Rise of Tyrus

Tyrus was glad he wasn’t the only one who thought the whole situation was odd. He was wondering why Branch Leader Selena, Sir Geroth, or that Zephyr guy hadn’t shown up despite the fact that the exam had officially started. One would think that they would be close enough to monitor them in case something went wrong. To see whether the applicants were worthy enough to join the Explorer Guild. And like Mitha mentioned, Tyrus had not seen or even smelled them at all.

“I think so too,” Tyrus said slowly. “Many times I’ve been in situations where an overseer could’ve intervened, yet none came. I fought off a crocodile in the water, ran from lizardmen, and almost died at the hands of Jericho.”

Wyford gasped. “You fought a croc in water!? Good gods! You’re better than I give you credit for. You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

“Pulling my... leg?” Tyrus‘s eyebrows scrunched. “What do your legs have to do with any of this?”

“He means if you were joking,“ Mitha interjected, fixing her hair. “A kid escaping from the jaws of a crocodile is nearly impossible unless they were a sorcerer, which you are, so it’s believable. Branch Leader Selena favors you as well, so there’s that.”

Wyford leaned back and sighed. “Anyway, we haven’t seen the overseers yet and we firmly believe they’re absent. To put it bluntly, that’s a big problem and our chances of survival plummet. We’re probably deep within lizardmen territory, there are many beasts roaming about, and we have to worry about Scourge. Frankly, the exam is the least of our problems.”

“If you’re so worried about your survival, then how about we confirm if you say is true?” Everyone glanced up; Igneal had a bored expression as he leaned against a thick root fixed to a wall. He yawned, scratching his ear with a pinky. “There’s a simple way, really, and it’s something we all possess.”

Wyford chuckled nervously. “Erm, Lord Igneal, I don’t see what you’re getting at here.“

“I’m suggesting you speak the magical words into Tracer. What’s so complicated about that? I thought I was being obvious enough.“

“I... cannot do that,” Wyford said. “If we happen to be wrong, then coming this far would be for nothing.”

Igneal snorted, shaking his head. “I’ve heard enough of your nonsense. Speak the words and get it over with. Weaklings who get cold feet in the face of danger aren’t fit to be explorers of Aunt Selena’s branch. Tell me, commoners, are you weaklings?”

Wyford opened his mouth but paused. “Wait, did you just call me a—”

“Are you?” Igneal demanded, glaring daggers.

Wyford frowned, but kept his gaze steady. “No, Lord Igneal.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. And since you aren’t weaklings, there’s nothing stopping you from completing a simple task to finish the exam.“

Mitha’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you propose, Lord Igneal?”

A devilish grin crept across the noble’s face. “Simple, really. We head for the source of all of your troubles: the artifact nestled around here.”

Confusion filled Wyford’s face. “There’s an artifact around here? That’s impossible. Artifacts are as rare as finding a male unicorn! Only a few people have the power to craft them as well. Excuse me for asking, Lord Igneal, but how are you so sure?”

Igneal shook his head with a sigh. “You unblessed are so ignorant about us sorcerers. Just as we can perceive and observe the mana in our surroundings using mana sense, the same principle applies to corrupted mana. It is like splotches of ink mixed with water. They stand out and are quite noticeable. Even now, the presence of corruption is growing stronger, meaning we’ve been nearing the source during our tactical retreat.”

Now that Igneal mentioned it, Tyrus could feel it as well. The presence of corrupted mana increased, mixing with the pure mana. No wonder absorbing mana was going at a snail’s pace. Although Tyrus wasn't deliberately meditating to speed up the absorption process, he could sense that the mana was sluggish. Almost reluctant to go inside his body.

“There are only a few ways that corrupted mana can occur. Creatures who carry corrupted mana cores secretes corrupted mana from their bodies, thus polluting the surroundings. Another, while extremely rare, stems from an artifact. The latter scenario is true, as the corrupted mana is rapidly escalating, with a masked dark sorcerer being responsible. Aunt Selena herself has confirmed this.”

“...If it came out of Branch Leader Selena’s mouth, then I have no reason to doubt you,” Wyford replied. “But I still think it’s risky. How can we be sure we arrive there in one piece? There’s lizardmen as plentiful as the grass and beasts that would love to have us for dinner.”

"Clearly, we establish our own path by eliminating them," Igneal retorted, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “The swamp imps and toads are no threat, and the lizardman can be stopped with fire. Considering your claim of not being weak, this should be a straightforward endeavor. You became explorers to prove yourselves and grow stronger. Vanquishing a dark sorcerer, completing the exam, and gaining my favor is worth it, no?”

Wyford shook his head. “We want to become explorers to accept and complete contracts for their rewards. No offense, Lord Igneal, but I will have to refuse. We have families waiting for us back in Lindell. I’d rather stay here for the time being and take our chances. The overseers will have everything under control soon. What use would I be to my family dead?”

“I agree with Wyford,” Mitha said, crossing her arms. “We were supposed to complete the exam, not be senselessly slaughtered like cattle. I don’t expect someone of your high status to understand our woes. We only stayed because of the special benefits Branch Leader Selena promised. It’s bound to be something amazing. Playing it safe is the smarter choice. If that makes us weaklings, then I’ll gladly take that on the chin.“

They have a point, Tyrus mused. It was wise to stay in the rundown shack for another hour or two, as long as the lizards didn't discover their hiding place. It was the safe thing to do. It was the exact plan Tyrus had in mind when he first step foot in the Wasteful Wetlands. The primary aim of the exam was to last for three hours, rather than prioritize killing beasts or seeking treasures. Igneal was essentially doing the opposite of what was assigned.

To make matters worse, Tyrus was in a worse condition than he was before entering the fishing village. Recovering as much as he could should be his top priority. Confronting the masked sorcerer may not do good things for his body and could even speed up his mortality. If he meditated now, refilling his mana heart should go smoother. But before that, there was something important to finish.

“I’m not in great condition to head out right now, so we should stay here for the time being,” Tyrus said, looking straight into Igneal’s disgusted eyes. “Just think about it for a moment. We should spend this break recovering our stamina and mana. Heading into battle weakened and tired is entirely stupid, a plan unfit for a sorcerer. If we were to fight a dark sorcerer unprepared, then achieving our goals won’t happen if we’re dead. The family head position would transfer to one of your siblings instead. You don’t want that, do you, Igneal?”

Igneal stared back. His eyes then roamed all over Tyrus, fixating on the several gashes all over his body. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as no one spoke. Another gust of wind passed through the crack of the door, making the whole structure rattle feverishly. The foul smells outside seeped inside the shack like a poisonous fog, enveloping their noses and clinging to their garments.

Everyone watched Igneal, anxiously awaiting him to say something. Anything. The noble wore an unreadable expression, as his gaze never faltered on Tyrus. For a second, a twinge of annoyance flashed in Igneal’s eyes before he turned his back. Igneal casually walked towards the farthest corner and sat with his back against the wall.

“You make a compelling argument. We’ll sit in this stink hole for the time being. However, once I have fully recuperated, I’m setting off. With an artifact and the chance to get rid of a dark sorcerer within my reach, my patience is growing thin.”

Tyrus nodded. “Don’t worry, Igneal. We’ll be out of here soon. Mitha and Wyford can stay while we deal with the threat ourselves later. We can’t force them to do something they don’t want to do. Remember our conversation earlier?”

“No need to reiterate what you've already mentioned. Just stop talking and focus on your mana heart.”

As if the conversation was over, Igneal shut his eyes and stayed quiet. Sometimes he would take a deep breath, lying completely still. Tyrus figured he was meditating and regaining his mana back. Throughout the journey, he heavily depleted his mana reserves.

Either way, it was ridiculous easily to convince Igneal. Tyrus immediately figured out how to handle the noble the moment he got somewhat used to his personality. Stoking his ego and using words he wanted to hear worked most of the time. So long as what Tyrus said went along with what he wanted to hear, he should be safe for the time being.

Frankly, Tyrus was stalling as much as he could. Using the rest break was just an excuse to burn out the clock. If he went out with a heavily injured body, he wouldn’t last a minute, especially if it was against that same masked man he encountered. Fleeing from enemies with the mindset he held now was the equivalent of wishing to meet his deathbed. Without confidence, without luck, his survival rate was near zero.

Wyford was most likely correct that they were left to fend for themselves. It was strange that despite their experiences, none of them were saved by an overseer. Just thinking about how he and the others barely made it out alive made him think about the others. If Wyford and Mitha were captured easily, then the other applicants were probably dead or running for their lives.

Lost in thought, Tyrus failed to notice that Wyford had moved away from his original position in the room and approached Tyrus.

“Hey,” he whispered, his face nearing Tyrus’s ears. “You sure you two aren’t close? I don’t know if you realized, but you’re speaking to a noble informally. Are you one yourself?”

Tyrus almost laughed. “I wish. I'm just a nobody wishing for a lavish and wealthy life like a noble. Honestly, we're not close at all.”

“Then how come Lord Igneal allows you to speak to him as if your equals?”

Tyrus arched an eyebrow. “As if we’re equals? I’d rather eat rat feces than refer to him as Lord Igneal. Besides, he doesn’t really care what I call him. He tried to correct me before, but when he noticed I wasn’t biting, he stopped and allowed it. At this point I’m tolerating him, but don’t tell him that.”

Wyford rubbed his chin with a finger. “How odd... Nobles rarely act that friendly with commoners, not even to their own associates. There's definitely something he desires from you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Mumbling to himself, Wyford took a step back and brushed past a bored Mitha, inspecting the building once more. Once Tyrus found himself alone, he stood up from his seat and found a clean spot with no debris or tangled roots to settle into, where he then started his meditation. In the limited time he was given, he would have to collect as much as possible.

It was about time he checked the Sorcerer Plane.