Rise of Tyrus

Tyrus crouched down to fasten the laces around his boots. After confirming they were tight and ready, he stood up and inspected himself one last time before heading out.

There were no stains on his tunic and trousers, and his belongings were safely kept in the ring. His belly was satisfied, and his body was brimming with energy. Despite being in good health, one issue persisted: concealment.

He cast a single gaze at the enchanted coat given to him, pulsing with mana as it lay on the table. Tyrus strolled towards the garment and softly lifted it, grazing it with his hands. It was still a surprise to him that he acquired such a splendid item; an item filled with mana that’s able to change its shape.

Using the coat in its longer version would only be applicable when he was walking around or needed some warmth. In battles, the shorter version would be the best. Longer garments were uncomfortable in those situations, as they restricted his movements. He considered it not just from a fighting standpoint, but there was another issue to consider. Erza’s words from yesterday were still fresh in his mind.

“Instead of worrying about what halfwits think of you, focus on what’s important. Those who regard you with contempt, ignore them.”

“Cowardice is a deleterious poison that will slowly undermine your resilience. It’s unbecoming of you to bow your head now that you’re a sorcerer; you have the strength–use it.”

Tyrus gripped the coat. “Is hiding myself cowardly? I just don’t want to take risks when it comes to my appearance. It’ll just be bothersome if I gain all the attention and attract the wrong crowd.”

On second thought, those sentiments only related to his life prior to becoming a sorcerer. Currently, he possessed greater strength than the typical person. By using augmentation, he could effortlessly split a tree in half, and his primary element allowed him to cast spells with devastating power capable of destroying stone. Only individuals stronger than him could have any impact on him.

Given his significant improvement over the weeks, he didn’t have to worry about kidnappers. And with people like Fiona, Reo, and Grant by his side, he wasn’t necessarily alone. In their brief interaction, he felt confident in their reliability and ability to assist him. Good people existed, but so did their opposite, like those kidnappers, the mysterious figures scheming in the middle of the night, and Igneal’s jerk of a father.

Moving forward and achieving his goals would eventually lead to his identity being revealed. Many people were already aware of him, and considering how often he visited the Explorer Guild, delaying his problems would be futile.

Strength wasn’t the only necessity in the guild’s line of work. They needed to have the guts to combat whatever situation they came across and not cower away. Hiding himself was only delaying the inevitable, and he needed to take the first steps to embrace it. He needed to come to terms with it on his own, without the interference of others; to take whatever actions were required to ensure a secure and prosperous future for himself.

No longer would he show such blatant weakness to others.

Determined, Tyrus donned the enchanted coat over his shoulders. In one thought, he imagined the fabric to assume its shorter version, which it did in a few seconds. Neither his tail nor his ears were trapped anymore. He gave them one last look before stepping over to the door. The moment his hand reached for the knob, he prevented himself from turning it. Even though it was slight, he noticed his fingers trembling.

“You made your decision; don’t turn back now.”

Taking a deep breath, Tyrus opened the doors wide. Refusing to let negative thoughts hinder him, he marched out of his room and closed the door. Gradually, he lifted his head and surveyed the inn. On either side of him stood a line of doors, each leading to a room with patrons just like him.

To his left, he saw a woman staring right at him a few doors down. Showing no clear emotion, Tyrus swiftly turned and walked towards the stairs that led to the first floor. Every stair he descended took a significant toll on him. It felt as if he was slogging through mud with a weight on his shoulders. His heart thumped loudly, resembling a million drums, as his blood grew cold.

In the heart of the first floor, there was a throng of people feasting on their morning meal. Upon Tyrus’s arrival, a portion of them ceased their chewing while the rest paid him no attention. Like the woman from earlier, Tyrus brushed off the stares and kept on moving. If they had something bad to say to him, then he would just ignore them, just as Erza advised. He had more important matters to attend to.

Their burning stares stung his neck, but he did the best he could in pretending they weren’t there at all. In a few quick steps, he had already walked past the tables and burst through the inn’s doors. A beam of sunlight and chilly gusts greeted him on his journey to the Explorer Guild.

****

In no time at all, the sight of the Explorer Guild building entered his view. Instead of the customary familiarity he experienced during his visits, he was met with a shocking spectacle.

Surrounding the front entrance of the place was a queue of people, their attention shifted ahead. The common theme he recognized was that a lot of them had weapons on deck, almost as if they were preparing to go to war. Tyrus had to leap on top of a nearby building to get a better view of the place.

“What is going on here? Why are there so many people here?”

As soon as those words left his mouth, he instantly thought of them as stupid questions. On the day of the monthly exam, it was expected that there would be other aspiring explorers. The amount of people wanting to sign up exceeded his assumptions. At most, he expected there to be five or six, not a whopping twelve!

“I better get in line as quickly as possible, so I don’t miss my chance. What if there’s a limit?”

Tyrus pushed aside the thought and looked elsewhere. Close to the entrance, he caught sight of Igneal scanning his surroundings, vigorously tapping his foot on the stone pathway. Positioned beside him was his vigilant bodyguard, maintaining a towering stance and holding two swords firmly. His expression was as stone-faced as he was quiet. After a few seconds of intense observation, the bodyguard redirected his gaze, locking eyes with Tyrus.

Tyrus sucked in his breath. “I wasn’t even in his line of sight and he still knew where I was. Did he feel a pair of eyes on him or sensed my mana? I’m not really suppressing myself, so it’s probably the latter.”

The man looked away from Tyrus and whispered something to Igneal. He too glanced in his direction, and immediately began waving as if greeting an old friend. Tyrus scowled at the action while he climbed down. Once at ground level, he hurried past the line of explorers gawking at him. It took everything in his willpower to stop himself from at least putting on the hood.

“You arrived just in time,” Igneal noted as Tyrus approached. “It seems you’ve chosen to show the world how you look! I applaud your bravery in letting go of your insecurities.”

The anxiety that had plagued him appeared to vanish from his body. “Don’t you have something more important to tell me? I don’t have all day, you know.”

He chuckled. “Yes, the duel. If you would, Sir Wayne.”

Stepping forward, Sir Wayne extended the sword to Tyrus. “Young Master Igneal has asked for a friendly duel with you. Do you accept?”

Without missing a beat, Tyrus snatched the weapon. “Already did so yesterday, and I don’t plan on running away at the last second. I accept this friendly duel.”

At first, Sir Wayne sneered, but he quickly composed himself back to his usual stone-faced persona. “As per Young Master Igneal’s orders, the duel will begin in the guild’s practice grounds. I will ensure proper handling and fairness as the arbiter of the duel. If you have nothing else to say, we will now head to the arena.” Following their statements, Sir Wayne and Igneal promptly moved towards the arena, vanishing through the doors.

“Young Master Igneal and Sir Wayne? Are those official titles or just names they refer to each other as? It’s my first time hearing them...” Tyrus, muttering to himself, was about to follow them when a comment from the crowd caught his attention.

“That Demi-human is going to lose to the Lockhart boy, no doubt. It’s inconceivable for a nobody to triumph over a member of the Great Lineages. I’d wager good money that the Lockhart will win.”

A member of the audience sneered and remarked, “How about we go ahead and watch? Waiting for the sign-ups was making me bored. Fortunately, we have the opportunity to witness a rising star showcase their skills by taking down scum.”

The crowd erupted in laughter as Tyrus stashed the weapon and burst into the building. In spite of the chatter he had just heard, he made a conscious effort to appear calm. Ignoring them would be the optimal choice rather than giving them a reaction or feeding them. It would be a different situation if they confronted him directly or physically intervened.

“I’ll show them. If they decide to watch, then so be it. They’ll be surprised when I’m the one who’s still standing.”

Now inside the Explorer Guild, the interior of the place was much more lively than usual. Every table was occupied, and even more people were standing around as they conversed with one another. The volume was as deafening as a screeching drake, and the atmosphere was more stifling than a cramped tunnel. Ladies in outfits were zooming around, offering mugs to those willing to pay for them.

With numerous people present, Tyrus encountered difficulty in pushing through. Whenever he bumped into someone, he would mutter a quick apology and move on. Some would shout at him to watch himself, and others would just click their tongue.

Yet, a larger number of people would spot him approaching and make way for him. Before long, he was near the receptionist's desk. Celeste was carrying out her typical tasks, managing the front desk and discussing contracts and payment with explorers. Her job kept her too busy to even notice Tyrus, which was made harder by others blocking her view.

Speaking of notice, where is Fiona? Tyrus wondered. They had not seen each other since yesterday, only parting ways when he had secured a room. In the beginning, he thought he would find her with Igneal, ready for his arrival. So far, she hasn't been on the first floor or even certain areas of the second floor.

Tyrus shrugged it off and made his way to the practice grounds. The open field stretched across the yard, dotted with training dummies and targets. Apart from the typical objects, Igneal and Sir Wayne were present, with spectators observing from the sidelines.

An aura of confidence was practically being exuded from the Lockhart. One hand twirling the sword, he wore a smirk on his face. He stopped it mid-swing when Tyrus walked toward him. “You sure took your time in coming here. Initially, I figured you were having second thoughts, but concluded you knew better.”

Tyrus brought out the practice sword, adjusting his grip. It was much lighter than a steel sword. “Let’s make this quick; I want to save as much energy as possible today. What if I can't register because of the duel?”

Igneal nodded towards Sir Wayne, who mirrored the gesture and moved towards the center of them. Abruptly, he brandished his sword and drove it into the ground. “The duel between Young Master Igneal and the challenger, Tyrus, is about to begin. Can the two participants please move ten steps backward and face their opponent?”

The duo complied and retreated to their designated spots. In Tyrus’ peripheral vision, he noticed the crowd growing by the minute, almost numbering in the twenties. Did they really come by just to see two kids duking it out, or were they expecting something interesting to happen?

At this point, I just want to shrink and crawl away. Why did we have to find here of all places? I should’ve asked to fight somewhere else!

“Don’t mind the rabble here,” Igneal said with a chuckle. “A gathering usually occurs when I'm out and about. The attention doesn't bother me; it's a natural response for the weak to look up to the strong.”

Tyrus inwardly gagged. “Do you hear yourself? I don’t think it’s right to think that way when you just started out as a sorcerer. You’re weak, just like me.”

Temporarily, Igneal’s face morphed into a scowl before transitioning back to a smirk. “Taunting already, are we? Unfortunately for you, it won’t work.” He assumed a stance, both hands on the handle and one leg ahead of the other. "Do not worry, commoner, I'll go easy on you. You can go all out to your heart's content. Show me the reason behind father's interest in you."

Silently, Tyrus shifted into his own stance. A couple of spectators snickered at the sight of him awkwardly moving his feet around. Until he felt comfortable did Tyrus stare directly at Igneal.

Sir Wayne glanced at the ready participants. “The fighters are now ready to begin the duel. I will state the rules for this fight; no cheating or underhanded tactics are allowed. Spells and magic are permitted for use. The use of advantageous artifacts or pseudo-artifacts is prohibited. Should you be in possession of any, now is the time to extract them.”

In an effort to be efficient, Tyrus quickly complied and concealed the coat within his ring. It was unfortunate that he was unable to take advantage of it. However, the enchantment that reduced physical attacks would have created an unfair advantage. Defeating Igneal fair and square would be enough to satisfy Tyrus.

“The victor will be determined when one of the participants surrenders or concedes to the opponent. Should I judge that any of you cannot proceed, the fight will instantly end. Are there any inquiries?”

Neither Igneal nor Tyrus uttered a word, only engaging in a tense stare-down, their weapons aimed at each other. The growing crowd had nearly doubled from its previous amount. Other than the pounding of his heart filling his ears and the distant howls of the wind, the crowd’s hollering rose to a deafening noise.

Thanks to his increased hearing, Tyrus could make out conversations among the jumbled sentences. Bets favoring Igneal were rapidly placed, encouraged by those knowledgeable about the Lockhart. Those considered fools by the majority merely mocked the ones betting on Tyrus instead. Their excuse for betting on him was, ‘I like to vote for the underdogs’ or the most popular, ‘someones gotta diversify the bets’. He didn’t know whether to laugh or ridicule them.

Just as his mood turned sour from all the doubters, he caught wind of an ecstatic voice amidst the crowd. “It's not the time to be stingy with money, we have to fully commit! Grant, Reo, give me all the sil you got on hand!”

An inkling of a smile rose from his lips. Knowing that Fiona was rooting for him, even if it was through betting, was reassuring to Tyrus. She had no reservations about making as much money as she could, regardless of the situation.

Sir Wayne gave the fighters one last inspection before saying, “Let the duel begin!”