Rise of Tyrus

Tyrus found his erratic breathing to be the most irksome. Each breath felt like his chest was being poked by needles. However, through the chest and head pains, none of them compared to the absolute awe that he was witnessing in front of him. Fleetingly, he had forgotten about his goal of regaining as much mana as possible and healing.

Igneal, with a blade cooler and sharper than Tyrus’, cut through the toads as if they were parchment, never once hitting a tree or getting his sword caught in any foliage. Every action, whether it was the placement of his feet or the positioning of his hands, exuded both precision and power.

In one thrust, the toads would crumble underneath him, stunned by their wounds, before being killed by the swiftest slash or a thrust that had their fluids bursting out. With a smile on his face, Igneal chuckled and moved about the battle like the deadly predator that he was. A toad would take no more than two hits before falling over with a croak.

Not only was his swordsmanship a sight to behold, but his magical power was just as good, if not better. Even a Fire Bolt smaller than a Lightning Bolt was enough to kill them without needing multiple.

Whenever a toad unleashed their spit at Igneal, he shot forth a Fire Bolt directly at the projectile. Once they clashed mid-air, both the green slime and the Fire Bolt dissolved until there was nothing left. Then he would follow-up with a stab to their head and quickly proceed to the next one. Or if his blade was already lodged within a beast and another was right next to him, a torrent of flames would meet the beast, engulfing and destroying it before it retaliated.

It was marvelous, as if Tyrus was staring at an admirable battle. It had the effect of melting his worries and quenching his thirst, refreshing his very core. And even with a dwindling mana heart and aching head, Tyrus pushed the fatigue he was experiencing aside and focused on the one-sided slaughter the best he could. Naturally, he made a point to take deep breaths and replenish his mana and energy as much as he could.

Soon, the wave of toads slowed in its endless pursuit. More corpses—blazing and cut down—began littering the forest. But Igneal cared not for the mess he had caused. Still, he avoided using his flames on the trees themselves, opting to use his sword instead of magic.

As soon as he finished the last toad, Igneal smiled. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Dirt was visible on his legs and shoes, and blood stained his rich garments. Although it was a subtle change, the raggedness in his chest and his damp shirt had grown to a point where Igneal didn’t bother to hide his exhaustion. With how much energy he’s depleted helping Tyrus and fighting beasts, his eyes looked as if he was ready for more.

Breathing heavily, Igneal nodded at Tyrus with a satisfied smirk. He took the sword by the edge and whipped the residue off, proceeding to swing his sword several times. Blood and a strange liquid splattered the ground in a messy fashion. Once he finished cleaning, he shuffled over to Tyrus.

“Usually an Elemental Sorcerer would rely on their magic to dispatch their enemies. The stupid ones wouldn’t even think of carrying a blade, and the competent would. Do you know why that is?”

Tyrus groggily blinked. The pain was disappearing bit by bit, and the fog in his brain slowly lifted. “...I heard it’s because learning and mastering magic takes time, leaving them little time to learn the blade.”

Igneal stood in front of Tyrus, nodding. “Can you believe that? It’s a dumb reason to believe and rely on. It's a common excuse for the weak and lazy to avoid putting in more effort into training. I see it as a slow-acting poison to one’s potential.”

Igneal whimsically stuck his clean sword into the ground, the metal gently thrumming. He smiled at it as if the steel were some precious mineral and then back at Tyrus.

“However, there is some truth to it. The time spent training your swordsmanship and stamina could be used to mastering spells. With powerful magic, worrying about close-quarter combat decreases. But because they think that way is why they are stupid. Then again, I don’t blame them. Only geniuses can be great at magic and swordsmanship. That is a lesson my father has imparted to me. Let me show you an example.”

With little effort, Igneal removed his blade and swung at a nearby corpse. At first, Tyrus did not know what he meant by that, nor did he know what he was looking for. An example of what, exactly? All he did was swing at the air. Anyone could do that.

That was when it happened. When Igneal’s brow furrowed, mana from his palm seeped into the blade. The surrounding air heated; right after, Igneal slashed at the same corpse again. Flames burst forth in a wide frontward arc. In three heartbeats, all that remained behind was a patch of burnt grass and rising steam. A deep black gash was formed at the spot where the toad was struck.

Tyrus gaped at the corpse of the toad. “How did you—”

Panting, Igneal stabbed his sword into the mud and leaned into it. “What I just done was use magic and the sword at the same time. All I did was manipulate my mana and push it into my weapon. To do that, you need excellent control of mana and the magic you wish to bring forth. Using magic through inanimate objects differs greatly from living beings. A lot to consider, difficult to control. Not for me, that is.”

Tyrus head spun from the explanation. Controlling the mana inside your body and outputting it wasn’t hard. When an Elemental Sorcerer wanted to cast a spell through silent casting, they imagine what the spell was like and infused their mana with those thoughts. For Tyrus, it came to him as easily as breathing, much like Beast Transformation.

But using magic through a sword? That was unheard of to him. If he had to make a comparison, it would be much like using an artifact. They were items imbued with mana, after all, yet it didn’t require mana to use them. How else would Jericho use the flying dagger when he wasn’t a sorcerer himself?

Just as Tyrus was about to ask Igneal some follow-up questions, the distinct sound of twigs crunching from his right side entered his ears. He recognized boots stomping against the earth, a tense conversation between people, and the smell of lizardmen. Without thinking, he used the tree as support and hoisted himself up, groaning as his bones creaked and muscles ached.

As soon as he rose on shaky legs, Wyford and Mitha hurried over, both wearing grim expressions. Mitha had a nasty gash across her cheek and leg while Wyford’s hair was let loose, speckled with dirt and blood. Other than that, they seemed fine.

“They’re coming,” Mitha panted as she and Wyford joined the two. “No time for chatter. We have to lose the lizardmen, fast! Can you run on your own?”

Tyrus thought about it. His mana heart was scraping by and he regained some of his energy back. Because he was an Augmentation Sorcerer, using mana to replenish stamina was an option. In a way, it resembled a trade. To get something, one must offer something in return. In order to accumulate more mana over time, he traded as sparingly as possible. His head and chest still pained him, but at the moment he didn’t have the luxury of taking it easy.

“I can run on my own,” Tyrus replied.

Mitha gazed at his face before turning to Igneal. “Is that okay with you, Lord Igneal?”

Igneal said nothing, only motioning forward. Wyford took that as a yes and grabbed Mitha by the shoulder.

“Let’s move, yes? The beasts along the way should slow them down. Unless you want to get captured again, I’ll be the first to leave.”

Wyford sheathed his blade and began sprinting in the opposite direction, and Mitha went after him. With a heavy sigh, Igneal made no complaints about putting his sword away, following the others. Not wanting to be left out, Tyrus started walking on his own.

Like a hot iron stabbed into his head, Tyrus yelped from the sudden pain. Still, he gritted his teeth and ignored it as he forced his muscles to pump life through him. By solely focusing on his breath and keeping in sync with the others, the pain diminished to a mere irritation that clung to him like a bloodsucker. And despite everything happening around him, Tyrus’s mind kept wandering back to the awe-inspiring magic showcased by Igneal, curious about whether such a feat was difficult for him to achieve.