Rise of Tyrus

Jericho approached the other candidates, standing tall and composed. Throughout his leisurely stroll, his eyes, filled with a smile, thoroughly observed every hidden spot and detail of his prey’s face. He even licked his lips at the sight of their injuries. With his hand ready and just inches from his blade, he came to a halt in front of them.

“Have the little lambs decided yet?” he said, his voice filled with a hint of joy. When his eyes scanned the hostages in their entirety and no response came, the last drop of patience shattered and his body moved on its own. The blade, an extension of his murderous intent, drew out of his sheath. Jericho aimed a dagger at the man’s neck and stopped just a finger nail away.

"There's something thrilling about stubborn prey; It makes killing all the more fun,” he said with a bitter chuckle. “Last chance—What are you two doing here and how many of you are there?”

The shackled man rolled his eyes. “By all means. Just know that before the tip of your toothpick pierces my skin, you’ll lose your hand first, and then your head. If you're in the mood to die, go for it.”

“N-No!” the woman squealed, her hands cupped. “Don’t listen to this idiot. I’ll tell you everything you need to know. Just give us your word that you'll let us leave afterwards.”

"And I'm the idiot," the guy muttered under his breath.

Jericho retracted the blade slightly. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll think about it.”

She bit her lip before blabbering. “W-We were sent by the Explorer Guild of the Valis branch, taking part in the exam. Selena and a few others are currently watching over us from nearby, gauging whether now is the time to intervene.”

Jericho raised a brow. “The Valis branch exam? As if I’d believe that cow shit. Why would that pyromaniac do such a thing out here? Don’t know a whole lot about how they do things over there, but I know they do exams in safer places.”

“B-But—”

“Look at this blade here,” Jericho cut in. “‘Bout just a flick away from the jugular. A quick nick is all I have to do and you’ll bleed out in seconds. No amount of healing can fix such a wound in that short time, so why don’t you do us both a favor and cut the crap. Selena ain’t here to save you. Being chained up like that, intimidation doesn't really work.”

“I’m telling you we’re participants of the Valis branch’s exam. Our objective is to cross this swamp and reach the other side, where one overseer is waiting,” the woman desperately insisted.

Tyrus frowned. What the heck was she talking about? There wasn’t any overseer waiting at the end of the swamp. Assuming she was right, someone would have already handled the bandits unless they purposely left them for the participants to defeat. Knowing Selena, she was the type of person to make someone’s life as difficult as possible for whatever unreasonable reason.

Additionally, it was strange how the man remained confident despite having a blade held against his throat. Usually a person would be nervously glancing at the weapon on the verge of killing them or at least try to shuffle away. Instead, he wasn’t nervous at all—quite the opposite.

Regarding the woman, although she occasionally stuttered, Tyrus didn't sense that she was also terrified. He could tell by the body language and eyes that she was hiding something. Her sprinkling in lies only furthered his suspicions.

Jericho, too, raised a brow. “An overseer, eh? At the end of the swamp? Now that’s a story I’d believe. Though, what I can’t wrap my head around is why there’s no escort, a branch leader, or anything like that stopping me or my men.”

“They’re hiding like this oaf mentioned before. The overseer is waiting alone. But there are several parties waiting nearby, so we can’t exactly say that the overseer is all by themselves. One of them is Sir Geroth, a royal knight I swear!”

Jericho’s hand twitched. “That’s quite rich. Sir Geroth and Selena? Now you’re pulling my leg. A royal knight has no business in the Wasteful Wetlands unless ordered. I really should kill and throw your bodies into the lake for the crocs to feed on.”

“Go ahead and try,” the man urged. He even tilted his head to the sky, as if inviting Jericho to cut his throat.

Jericho stared at the two and sheathed his dagger. “While I would love to indulge in your request, I find your willingness to die strange. Are you luring me into a trap, hoping I let down my guard? Maybe you have a buddy of yours waiting for some kind of signal. This story about Selena and that royal knight was a ploy to keep my attention and stall. If I were to guess, a friend of yours will pop up and attack me soon.”

“I’ve no clue what you’re talking about,” the man replied. For a split second, he even glanced over Jericho’s shoulder and made eye contact with Tyrus. “It was only us you’ve captured. Besides, Sir Geroth wouldn’t let us die.”

Jericho turned, scanning the area, but quickly returned his gaze to the two. “So you admit that you have a friend out there?”

“If we had one, don’t you think that they would have appeared already? Also, no one is crazy enough to infiltrate a fishing village filled with bandits unless you got the skills to. If I were you, I’d get out of here quickly before the overseers lose their patience.”

“Like hell I will,” Jericho said with a chuckle. “We got a job to do and our boss ain’t letting us out anytime soon. You can say whatever you want and lie till your balls turn purple, but ain't no overseer waiting for you on the other side. Only thing they'll find is a mangled body.”

Suddenly, Jericho rose and backpedaled with a smile. “Because of you, I’ve learned a lot. As your reward, you can live longer. Enjoy the refreshing air while I attend important business.”

After his parting words, Jericho spun around and departed into the central building. Afterward, the bandits taking care of the buffalo came out. One of them broke off and took the bridge toward the buffalo while the others stayed with the prisoners, watching them like hawks. The straggler didn’t return, presumably watching over the buffalo.

Surprisingly, the bandits were silent as the dead. None of them made a sound nor did they bother communicating with the prisoners. Likewise, the prisoners were the same, except they did the occasional glare or frown. The man still didn’t seem bothered by his predicament while the woman glanced at her hands every so often.

Wait, the hands!

On their hand would be a Tracer to show the location of the person. The man had nothing while the woman wore it in her right hand, out of the sight of the bandits. It was only visible for a half a second when her arm twitched and the flash of silver entered his view.

“If she has Tracer, then why didn’t she back out? She seemed scared enough to pass out from fright, yet she insisted on taking her chances. Why is that...”

As Tyrus stood there contemplating, wondering not only about her choice, but how to break them free, his ears pricked at the sound of breathing. He turned his head just in time to see the tip of a blade approaching the bridge of his nose.

In a moment of reflex, Tyrus dropped low, allowing the weapon to fly over. While doing so, the dagger barely touched the surface of his hair. And without thinking, he pushed himself away from the crevice and out into the open.

“We have an intruder!” someone shouted from the roof. The same roof of the hut Tyrus was just next to.

The bandits, upon realizing the shout, whipped their heads to the side. The two posted in front charged forward, swords drawn while the one on the roof jumped down and rushed from behind.

Uh-oh was all Tyrus could muster now that his cover was blown. For being a Beastfolk with exceptional senses, he could only curse at his own stupidity. Being ambushed from above was one of the worst possible situations he could ever get into, but it was too late to regret.

Because he was too involved in the conversation, he neglected his surroundings and allowed someone to get close. Now the bandits had the advantage. There was no escape. No way of retreating.

Tyrus gritted his teeth and pulled a sword out of the storage ring. His muscles swelled with renewed energy and his palms tingled with mana, ready for a spell to be slung from.

If he had to guess, he had around half of his mana left in storage. Using all of it now would be bad for later, but did he have a choice? Holding back would only be the death of him, especially when every bandit heard the alarm, including Jericho. First, he would deal with the first wave and free the captives—

“Wait!” one of them yelled. “Look at his hand!”

The other two bandits skidded to a halt, staring at the ring with skepticism. “A-Am I seeing that right?”

“There’s no doubt about it,” the one who jumped from the roof answered. “That is definitely the ring of Scourge. Why does that brat have it?”

“Isn’t the kid a bit too young for Scourge?”

“You’re missing the point,” the roof-jumping bandit snapped. “The kid has the ring. Not just anyone can have that. Just look at the green jewel and craftmanship. The top brass must’ve given it to him—or he stole it.”

An awkward silence fell. Tyrus could sense the tension rise and their uneasiness by the way they were shuffling their feet. They weren’t sure whether or not to attack. He could use this confusion to his advantage.

And just like that, a plan inconceivable to him hit him like a slap across the face. He lowered his sword slightly and turned stone-faced.

“Sezor... sent me.”