Rise of Tyrus

To suggest that there was an abundance of beasts in the Wasteful Wetlands would be a gross understatement. In every corner, whether concealed behind decaying trees, scattered wreckage, or dilapidated structures, there was the presence of at least one beast. They were either lounging around or locked in combat–Tyrus saw no middle way.

One common type of beast was the goblin. When he first began his journey as a sorcerer, they presented a somewhat intimidating challenge during their previous clash. Now, they were as easy as squishing an ant. A single strike from his newly acquired sword was sufficient to swiftly dispatch them.

Despite Tyrus’s inexperience in wielding such a weapon, it functioned no differently than a dagger. Fortunately, the blade’s edge was sharp, and penetrating through goblin flesh was easy. If he wanted to, he could sever their bodies in half if he used augmentation. Of course, Tyrus opted for the mana saving route for the most difficult events.

He also didn’t want to witness the gross display of spilled guts and organs.

When it came to the goblins' whereabouts, they could be found either wandering or setting up camps for a quick break. Some groups had created miniature campfires, igniting dried twigs and leaves to generate warmth and light. Initially perceived as dull, they proved their resourcefulness when the situation demanded it. That fact became even more vivid as he recalled the sight of them confidently wielding various tools.

Tyrus watched a group of them–six in total–lounging around as they picked their noses or slept around in their raggedy attire. By their sides were crude weapons, such as wooden clubs or even rocks to throw.

Compared to the ones he fought in Wildwood or with Blue Dawn, they were easy enough to handle. Ignoring them was an option, but he needed to sharpen his swordsmanship with some practice. Goblins, with their clumsy movements and predictable patterns, were the perfect practice targets for a rookie like him.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. Don’t know what other beasts could be prowling around, waiting for the perfect chance to strike.”

Muttering to himself, Tyrus approached the goblins. With his feet sinking slightly into the wet dirt, the goblins immediately tensed up at the sound of squelching. One by one, they grabbed their weapons and rose, snarling directly at the approaching intruder. Their numbers, or the sorry attempt at intimidation, did not faze Tyrus in the slightest as he pressed forward.

As the goblins realized he would not retreat, they charged at him, their clubs swinging wildly. While the others closed the distance, one of them stayed back, pelting him with rocks. Tyrus effortlessly dodged the long-ranged attacks and kept most of his focus on the close-ranged ones.

“Five up close and one farther back,” he muttered.

The first goblin, resembling a frog, lunged forward with a reckless swing. Reacting quickly, Tyrus smoothly sidestepped, positioning himself to thrust his sword as deeply as possible into the creature's back. Before tumbling to the ground, it let out a piercing cry that echoed through the air. A pool of blood formed as Tyrus faced the remaining beasts.

One down, five more to go.

Undeterred by their comrade’s fate, the goblins continued to push forward. Tyrus was glad that they didn’t decide to tuck tail and run. Chasing after the little critters would be a waste of energy. Fighting them in one small area was the best outcome he could wish for. He was fighting them solely for the purpose of furthering his own swordsmanship, after all. Practicing against fleeing creatures wouldn’t be all that beneficial to him. Through some form of danger and urgency, would he learn the best.

Focusing back on the battle, two of the goblins opted for a smart approach and flanked Tyrus. In tandem, they swung their clubs, aiming straight for his sides. While their plan was quite clever, their moves were glaringly predictable and slow. Tyrus was already one step ahead of them and had already backpedaled. In a sickening thud, they rammed into each other, collapsing into a squirming pile of flesh and snarls. With a few stabs to their heads, they instantly ceased moving.

Now that there were only three of them left, the goblin’s situation finally dawned on them. The beasts glanced at each other indecisively, their urine-colored eyes that held hostility and wrath transformed to that of fear and hesitation. Tyrus didn’t let that indecisiveness go and charged forward.

He swung as best as he could at the nearest one, hoping to catch it off-guard. However, when he shifted his foot at the same time he attacked, he felt his foot sink deeper than usual. The sudden change momentarily shocked Tyrus, and what should’ve been a strike to the neck instead grazed its belly. What made matters worse was that the blade cut through the wet soil like butter.

“Uh-oh. That’s not good.”

Before Tyrus could even pull the sword out, he noticed a small projectile hurtling toward him. He released his weapon and ducked as low as he could, watching a rock sail over his head. The goblin that he had just grazed was already mid-swing, aiming for a blow against his head. Even without his sword, he still had strategies to combat his enemies.

Infusing some mana into his arm, he stopped the attack dead in its tracks. Confusion washed over the goblin as cold steel pierced its eye socket, ending its life in an instant. Retracting the dagger with one pull, Tyrus turned his attention to the others, who looked on in horror. He charged forward, stabbed a nearby goblin in its skull, and pulled the weapon right out again. Blood spurt forth as it slowly lurched to the side.

The final one realized the situation it had gotten itself into and whipped around. Making a sharp cry, the creature dashed as fast as it could on its little legs. However, to its dismay, its foe had already caught up with a simple push of the leg. Tyrus appeared from its side, straight-faced, as he stabbed it in the heart. A wail escaped from its mouth as it toppled face-first into the ground.

Tyrus bent down and wiped the blade on the rags. “Good thing I listened to Ivy and bought a secondary weapon. Handling them with mana would be easy, but what I need to work on right now is wielding the sword.”

He glanced back at the sword still stuck in the ground and sighed. Thanks to the unsteadiness of the terrain, fighting against foes was more difficult than ever. Because he hadn't yet mastered his movement and timing, he was at a major disadvantage. Though inexperienced, Tyrus was aware of his error in that particular situation.

Putting too much pressure on his foot led him to be stuck. He also over-committed in his swing, causing the sword to drive right into the dirt. What he needed to be careful of was his footwork and to find the right balance for the amount of power he would use. So many things to note, yet such little time to correct them. Swords were cool and all, but he still found magic to be the best and easiest experience.

Tyrus snapped out of his melancholy and stashed the dagger, reaching for the sword. With one effortless pull, the blade came undone. The tip was caked in dirt, yet there were no visible deformities on the blade. He blew a sigh of relief as he cleaned it to its previous state.

“I think I’m about done over here,” he muttered. “As I thought, fighting beasts is what I prefer. It’s like hunting animals for food…except for the food part. I have way more experience in these types of things than looking for herbs and all that boring stuff. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m thankful that Selena chose this.”

Although there were some positives, the negatives held a slight advantage. Tyrus was used to the cold and the heat, but the Wasteful Wetlands atmosphere was on a whole different level. Even with winter approaching, the air was humid and stinky. The fog clung to him like a baby nestled close to their mother. Worst of all were the blood flies that insisted on sucking him dry while he sweats up a storm!

So terrain sucked, the air was sticky in a bad way, there was a terrible insect infestation, and a slew of other problems that would take too long to mention. If someone wasn’t careful in the Wasteful Wetlands, they would be done in by a whole plethora of other problems not related to beasts. But if he were to ignore those things and look on the bright side, he would use the exam as a way to train, much like he had done in Wildwood.

Not only would he better his magic and swordsmanship, but learning about the different flora and fauna in the stinky environment would further his knowledge. Since him becoming an explorer was set in stone, in the future there might be a time when he would return for a contract.

Knowing what to expect on his potential return would make his life much easier. Arriving at Salithia, a somewhat known landmark, would do wonders. Nevertheless, as much as he would desire to be in a place that offered some sort of shelter, he would be deceiving himself if he claimed to be aware of his location. At the moment, he was wandering the place, only traveling in one direction, toward Valier Forest. Well, at least he thought he was heading for Valier Forest.

Heading west should’ve done the trick, or so he assumed until he realized the way westward was guarded by a zone of beast-infested waters. Worst of all were the many reptilian eyes poking out of the surface once he threw a rock. After seeing such a terrifying sight, he spun on his heels and pretended he had never seen such a thing.

“If I had slipped in, my leg would’ve been chopped off in a matter of seconds,” Tyrus said while shivering. “Valier Forest and Wildwood look like a play area compared to here. You really need to be always aware of your surroundings. Now I know why those people left without a second thought.”

After checking everything was in order, Tyrus looked around. A chorus of croaks, buzzing, and distant squawks tore through the dreary air. Squinting through the fog, it was hard to pinpoint what lingered in the distance. Though hard, Tyrus could make out the outline of thick trees almost as tall as a clock tower. This time, they were much more lively compared to their barren brothers. Insects and rodents were seen frolicking about, moving with incredible speed.

Tyrus licked his lips at the sight. “I wonder what these creatures taste like. Will the flavor differ from the beasts in Wildwood or Valier Forest? Would love to hunt one of them and roast them, but I shouldn’t eat them now. And besides, fighting while heavy sucks. It’ll just slow me down. Maybe I should hunt a few and save them for later…”

Deep in contemplation about his next meal, Tyrus hungrily eyed the prey as he stood there. Yet in the vast expanse of sounds and smells that mingled like a renowned chef’s cauldron, a peculiar sound from the thick trees emitted a striking sound. One that caught his ears was a movement followed by squelching, yet occasionally he would hear plopping like raindrops tumbling from the sky.

Alerted by the noise, Tyrus raised his sword in the noise’s direction. “More goblins? Looks like the ones I defeated weren’t alone. Hopefully it isn’t an entire army.”

His hopeful daydreams quickly shattered as a humanoid figure materialized in the distance. It lacked the stature of the kid-sized goblins, instead towering a head and a half over Tyrus while possessing a slender build.

The mysterious figure walked with a hunched posture, and from behind them was something thick and long lashing about. In his attempt to identify the puzzle before him, Tyrus took a deep breath and was met with the fragrance of damp soil and a pond.

His skepticism was quickly dispelled as the deep, ominous rumble resonated from the approaching figure. Just as the mysterious figure was on the cusp of revealing themselves, they made a surprising maneuver. With a swift motion, they produced a lengthy object from their backside, the nature of which remained hidden. In a heartbeat, they burst into a sprint, their growls transforming into warlike, menacing hisses.

Tyrus almost dropped his sword from its hasty action. He repositioned himself and patiently awaited the emergence of his new foe from the haze, bracing himself for what was about to unfold.

This one would pose to be far more difficult than a mere goblin.