robes looked extremely comfortable to wear, but he was worried that the servants may have tampered with it. His clothes weren't exactly the most luxurious or even comfortable, but he could take the chance that they didn't have any ill intent towards him. What if there were some sort of device or spell placed to eavesdrop and watch his every move? He wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. There was an interrogation tomorrow, after all. They probably thought it'd be best to gather as much information about him as possible in a short amount of time.

After placing the robe back into the box and shutting it, Tyrus slipped his own garments on and sat on the fancy chair, which was firm yet soft. Taking a moment to inspect his food, Tyrus took a deep breath and let his nose savor the alluring scent, as if the hands of a goddess were gently caressing his soul. Though the food looked and smelled good, there were a few things he needed to confirm.

Tyrus picked up a fork and took the utensil, poking the piece of meat. When nothing happened, he prodded it a few more times. He was pleased to find no resistance and checked the other food items. Nothing weird popped out to him, so he inspected the glass of water as well; no odd coloring or smell caught his nose.

Everything seems safe to eat, Tyrus thought to himself. And with that, he began to bite and chew everything that caught his eye. In no time at all, he had already finished his portion. Tyrus had never eaten something so delicious before. The meat was juicy, yet had a bit of a kick toward his tongue, as if someone had pinched his taste buds. And whatever the C shaped food was, it tasted similar to fish, but was far tastier. Everything else was great as well, and the water was refreshing.

As soon as he leaned back into the chair, the doors burst open and in came the servants, rushing in and taking away the plates and cup while wiping away at the table. As soon as they finished, they hurried out of the room, leaving Tyrus with Wes and Yuvial. The head butler reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a silver bell and sat it on the table.

"If you ever need any of us, ring this bell and either I or Yuvial shall answer," Wes stated. "Each servant in the palace has a dull bracelet that glows whatever color corresponds with the bell rung. For example, if His Majesty or any member of the imperial family was to call for us, it'll glow a bright gold. For honored guests, it's white."

Yuvial cleared her throat and pointed at the box. "Were the robes not to your liking? If so, we will prepare new garments for you to sleep in."

"It's fine," Tyrus responded, raising a hand. "I just wanted to sleep in my own clothes."

Wes and Yuvial shared a quick glance, as if speaking to each other without words. Before the two could wrap this conversation up and leave, Tyrus spoke first.

"What's going to happen to me tomorrow exactly?" he said, almost in a whisper. "And why are you treating me this nicely? Wouldn't it be unusual for an enemy to be living this close to an emperor? Let alone being taken care of in his own palace?"

Wes adjusted the seams of his collar and said, "Apologies, but we cannot disclose any information. If you have any inquiries, the emperor has instructed us to tell you to save them for tomorrow. It would be wise to heed our advice and go to sleep to recuperate your strength and mind."

"As for your other questions," Yuvial said, "His Majesty is a strict but benevolent ruler. Though Royal Knight Othelia has forcibly captured you and interrupted an important audience, His Majesty has deemed your arrival worthy of further investigation. You'd be imprisoned in a cell, stripped of your belongings, and would have undergone torture to pry information out of you, yet here you are, receiving special treatment despite your lineage."

"His Majesty deemed you not a threat for the time being and has allowed you to stay for the night," Wes added. "You should feel ecstatic to be receiving such an honor to step foot into the imperial palace."

Tyrus frowned. Sure the food was to die for and the palace was eye catching and comfortable, but he was still felt like a bird trapped inside a cage. The emperor was just biding his time until he figured out what to do with him. But instead of killing him outright or throwing him into a prison cell, the man had the servants treat him with respect. That enough warranted suspicion, and Tyrus knew there was something he was missing. That man was planning something, but what exactly?

"If you have no further questions, then we will take our leave," Yuvial said. "Sleep well, and remember: tomorrow will be a busy day, so expect there to be many unfamiliar faces."

The two bowed and left the room, closing the door behind them and locking it. Tyrus sat there, ruminating about Yuvial's words. Why did she have to add that last part? Couldn't they have just left him in the dark and have him discover it for himself? Other than Emperor Johan, who else would be attending the interrogation?

After releasing a weary sigh, Tyrus stood up from his chair and made his way towards the window. He noticed a latch securing it shut and unlocked it. As soon as the chilly air brushed against his face, Tyrus inhaled deeply. The wind carried a pleasant and crisp sensation, while the rain cascading against the cliff side provided a soothing, yet unsettling ambiance. The outside weather appeared bleak and somber, with the sun obscured by thick clouds, only allowing a hint of its light to touch the surface.

Perched high on a cliff side, the palace commanded a stunning view of the sea. A meandering pathway, adorned with elegant fences and smooth cobblestones, led down to the city below. Catching Tyrus's attention was a grand gated area featuring a magnificent marble fountain at its center. Perched atop a pillar, two crossed swords appeared as if they were driven within the structure, while water gracefully gushed from the base. This spot also served as a miniature garden, with vibrant flowers and neatly trimmed hedges adorning the surrounding fence. It was likely the main entrance to the palace that lay before him.

As he stood there, listening and watching the rain, Tyrus's thoughts drifted toward the others. They must've been shocked that Othelia snatched him away and teleported without a trace. Fiona was probably panicking and worried that something bad had happened to him while Grant and Reo tried to calm her down. Igneal would be annoyed at first but shrug it off and think nothing of it. In fact, there was a high chance he hadn't noticed his friend vanished, given how out of sorts he was.

If Tyrus had the means to communicate with them, he would, but unfortunately there weren't any communication tools lying around. Even if there was one, he did not know how to work one. How much do they go for, anyway? He'd have to make it a priority to purchase one in case stuff like this happens again, as long as it wasn't too expensive. A new sword, garments, and a communication tool were on his to-do list currently.

Without realizing it, Tyrus released a yawn as he stretched his limbs, which groaned with relief.

"I must be sleepier than I thought," he muttered. His gaze swept over toward the bed, and his vision blurred as he trudged toward it. The adventures underground must've been catching up to him. His legs and eyes felt heavier than usual and stifling his yawns were becoming a chore.

Once his entire body sunk into the bed and his head hit the pillow, keeping his eyes open was impossible. All Tyrus could focus on was his drowsiness and how soft and warm the sheets were. It didn't take even five seconds before his vision went black as he dozed off.

***

In his dreams, everything around him was foggy.

Tyrus recalled his fight against the earth spirit, weaving through its attacks and unleashing magic against its rocky exterior. He would be lying if he denied how exhilarating of a fight it was. Defying against all odds and coming out on top was something he would always get a thrill out of and feel accomplished.

The earth spirit proved to be a formidable opponent, truly deserving of self-congratulation. Tyrus managed to partially overcome its magic resistance by utilizing lightning, although it required a substantial amount of mana and concentration. However, it was astonishing to think that a simple Shadow Bolt easily vanquished the spirit, especially considering that it was a recent addition to Tyrus's arsenal. The battle ended so abruptly that Tyrus speculated the relentless onslaught from himself, Fiona, and Igneal have weakened the spirit's defenses. This was the only logical explanation for a low-level spell triumphing so effortlessly.

Whenever he recalled the shadow tendrils enveloping the spirit, a creepy feeling overcame him, as if hundreds of spiders were scuttling across his skin. Or a chilly hand gripping his heart, gingerly caressing it the longer he used the element. Then he recalled the look on Fiona's face, and the color on his face drained. A face that looked uncomfortable and unsure of what it saw. Judging him under a new light that Tyrus couldn't discern exactly.

Tyrus opened his mouth to speak, yet no words came out. He reached out toward her, but she recoiled, eyes widening as the same shadow burst from his palms and swallowed her whole. The shadows expanded, reaching the ground and engulfing everything within its reach, swallowing up the earth spirit, Igneal, and the catacombs itself, casting everything into pitch black.

Tyrus felt his body fell, and he tried to scream as a deep pit formed in his stomach. Everything was silent. Sluggish. Unfocused. Tyrus fell for what felt like years until a light from below flashed, growing stronger the longer he fell. He reached out for it, hoping to escape from whatever nightmare he was experiencing, only to figure out it he had entered a new one.

His eyes flung open, and he took in great gulps of air as he tried to stand, which was a fruitless endeavor. He was forced back down as rattling entered his ears and pain flashed across his wrists. He glared at his hands to see himself attached to a pole stuck inside an elevated platform. His wrists and legs were shackled, bounded by metal with runes etched on the surface.

"W-What is this!?"

"Ah, looks like the young boy is awake," a voice boomed in the distance.

Tyrus recognized it and whipped his head around to see where it was coming from. A piercing light from outside the building blinded him momentarily, and he had to squint in order to make out anything. When his vision cleared, he spotted three seats from across the room settled on a higher level than his own platform. And sitting on the one in the middle was Emperor Johan himself, shuffling through a stack of papers with a blank face. To his left was a beautiful woman with hair the same color as a sunflower, dressed in a fine, regal-looking dress. A circlet adorned her head, accentuating her beauty. To the emperor's right was a man who wore an expression filled with indifference. His black hair was tied back into a ponytail, revealing a scar running across the bridge of his nose that complimented his sharp eyes.

Around Tyrus were rows of seats, each one housing a person who stood straight. To Tyrus right, each person wore a white uniform with Lethos' insignia on their chest. It didn't take a genius to figure out they were royal knights as well by their attire and oppressive atmosphere. Just looking at them glaring at Tyrus had him sweating up a storm. Sir Geroth was the only one among them who looked at him softly.

He averted his eyes and looked to his right and immediately spotted Blue Dawn looking at him with worried expressions, except for Igneal, who just scowled. Around them were a bunch of people he didn't recognize. A few wore garments that looked extremely expensive, while others wore regular tunics and trousers. Tyrus even spotted a few faces he'd seen at the Explorer Guild, but they didn't matter to him. He was just relieved that there were some people he recognized amongst the crowd.

That comfort was washed away when Emperor Johan spoke once more.

"I, Emperor Johan, the Fifth Emperor of Lethos, hereby initiate the proceedings for the evaluation of this black tiger. Today, I shall ascertain whether this Demi-human poses a menace to Lethos and decide their fate, whether to spare or condemn. Without further ado, let us begin."