Rise of Tyrus

An artifact can come in a variety of sizes and shapes, housing different enchantments and mana capacities based on the material or magic used. Whatever the nature, no matter if its size was as minuscule as a thumb to the grand statue of Sthito that stood guard at the Imperial Palace, there was a common consensus.

All artifacts, without exception, pose a potential threat and should be approached with caution.

Each one possessed its own unique abilities, for in the hands of a mortal they were capable of extraordinary feats. In legends, some can bend space and time while others can heal fatal injuries in seconds. Another could come in the shape of a sword and unleash fire as hot as the pits of hell, or even as a crown that granted the wearer dominion over others.

However, like any treasure, its contents are a lottery. But if an artifact were to be found, it is Lethos’ law to immediately hand it over to the imperial council where the Keeper of Relics safeguards and contains the relic. Should it be deemed too dangerous for Lethos—or for mankind—such an object would never see the light of day, lest the world tremble at its powers.

That is why it was imperative for Geroth to accept Selena’s request. It was his sole duty to take action against those that disrupts peace and order and eliminate any threats that endanger the lives of the residents. To execute intruders who bring peril to His Majesty land, to protect the innocent and vanquish anything that may potentially cause harm.

But most importantly, those who threaten the security of his family. He has heard the story of Draknir’s Folly and the calamitous effects of unburdened corrupted mana. The thought of Grant or Lem mutating into horrific creatures hardened his resolve.

Geroth closed the distance, thundering forward with a focus. Three spheres of compressed shadow, significantly more potent than their previous form, were launched at him from the rear. Though he had expected a similar projectile attack as before, he made no effort in evasion. That would only slow him down.

Instead, Geroth cut right through. Darkness spread far and wide, sweeping past his boots and over his wrist as the force pushed him back by a step. Though his mana shield lessened the power of the attack, the magical blow was enough to shake his arms. Wiggling his fingers and rotating his wrists, the pain faded as he continued onwards.

The dark sorcerer unleashed a barrage of Shadow Bolts as he hopped around like a grasshopper. Geroth sliced through each one with relative ease; They all missed their target, thanks to his speed. He was already near the sorcerer. A dozen more Shadow Bolts spawned in the air, floating menacingly around him as if waiting for his orders.

“Quite the nimble fox, aren’t ya!” Geroth shouted. “I don’t suppose it’s too much to ask of you to hold still?”

“Aren’t you quite the noisy one,” his foe mocked. “Keep barking, and you just may lure a pack of wild dogs.”

Geroth frowned. He knew the battle would not be easy. Usually Augmentation Sorcerers had the advantage against Elemental Sorcerers, but this one possessed an ample amount of speed to pull away safely and conjure his magic simultaneously. Regarding his magic, the sorcerer’s casting time was quick as well as packing quite the punch. In these conditions, a sorcerer lacking focus and training would lack one of those two things.

But then again, the other party was no amateur. Even from such a brief exchange, he could tell his foe’s proficiency with magic. They can attack with devastating strength while keeping the casting time low. Just the fact that a measly Shadow Bolt pushed him back a step was cause for concern.

Another to point out was their insistence on using a low-ranked spell. From what he knew, Shadow Bolt was a projectile of dark energy that sapped the opponents’ energy upon contact. The attack didn’t contain a massive amount of mana to corrode his mana shield, but Geroth could more or less guess the sorcerer’s goal: to overwhelm their opponent with an abundance of Shadow Bolts.

Unfortunately for them, that tactic wouldn't be effective on him.

The dark sorcerer shot forth the idle Shadow Bolts. Instead of slicing through them and risking damage, Geroth leaped to the side, watching as they slammed right into the ground, cracking the solid surface into chips and splinters. The paltry amount of grass that remained turned black and shriveled like a burned corpse. Then the sorcerer threw his hand up, launching another half a dozen Shadow Blades towards the spot Geroth landed.

He’s smart as well.

Setting his feet, Geroth faced the assault head on. His blade became infused with mana, flowing faster than ever before and creating a dense coating on the edges of the double-edged sword. In one swing, he unleashed a mana slash as thick as his sword. Just as he had planned, the attack intercepted the magic, effortlessly annihilating the conjured Shadow Bolts. Bursting out from the impact, a cloud of shadows dashed forward and completely drained the meager life energy that remained in the tree stumps and rotten plants.

Geroth frowned, scanning the landscape. The sinister sorcerer vanished into the midst of the explosion, likely already devising a fresh strategy. He won’t be that easy to fool, though.

“Above you,” a voice said calmly.

Geroth quickly looked up and saw the dark sorcerer standing atop the altar, his cloak flowing to reveal bronze-colored skin.

“That skin color... Are you perhaps Askelian?” Geroth asked. “If you aren’t from Lethos, then tell me, what prompted you to take your despicable cause here? I cannot imagine despising the Wasteful Wetlands enough to rend it inhospitable. That would be an idiotic reason.”

“As if my masters would stoop to such an ungrand plan,” the dark sorcerer hissed.

Geroth smiled. So the sorcerer wasn’t working alone. Though it wasn’t his main objective, it would greatly help his cause if he could figure out the foe’s motivations. That, however, was a matter for later. From what he has learned, the dark sorcerer was operating under a master whom they consider superior, and their intentions are somehow linked to the aforementioned one true God. Could the master he was referring to be the ruler of Askalid?

No, that couldn’t be right. Bronze skin was a trait mostly tied to the Askelians. If their plan was to cause chaos within Lethos, it would make sense to hide their skin color from the scrutinizing eye of Lethos’ knights, who would immediately make the distinction. If His Majesty were to hear that an Askelian was responsible for the corrupted mana, then his worries will split between the Beastfolk Kingdom and the Askalid Empire. A war on two fronts would spell certain doom for Lethos.

“Oh, by the way,” the sorcerer interjected, “I’m not Askelian. The bronze skin you see is nothing more than the fog playing tricks on you. Look again, royal knight.”

Geroth narrowed his eyes, honing in on the man’s neck. When his eyes adjusted, he noticed it wasn’t skin at all, but in fact armor plating underneath the cloak. Embedded on his chest was a small design that took the form of a tiger, fangs bared. Moreover, the sorcerer slowly crept over to their mask, lifting the chin where he delicately pressed a nail into the tip, popping it loose to reveal the head of a tiger: a black tiger.

“What sort of trickery is this?" Geroth asked. "Is this some sort of illusion crafted by your foul magic? I observed your mana signature, and it matched exactly with that of a human sorcerer.”

The man inclined his chin as if insulted. “Why would I resort to such paltry tricks? I am a full-fledged black tiger, the kin of Murus himself. What more proof than I standing here beside you today, face uncovered, do you need? Should I use Beast Transformation as well? Or maybe unleash the fury of the skies upon you? I could, but that would simply be too much for you.”

“Bold words,” Geroth said calmly. “But are you certain about that? Those who do not put in the effort will ultimately fail. Abstain from using the abilities you were born with, but don’t be surprised if an outcome you expected eludes you.”

The black tiger laughed. “You flap your tongue as if you’re wise, but you only pretend to be. You speak of effort, yet as clear as day you display the opposite. Are you a hypocrite, or are all royal knights as pathetic as you?”

The look on Geroth’s face darkened, but it was only for a moment as he reined in his emotions. Losing his cool when the enemy of Lethos itself was mocking his pride was something he could not allow. To lose such composure and allow his opponent to use such as a weakness against him would be a fatal mistake. A calm and hardy mind was key to combat—his sword instructor often reminded Geroth of such things.

“It is true I am holding back partially,” Geroth admitted. “Perhaps even more than you think, but it is for a reason, you see. I was merely loosening your tongue, biding my time until I’ve learned enough in these dire circumstances. For that, I thank you for your cooperation. But now you understand, there’s no use prolonging this conversation.”

The black tiger rolled his eyes. “So you royal knights truly are unintelligent. What can you do in this situation? In case you haven't noticed, I hit you with one of my Shadow Bolts. Surely you’re aware of its effects? Or is Lethos’ education that lackluster?”

“Your mana should also be dwindling rapidly because of your mana shield. It won’t be long until your mana heart is bottomed out and corrupted mana consumes your body. Do you finally see the situation you have waltzed into? This effort you speak of can’t help you out of this hopeless predicament.”

Silence filled the air for as both eyed each other in amusement and scrutiny. The black tiger was right about one thing: his mana heart was being sapped dry, and Shadow Bolt alongside the onslaught of corrupted mana only furthered the process. At some point, he’ll be bereft of the mana supplied in his heart, and mana shield would inevitably break.

However, even with all the odds against him, Geroth still failed to be bothered. A smirk rose on his lips as he gazed at the other party with interest. He met those predatory eyes and sensed the cold hostility being emitted from the Beastfolk.

“Let's determine if this situation is truly as dire as you suggest.”

Right as those words left his lips, Geroth leaped toward the altar, sword blurring. A flicker of surprise flashed across the sorcerer’s face, yet the Beastfolk dexterously hopped back, narrowly evading the edge of Geroth’s sword. The royal knight didn’t let his chance slip by and rotated even faster, the blade singing as it grazed the cheek of the black tiger. His face shimmered briefly, but returned to its usual state.

Though surprised, the foe descended the altar and landed on the soft ground. Geroth followed and appeared right in front of the black tiger. As soon as his toes touched mud, a spear of darkness was already hurtling his way. Rather than attempting to dodge the attack, Geroth countered with another swift and powerful mana slash, propelling himself forward like a speeding arrow.

In a heartbeat, Geroth tore through the clash and opened the blade wide, a white crescent glow stretching across the double-edged sword. His opponent grunted, scowling as he was face to face with Geroth. Rather than retreat, the man raised his arm at Geroth’s downward swing, almost as if he were about to stop the attack with his bare hands. Despite this, a cloud of darkness instantly materialized, taking the form of a slender, black sword, and blocked the attack. The two locked blades, sparks flying, before the black tiger kicked off of Geroth and bounced far away.

“Is this all your effort amounts to—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Geroth disappeared, leaving behind a trail of kicked-up dirt. A quick glance to his left revealed a sword's pointed tip, barely grazing his nose, with only a few inches separating him from life and death. This time the sorcerer leaped a foot back, distancing himself away from Geroth and putting up a better guard near the altar.

Geroth emerged swiftly from the right, his sword already in motion, like a gust of wind. The black tiger had no way of even blinking as he was forced to defend the swift lunge attack; he shifted his feet and countered the blow. His arms buckled from the sudden force. Geroth noticed the tiger’s jaw was clenched, both hands gripping the hilt ever so fiercely.

He won’t last much longer, the royal knight thought grimly. Instead of pulling away, Geroth applied more force, his sword chipping through the dark blade of his foe. The black tiger furrowed his brows, as if ready to give up, until a terrible glint crossed his eyes and vanished just as quickly.

Geroth recognized that split-second expression and looked up just in time to see dark spears raining down upon him. He kicked his opponent square in the stomach and hopped backward, dodging the attacks by a wide margin. When he glanced back at his enemy, the dark tiger disappeared in a wisp of shadows, leaving no clues where his opponent fled. But Geroth didn’t have to look further as he felt a faint presence of mana behind him.

Tendrils of dark magic and shadow engulfed Geroth as soon as he spun around. They wrapped around his heels and snaked toward his thighs, clambering up his torso like shackles. He felt his mana reserves dropping at a frightening rate and his mana shield dimming ever so slightly. Even so, that wasn’t enough to alarm the royal knight.

Geroth effortlessly broke free from the shackles, treating them as if they were no stronger than wet paper. Instantly after, the Beastfolk appeared in front of the cube, readying another wave of Shadow Bolts and spears. Just what is the extent of this person's mana? Does the beast use an item or something to store these ridiculous quantities?

Geroth failed to sense any weaknesses from the tiger. Fast casting time, huge mana pool, and the element of surprise with magic that few have witnessed. He should have the advantage against the black tiger, yet he seemed like he was the one running on borrowed time.

What should he do? He was already supplying most of his mana by strengthening his mana shield to keep the corruption at bay. Enhancing his agility and strength to catch the tiger off-guard couldn’t be done unless something was done against all of this corrupted mana. It won’t be long before his mana heart depletes before his opponents.

Regarding his opponent, how was he able to move freely in proximity with corrupted mana? Dark sorcerer or not, not even he should be immune to its toxic effects. Something must be protecting his body without the need of a mana shield. Was it an artifact, or perhaps the work of magic?

“This game of tag is getting stale,” the Beastfolk said. “Facing you was more of an ordeal than I initially thought. For a moment, I was worried, but it seems it was for naught. You truly have no idea the difference between our power. All you’re good for is running around and swinging that hunk of metal like a mindless barbarian.”

For the first time since the battle began, Geroth chuckled. “A mindless barbarian, is it? What’s so bad about that if it gets the job done?”

“You have accomplished nothing. What is the use of a dog that cannot perform tasks for its owner? Your efforts would have been better spent toiling at the mines. At least that figure of yours would be useful there.”

“I could say the same for you,” Geroth retorted, shuffling backward. A pile of bones and rock entered his view. “What would your master think of allowing an intruder to impede your progress? They must think of you as a mongrel, no? It’s as they say: the pupil represents their teacher.”

The black tiger’s nostrils flared. “You dare disrespect Master Raroan—”

In the blink of an eye, Geroth threw his entire weight into the closest femur he could find. With a grunt, he chucked the giant bone right at the black tiger before he could finish uttering his master’s name. Geroth’s gamble seemed to have paid off as his foe wasn’t expecting him to throw, much less a bone, at him. The Beastfolk frowned and allowed a swirling vortex to swallow it whole.

The moment the tiger looked past the magic, new projectiles entered his view, most of them being rocks and bones. However, all of them were glowing white, each one filled with a substantial amount of mana.

The first rock rendered the vortex of shadows useless. Next came a bone, aimed straight for his chest. Then a bone clipped his chin, following a skull that blocked his vision. The black tiger dealt with them all with his blade. When he sliced through the skull, he immediately noticed Geroth wasn’t in the same spot.

He was above.

Geroth swung his sword down, his form like an angel descending from the heavens. The black tiger shifted his gaze, eyes widening at the sight of sharp metal rapidly approaching him. With no time to cast magic or retreat, the sorcerer took the blow head on, crossing blades with Geroth. Much to his dismay, the dark blade Geroth cracked before snapped in half.

In one fluid swing, Geroth cut through the dark sorcerer’s armor. The blade dug into his shoulder and split apart the metal, entering his flesh and cutting even deeper. The impact forced the man into a limp as he stumbled backward and onto the ground. Geroth watched as the man grabbed hold of the gaping wound before blood pulsated out.

Geroth approached and leveled his sword at the sorcerer’s neck. His eyes narrowed at his features. Sure enough, he looked like a black tiger up close. Jet black fur, pointed, tufted ears and predatory eyes. Still, Geroth found it hard to believe that it truly was a black tiger responsible for this mess.

“Before I lop off your head, do you have any clue what your actions have done for the Beastfolk Kingdom? Once I report this to His Majesty, tensions between our countries will flare up again. Senseless blood will be shed; is that what you want for your countrymen? Our countrymen?”

The black tiger laughed dryly. “If that’s what it takes to finally be rid of vermin like you, then so be it.”

“…It seems that you have a tendency towards insanity. A wicked and foolish heart that cannot be reasoned with. May Sthito bestow blessings upon your soul in the afterlife and grant forgiveness for your transgressions against this world.”

Geroth clutched his weapon tighter, on the verge of finishing the job. When his shoulders tensed, an ominous feeling overcame him. Why was his adversary still smiling in the face of death? Was there truly something up his sleeve he was unaware of?

All thoughts were thrown out the window when Geroth watched an ominous pulse emanate from the black tiger. The fallen foe released shadows from his body, resembling the flames of a roaring bonfire.

Alarmed by the sudden change, Geroth swung his sword directly at his neck. However, a ghostly tendril blocked it, as tough as steel. Geroth hopped back immediately, watching as the opponent ascended from the ground as if possessed.

The cube shook violently until a loud rumbling joined, ringing in his ears. Where once it stood a pitch black portal, now emitting a faint red light from within, reminiscent of eyes. Then, the sorcerer’s body exploded into a cloud of thick shadows. The corrupted mana from the cube streamed into him, surrounding his entire body like a flicker of starlight.

Alongside the surge of mana swirling within the cloud, what came out of the other side was a forelimb and piercing, golden-brown eyes. Geroth readied his blade, wondering what in Sthito’s good name was occurring before him. Fleetingly, he thought of retreating and coming back with Zephyr to deal with the threat, but he immediately pushed away that thought.